Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 98 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

-_— - » aed 12 NSS The sheriff had mounted his horse as the pro- cession left the prison gates, and headed a troop of men-at-arms toclear the way. Assoonas he saw that the bishop had come to the execution, he felt much more secure against rescue, for he knew the people would never dare to interfere with the prisoners, as long as they were under the power of the church. He gave the signal himself for his guards to encircle the monks, and henceforth devoted himself solely to the task of overawing the outsiders. When the head of the column reached the market-place they found it full of people, while every window was crowded with faces, and even the roof of the church was covered with rs. The sheriff rode into the midst of the erowd with his horsemen and sternly cleared a ge with leveled lances, the troopers shout- ig and spurring their steeds with all the vigor of new jacks-in-office. Indeed, they seemed to take a pleasure in bullying the people, and many were the black looks and muttered curses they encountered as the populace sullenly re- treated from the neighborhood or the. scaf- fold. ‘* By our Lady, ye need not trample women and children to death,” cried a sturdy butcher, as he caught a child almost from under the horse-hoofs of the sheriff. ‘‘ A week agoa sorry clerk, and now a begyar on horseback.”’ Warman beckoned to his men to follow, and the stout butcher and his friends were driven back, not without some resistance and a stone thrown, after which the procession filed into the open space round the scaffold, and the doomed men ascended the platform, still inirons. Sir Roger Warman looked round for the bishop, and beheld that ecclesiastic on the seaf- fold itself, beside the hangman, talking to the prisoners, who seemed to be listening with great respect to his exhortations, Then the trumpet sounded a long blast and a great stillness fell on the square. It was expected that the culprits would make their last aire and people craned their necks to hear. The sheriff walked his horse round the lines and faced all k.s guards outward, to check any forward movement, leaving the scaffold and vicinity entirely occu- ied by the brown robes of the monks, who stood hind the soldiers. Amid a dead silence Scathelock advanced to the front of the scaffold and spoke aloud: ‘‘Wriends all, I have little to say. You see here two men, condemned to die for shooting the deer that Norman lords hunt for pleasure. Do you call that justice? I say that God made the deer for Saxon as well as Norman, and God save King Richard! If he were here, this would not be.” Having said this, he waved his hand and re- oe while a great groan rose up from the populace, and the sheriff’s guards grasped their weapons tighter, as if in expectation of an im- ediate rush. As for Sir Roger Warman, he called out: “Let the other man be quick; then do your duty, hangman.” Another groan burst from the people, which was instantly hushed as the gigantic form of little John advanced to the front of the scaffold. The tall yeoman lifted himself to his full hight and shouted aloud in his stentorian tones: ‘‘ What my comrade says I say! God save King Richard, and were he here, this would not be. Ho! Roger Warman, and all you people! You think you came here to see an execution. Do you know what you will see in a minute more? Do you know?” ‘No, No!” ‘ What is it?’ ‘Tell us!” bel- lowed the crowd. ‘A RescuL!!!” thundered the yeoman, sud- denly flinging both of his manacles far into the crowd, an example instantly imitated by Scathelock. ‘Rosin Hoop TO THE RESCUE!!!’ Instantly a magical transformation took place on and round the seaffold, as the brown robes of the monks dropped. Out leaped the merry men ' of Sherwood, in their forest green, armed with ‘sword and buckler, hitherto hidden beneath their robes, and commenced a furious attack on the guards of Sheriff Warman. An inde- scribable scene of confusion ensued, amid which Robin Hood himself threw off the robes of Bishop Gilbert, shouting: ‘Robin Hood to the rescue! Down with the Norman traitors! Fight for King Richard and Old England!” CHAPTER XIV. THE RESCUE. a Tue sudden and unexpected attack of Robin Hood’s men on the rear of the sheriff’s guards ? and the shouts of rescue that ensued, made short ——- - - — — — compressing his — se. —Sa ee Robin