In the morning they set out for Locksley; the Squire with the leech, and
six mules bearing such delicacies as old Gamewell's generous mind could
think upon. Warrenton headed a full score of men, for fear of the
outlaws; and they took a litter with them to bring Master Fitzooth to
Gamewell.

The dame met them at the latch-gate which Robin knew so well. Her face
was deathly pale and her mouth quivered as she tried to frame a welcome
to them.

"Mother!" cried Robin, in anguished voice, running to her; and there was
no need for further speech. In that one cry and in the expression of her
mute, answering face, the truth was told and understood. No use to fight
for Broadweald now; were it his a hundred times over, Robin could never
do that with it which he in all his boyhood had planned. Hugh Fitzooth,
Ranger of the Forest of Locksley, was dead.

* * * * *

The good Clerk of Copmanhurst, who had appeared from within the cottage,
told the story of Fitzooth's death. Fitzooth had been alone when the
huge wild stag had attacked him; was near his death when discovered by
two of his men. He had regained consciousness only at the sound of his
wife's voice; had kissed her with fainting breath; and, having labored
to send Robin a message of love and pride in him, had gradually faded in
spirit until the dawn.

It was an unhappy ending to a life soured by disappointment; yet somehow
this man had managed to win a way into the hearts of many people. The
few villagers of Locksley all had their tender word or humble tribute of
affection to offer the dame and her sorrowing son; and thus much of the
edge of their grief was blunted. Until the interment the priest stayed
with them, and so did old Gamewell, who paid all the fees and expenses
inevitable in consequence of Fitzooth's decease.

Afterward, the Squire would have them go back to Gamewell with him; but
Robin had determined to ask for his father's post. This bitter time made
the lad into a man suddenly. It was the evening of the day when they had
laid Fitzooth to rest in the little churchyard of Locksley that
Montfichet returned again to talk of his plan of making Robin his heir.

The old man argued reasonably and well; and Robin listened in silence
until he was done. Then, "Very generously and indulgently have you
talked with us, sir," said Robin, "and sure thing it is that we owe you
such debt as I can never hope to pay. Yet I cannot feel that 't