th diminishing strength, but the thought of safety
outside the walls gave them force to make one last stand. With backs
to the gate and faces to the foe, Adam and Clym and William made a
valiant onslaught on the townsfolk, who fled in terror, leaving a
breathing-space in which Adam Bell turned the key, flung open the
great ponderous gate, and flung it to again, when the three had passed
through.

[Illustration: The fight at the gate]

Adam and the Keys

As Adam locked the door they could hear inside the town the
hurrying footsteps of the rallying citizens, whose furious attack on
the great iron-studded door came too late. The door was locked, and
the three friends stood in safety outside, with their pleasant forest
home within easy reach. The change of feeling was so intense that Adam
Bell, always the man to seize the humorous point of a situation,
laughed lightly. He called through the barred wicket:

"Here are your keys. I resign my office as warder--one half-day's work
is enough for me; and as I have resigned, and the former gate-ward is
somewhat damaged and has disappeared, I advise you to find a new one.
Take your keys, and much good may you get from them. Next time I
advise you not to stop an honest yeoman from coming to see his own
wife and have a chat with her."

Thereupon he flung the keys over the gate on the heads of the crowd,
and the three brethren slipped away into the forest to their own
haunts, where they found fresh bows and arrows in such abundance that
they longed to be back in fair Carlisle with their foes before them.

William of Cloudeslee and his Wife Meet

While they were yet discussing all the details of the rescue they
heard a woman's pitiful lament and the crying of little children.
"Hark!" said Cloudeslee, and they all heard in the silence the words
she said. It was William's wife, and she cried: "Alas! why did I not
die before this day? Woe is me that my dear husband is slain! He is
dead, and I have no friend to lament with me. If only I could see his
comrades and tell what has befallen him my heart would be eased of
some of its pain."

William, as he listened, was deeply touched, and walked gently to
fair Alice, as she hid her face in her hands and wept. "Welcome, wife,
to the greenwood!" quoth he. "By heaven, I never thought to see you
again when I lay in bonds last night." Dame Alice sprang up most
joyously. "Oh, all is well with me now you are here; I have no care or
woe."