Flood. ee ee ——$ —_— work of Warman’s posse. Cut down and stab- bed by the dozen, before they knew what was the matter, the unhappy soldiers broke in dis- order, throwing away their weapons and calling for quarter, as they fled into the crowd and trie to hide themselves. As for the sheriff and his horsemen, no sooner did the people see the triumph of the foresters, with whom all sympathized more or less, than they set on the sheriff and his troop as they were facing round to receive Robin Hood’s men, and literally tore them from their horses, ere they had time to resist. Warman was thrown down, and only the excellence of his armor saved him from being trampled to death as the crowd surged to and fro above him. Then, as the outlaws, formed in a compact body, came running into the crowd, the people rave way right and left, with loud cheers, crying ‘Robin Hood forever! The people’s friend!” Right across the market-place they went at a run, and there they found, close to the church- door, a country ox-cart, covered with a tilt, the driver one of Robin's men, his green dress hid- den by a smock frock. In a trice the tilt was torn off, and the outlawssnatched up their bows, which had thus secretly been conveyed into the midst of the town, together with their long quarter-staves. As for their quivers and other weapons, the ample folds of the monks’ gowns had hidden them from nublic gaze, therefore the foresters were once more fully armed, In less time than it takes to tell, bows and staves were cauglit up, and Robin Hood recom- menced his retreat out of the town gate, and so into the open country, unmolested save by the cheering and shouting crowd that followed be- hind them till they came to the fields. ‘And now, merry men, once more to the greenwood, the wild, free greenwood, where we are no slaves!” eried their leader, as they struck into the woods, ‘Scatter all, and the meeting- place will be in Barnesdale, while this hue and cry is out,” At the word, the outlaws scattered to each side, as they plunged deeper into the forest. An hour later no one could have found by the tracks that a body of more than a hundred men had passed that way at sunset. The coming shades of night had been taken into Robin Hood’s cal- culation, and he knew that hefore morning he and all his men would be far beyond pursuit, Meanwhile, where was Prince John, and where was the Bishop of Hereford, whose character had been so cleverly assumed by his nephew? As for the prince, he was already on his WAX to London, iopaucinly disgusted with his ad- ventures in the midlands, and determining to leave his old-time rival to the tender mercies of Roger Warman, satisfied that if the new sheriif of Nottingham could not take the outlaw, no one else could, and not caring to expose his Own royal person to further humiliations at the hands of the foresters. But the poor Bishop of Hereford was not so lucky. To find him we must go to Fountain EAT s at whose wicket Allan-a-dale had knock- 1 edso humbly that morning about sunrise. Poor brother Ignatius, the porter, was more than half asleep when he came to the gate, and threw it wide open, drowsily remarking: Oh, come in, Hodge Smith, come in. The keys are on the buttery table. It is the su- perior’s key that hasa broken ward. Shut the wicket after thee.” It so happened that the brothers had engaged a locksmith to come in that morning; and inno- cent Ignatius never noticed, as he stumbled off to snatch another nap, that he had let the enemy into his castle. He found it out a moment later, when the sturdy thumb of Much the Miller was ullet, while three stout yeo- men performed the operation of bucking and gagging the poor fellow in the most rapid, silent and scientific fashion. Then Robin Hood said: ‘‘The monks are locked up every night, so there is no danger there, butan the superior get to the bell we shall have trouble. Scour the convent and tie up the clapper.” It needs not be told that the order was -_promptly obeyed. The keys of the monks’ cells were found as brother Ignatius had said on the buttery table, and so far all was secure. The outlaws tried all the doors, arousing the poor monks, who imagined it was the summons tor early mass and came tumbling out of bed to the doors, to find them all still locked, The only people who got out were the new superior— naa Father Ambrose—and the Bishop of Hereford, neither of whom was locked in.for the night; but both