e of that man," cried he,
vehemently. "He is an unworthy son of a much-tried father. Forsooth,
this has become an age of disobedience and unfilial behavior; one has
but to look round to find most sons alike. The Fifth Commandment is now
without meaning to the younger generation."

"I have no father, sir," said poor Robin, half in defense; for Gamewell
looked so fiercely at him. "Nor do I seek to keep you to your offer,"
added he, in his thoughts.

"I was not thinking so much of you, boy," replied the Squire; and again
a better expression shone briefly in his face. "Give you good night,
Robin Locksley--you know your chamber. Sleep well and we will talk
together in the morning."

* * * * *

The morning saw no easement of the Squire's attitude towards Robin; and
as soon as breakfast was ended he determined to go without wasting
breath upon the errand which had brought him.

"For sure, he is repenting of his offer," reasoned Robin. "Perchance
already his heart is moved again towards Geoffrey, and who shall be more
glad than I to find this so? I'll let the Squire think it comes from
me--as in truth it does--this whimsey to prefer the name of Fitzooth to
Montfichet!"

So bravely, as he was about to leave him, Robin spoke to the old man.

"Sir," he said, "I have it in me to speak plain words with you, and I
may."

"Have no fear, boy. I am one who loves an open mind." Montfichet spoke
with meaning.

"Well, sir, I would say with reference to that which you once did press
upon my mother and myself--that I should take your name and
half-fortune with my cousin Geoffrey--that I have thought well upon your
kind offer."

"There was to be a year go by, Master Fitzooth, ere you should give
answer."

"In a year or now, sir," said Robin, firmly, "I cannot see that I should
accept. I have no quarrel with my cousin, and I will not come between
him and your heart--which pleads against yourself on his behalf."

Montfichet broke forth then, and Robin learned suddenly what had come
between him and this strange, capricious man.

"No quarrel with Geoffrey, say you?" he shouted, bringing his fist down
with violence upon the oak table. "No, I trow you have not, Robin
Fitzooth! But I have a quarrel both with him and you. Know that I have
heard the story of your escapade with that mean son of mine, who must
come prowling like a thief in the night about the walls of Gamewell. I
know the Scarlet Knight's