Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 98 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

‘a “FF « a = = * a 3. “~ drew back to repeat his blow. eee mee C—O ee See -_- - - ae _ sor wee OF —-- = -- wood l’orest were notoriously full of outlaws, poachers and others. Therefore, our forest wandercr advanced to meet the stranger, certain in his heart that it would end ina fight between eer. ihe new-comer wasa tall young fellow in red clothes, with a lithe, active frame, dark-brown hair flowing in curls over his shoulders, bold prown eyes, and a saucy turned-up nose, with an expression of face that was defiant to the last deeree, as he looked at him of the green coat. “‘Tiev, gay fellow, with the‘velvet jerkin,” hees'c.ashe approached, ‘Thou look’sta prop- er man to rove the greenwood, forsooth. Some of these Norman popinjays, I warrant. Canst shoot, gay fellow?’ “Ay, that can [, on occasion,” replied the other, as he scanned the form of the stranger oritically, noting that he was armed like himself, and bore a similar staff. “Til wager a rose noble I can beat thee,” said the new-comer, in the same aggressive tone, which seemed to suit his whole appearance, and the scarlet jerkin and hose which he wore— lighting colors from top to toe, and fighting manners to match. _ As he spoke, he leaned his staff against a tree. took his bow from his back, and began to bend and string it. The young man halted, and regarded his pre- parations with a smile. ‘What wouldst do?’ he asked, as the stranger drew an arrow from his quiver and began to late it on the ahs The other made no reply vxeyond raising the bow, and another moment would have seen the arrow piercing the breast of the man in green, when the latter, with a sudden rapid blow of his quarter-staff, struck the bow just above the stranger’s hand with such rorce as to knock it out of his grasp and send it fiying. ‘“‘ Aha! thowrt a man of thy hands!” cried Red Jacket, with a fierce laugh, and apparently no- wise abashed. ‘‘ We’ll see what else thou-canst do with that staff of thine.” As he spoke, the young man in red, as nimble as a cat, ran to the tree where he had left his uarter-staff, picked it up, and came leaping down on the other, brandishing the huge weapon m circles on either side of his head, and shout- ing: ‘*Have at thee, gay fellow! Now we'll see who is best man.” In another moment, these two young men, who had never seen each other before, and had no earthly cause for enmity, were engaged in a fierce conflict with their great two-handed staves, striking rapid blows with force enough to fell an ox, had they taken effect. But in the play of quarter-staff for every blow there is a good guard. The manin green proved himself at once to be a perfect master of the quarter-staff, and his opponent was noway be- hind him. At first they both employed the same guard, holding one hand in the middle of She staff and shifting the other in and out, deal- ing blows pica with each end of the weapon. They would advance and retreat, leap hack and to either side, always holding the sta 50 as to cover the body, and seeking for an in- stant of time or an inch of space unguarded. The rattle of the continual blows sounded like the clatter of a mill, and thus they kept up the contest for several minutes of incessant hard work, till their breath came hard and short, and the sweat poured from their faces. At last the stranger, after a close rally, in which he had displayed uncommon activity and fierceness, altered his tactics. owing up his long staff in the air till he eewipecd it with both hands by the end, he made asudd en stride forward and fetched a might blow at the head of his foe. Coming with suc a leverage, its force was tremendous, and al- though Green Jacket warded it off, he did so imperfectly. The heavy staff, oe down, struck off his gay cap and grazed his skull, cut- ting a gash from which the red blood flowed out all over the golden hair. “Aha, gay fellow! hast felt the touch of Scathelock?’ cried the other, exultingly, as he ‘““Now, by’r Lady, thou shalt have more ere thou’st done.” ut he had better have left his boast unsaid. itherto Green Jacket had been fighting si- lently and coolly, with a smile on his face, not attacking with any vehemence, but defending himself stoutly. However, as soon as the first stunning sensation of his enemy’s blow was over his color returned, and a fierce look over- spread his face as he ground his teeth. ‘‘Now by the head of Harold,” he cried angrily, ‘‘I’ll show thee that thou hast to deal ‘th thy master, malapert knave.” TTT, TT jms Robin Hood. As he spoke, he ran at the other, and seizing his staff by the end plied him with blow on blow, which it took all the dexterity of the stranger to avoid. Then, closing in on him to half-staff distance, he suddenly lifted his wea- pon as if to strike, but instead of that thrust ve- hemently with both hands, driving the end of the heavy staff into the breast of his enemy, ee ee him staggering back, gasping for reath. “How now, malapert knave?’ he cried, swinging up his staff with both hands once more, Then, with a great effort, he dealt Master Scathelock such a knock on the side of the head that the aggressive young man fell at length on the grass and rolled over till he lay still and senseless. Then the golden-haired youth looked down at his late opponent, somewhat regretfully. **’Fore heaven, ’tis a proper fellow and a bold one,” he said, musingly. ‘‘I count myself no craven, but he hath given me enough work. Marry, had I a hundred such we could hold these old woods against all the power of this prince and his covetous barons, who rob us English to give to their Norman Frenchmen.” Without more ado the youth cast aside his staff, knelt down by the senseless one and busied himself in reviving him. He had not long to work. Master Scathelock, as he had called himself, was evidently of a hardy stock, and minded not a cracked crown, more or less; for he presently opened his eyes, put his hand to his head and sat up, looking dazed and stupid. His late foe rose, resumed his staff, and watched the other in silence. Presently the stranger looked at him and smiled ruefully. “Gay fellow, thou art best man,” he ob- served. ‘“‘I came to shear and go back shorn. Thou play’st a pretty staff.” ‘What brought thee hither?’ asked the other, suddenly. ‘‘ What is thy name? Thy face seemeth as I knew it or some like it.” ‘Marry, sir, my name is Will Scarlet, that men call Scathelock for the same crack on the nob I gave thee,” said the man in red, rubbing his head softly. ‘‘ But, fore heaven, an I can- not guard my own head better I were best give up the name.” ‘But what brought thee hither, Master Scathelock?’ again asked the youth in green vel- vet. ‘*Marry, sir, to see Robin Fitzooth, Earl of Huntington, that they call the poor man’s friend,” returned Scathelock, still rubbing his head softly. ‘‘ They tell me he is a proper man of his hands, and I would try a bout ‘with him at uarter-staff. But ‘tis all over now I have met thee. Iseek no Karl of Huntington, for I have my bellyful.” ‘And ’tis Fitzooth has given it thee,” said the other with a smile. ‘‘Thou needst go no fur- ther, for lam Robin, Earl of Huntington.” Will Scarlet rose to his feet and made a low bow to his late conqueror. ‘‘T am thy servant then, my lord,” he said; “for I swore ere I left home that if thou wert more than my match, I would be thy man for- ever. ‘‘ Be it so,” replied the earl, with his cordial smile. ‘Tis an old English custom to fight till we have our bellyful, and then to love one an- other all the better for the good fight.” ‘* And if my lord take it not amiss,” said Will Scarlet, respectfully, ‘“I would give him a piece of counsel. There are men lying in wait for thee on the road hard py for I met them and heard them talk on’t. y lord will do well to from Nottingham to-day.” . + ay, not so athelock,” replied Hunting- ton with a proud smile. ‘I never flinched from face of man yet, nor will I now. What harm can men do me?’ “Much,” said Will Scarlet, impressively, “when the prince hath passed a decree of out- lawry on thy head.” The young earl started back in dismay, bold as he was, for there was something in those times in the penalties of outlawry enough to appall the bravest. 0 be an outlaw was to have the hand of every man, woman and child against one, to be a hunted fugitive whom it were meritorious for any to kill while escaping, and whose only haven of refuge was the Fleet Prison for Debt- ors. Tobe an outlaw, was to suffer any and every penalty, including death, for the one crime of owing money and being unable to pay t. ‘Why outlawed?—at whose suit?