of whom were bundled neck and heels, without any ceremony, into the | first cell that was found to yield to a key, and oe Le a Sa e —— nn — | nn —_ or er ully locked in to console each other as they might. As may be imagined, after this, the transfor- mation scene at the scaffold became compara- tively easy. The abbey wardrobe was full of extra robes and cowls, and the abbey stables contained all the ox-carts that were needed to conceal such weapons as proved too long to be hidden by the monks’ gowns. It was nearly dawn of the next day when the party that stayed by Robin Hood, consisting of ittle John, Scathelock, Maid Marian, Friar Tuck and Allan-a-dale, came to a halt at a little hut at the edge of the Lincolnshire low- lands, and Robin Hood said: ‘‘Now, Allan-a-dale, to thy work, and God speed thee. The letter to the king is here written by Maid Marian, and thy horse an trappings are within this hut. Thou shalt do what no other man has ever done, ride on the bonny bay Arab steed of Maid Marian. He will carry thy weight well and safely, and never shall he fail thee in need.” Allan-a-dale took the letter hended to him by the outlaw, and kissed his hand with deep rever- ence, ‘* My lord earl,” he said, ‘‘ never shall I forget that, but for the heart and hand of Huntington, five years ago, my father had died in the Fleet prison for debt. I willrepay that debt, or die in the attempt.” ‘Tut! tut! man,” replied Robin Hood, light- ly; ““we have no earls in the greenwood, and I had forgotten all about the little favor I did Sir William-a-dale. We are all equal here under the forest trees, and the best man is the best archer, Let us see thy little steed.” In a few minutes the bay pony that had car- ried Maid Marian so often and so gallantly was led out accoutered with its velvet caparisois and gilded stirrups and bit. In those early days side-saddles had not been invented, and ladivs still rode as they now ride in South America, so that there was no need for a change of equipage| for Allan-a-dale to go on his journey. He simply changed the green forest dress and wea- pons he had worn for a minstrel’s habit, hand- some and expensive, of velvet and silk, tool: his harp and slung it at his back, then rode off, all alone and unarmed, into the brightening dawn to the south-east, while Robin Hood and his men turned away ta tne forests. ‘*There goes as brave a heart, if not so well versed in arms, as any in our land,” observed the leader, gravely, as they watched the slow- ly-vanishing figure of the minstrel. ‘Tis a sweet youth,” said Friar Tuck, heart- ily; ‘‘and one that can charm the money out of a Jew’s pocket, if ye let him sing one of his melodies. Marry, I doubt me, he might wake a corpse to life, on a pinch.” ‘*But will he find the king?’ asked Scathe- lock, half to himself. ‘‘ That’s the ~ub for Al- lan-a-dale, Will he find him?’ ‘If the king be above-ground, I'll wager a rose noble that_he will,” koapondes Maid Ma-: rian, firmly. ‘‘ What thinks Robin Hood on the matter?’ ‘‘ Robin Hood thinks as our sweetheart thinks, that ’tis time to look about our breakfast,” an- swered the outlaw, turning away with a laugh, ‘‘Let us go and look for’t, merry men, all.” An hour later, they were sitting round a blaz- ing fire, in the heart of Barnesdale Forest, where the rest of the band had made their rendezvous, and where three fat harts were roasting whole before the blaze, while ducks and geese without number were emitting a savory odor as they turned on the spits for the delectation of the hungry foresters. There let us leave them, for a good twelve- month, CHAPTER XV. ALLAN-A-DALE, Tue spring-time buds had burst into leaf and flowers; the flowers had withered and left their fruits behind them; the green leaves had turned) crisp and brown, ere they littered the earth in the rich days of autumn; and the soft white mantie of winter’s snow had covered all with its noiseless fall, preserving the tender flower-roots for a new spring. That new spring had come once more, and the swallows were trooping northward in vast flocks, when Allan-a-daie, the English minstrel, drew rein at the foot of a steep rocky hillin the Tyrol, crowned with sav- age-looking pine-trecs, ail writhen and twisted by the winter’s storms, but clustering round the ereat tower and buttresses of a massive stone castle, that lorded over a village in the valley beneath it. { : 5 ~~ 1% i JOOKSTEOM ~ SoS Se ee com