—for what?” he asked incredulously. Nay, that I know not,” said Will Scarlet; kee ee me em et ’ ‘‘but this I know, that a party of men are waiting at the edge of the forest, and that when | asked them whom they waited for, they said for the outlawed Earl of Huntington, to take him, dead or alive.” The young earl stood for a moment buried in thought, and then turned to Scathelock. ‘Good fellow,” he said, ‘‘ we have fought to- gether, and thou art the best man of thy hands ever met. Wilt go with me and stand by me in this fight?" ‘* Fight!” echoed Scathelock, in a tone of amazement. ‘‘ Why, my lord, they be ‘fifteen men In steel caps, and carrying swords and staves.” ‘So much the worse for them,” answered the earl, sternly; and a new look came on his face such as had never appeared there before. “If they will outlaw me, I will see that they have some reason for’t. Wilt come?’ Scathelock stared a moment longer, and then: replied, briskly and cheerfully: ‘* Nay, an ye will throw away your life, my lord, ye shall never say Will Scathelock turned his back at the pinch of time. Have with ye, my lord.” ‘he earl said not a word, but turned away. The clotted blood was still in the midst of his bright yellow curls, and had nearly dried there, while a dark frown was on his brow. He look- ed like a sad and desperate man, very different from the “gay fellow” with whom Scathelock had picked a quarrel. CHAPTER II. THE ABBOT. In a lofty room in Fountain Abbey sat Gil- bert, the Abbot, with his sandaled feet crossed on a carved stool, while he lay back in his huge oaken chair and listened to the speech of a man dressed in black, who frequently bowed low be- fore him. The abbot was stout and comfortable in ap. pearance, with a round, rosy face, closely shav- en, and a scrupulously correct tonsure. His dress was that of his order of begging friars, and the cord around his waist was of the proper thickness for penitential scourgings. Nevertheless, the appearance cf the room in which he sat showad that he was no austere monk, It was furnished with a luxury very rare in those early days, and boasted of five or six mighty arm-chairs of carved oak, fanciful. but as strong ~s could be made, with a broad, roomy settee in front of the huge fireplace. Although it was Mayday, the ‘thick stone walls of Fountain Abbey, oozing with the damps of more than raps winters, made the atmos- »here within so chilly that a fire became exceed- ingly grateful to the abbot’s bare feet, only pro- tected by the thongs of his sandals. The blaze of three or four huge logs lighted up the carved oaken beams, of the ceiling, and stained on a magnificent silver crucifix and the candlesticks of a little shrine at one side of the room. The stone flags of the floor were covered in more than one place by rich-hued Pérsian or Turkish rugs, the spoils of some crusading rela- tives of the abbot, and a fretted glass flagon of wine on the table beside a great silver cup, showed that the gentleman had friends in Venice, the only place where such glass was then made. Just at the moment when we see him, the Ab- bot of Fountain Abbey was not occupied with wine, but with a big parchment, which lay across his knees, as he sat before the fire. This docu- ment the man in black was op imning. to him, to all appearance. It was covered with figures and calculations, and seemed to be very inte- resting to both, from the expression of their faces. “And it seemeth, Master Roger Warman,” said the abbot, slowly, ** that the Earl of Hunt- ington oweth to me, his uncle, a thousand marks, all spent in riotous living, and secured on his estates,” | “ Fair sir, it is true,” replied Roger Warman with a bow. ‘The suits and executions are all ready, and if your lordship wishes, the earl can be driven from his estates to-morrow, and taken to prison tiil he pay all that he oweth.” ‘That may not be,” said the abbot, thought- fully. “They say the people love bim here- abouts, and would kill the king’s officers, did they come to take him.” “Then should he be outlawed,” said Roger Warman. “It will be easy enough, for Prince John and Queen Eleanor are in these parts, and we can get the decree from the Chancellor, even now, if we wish.” Abbot Gilbert turned his eyes to meet those of the steward, and smiled slightly, ‘‘Thouw’rt a keen knave, after all, Roger,” he ‘S comicboo Gor