hey had entered the house, so that Robin alone had the
care of Montfichet. With Will Stuteley's assistance they brought the old
man safely to the chamber allotted them by the fussy Sheriff. Robin was
glad when, at length, they were left to their own devices.

"'Tis a goblet of good wine that the lording requires to mend him," said
the little stroller. "I'll go and get it, Robin Fitzooth."

The wine did certainly bring back the color to the Squire's cheeks.
Robin chafed his cold hands and warmed them betwixt his own. Slowly the
fit passed away, and George Montfichet felt the life returning to him.

"'Twas an ugly touch, young Robin. These escapades are not for old
Gamewell, lad; his day has come to twilight. Soon 'twill be night for
him and time for sleep."

The Squire's voice was sad. He held Robin's hand affectionately, as the
latter continued his efforts to bring back warmth to him.

"But I will do some proper service for you, child. You shall not find me
one to lightly forget. Will you forgive me now? I will return to
Gamewell soon as I may and there rest for a few days."

"I'll take you, sir. It will be no disappointment to me. I have seen all
that I wish of Nottingham Fair."

"You shall return for the tourney; and if your father will give you
leave, young Cumberland, you shall become my Robin's esquire. No thanks;
I am glad to give you such easy happiness. Arm me to the hall, Robin; I
am myself again, and surely there is a smell of roasted meats!"

"You are a worthy leech, Will," presently whispered Robin. "The wine has
worked a marvel. Come, follow us, and forget not that I still will
wrestle with you! Ay, and show you some pretty tricks."

"Unless I have already learned them!" retorted young Stuteley, laughing.
Then, becoming serious, the little stroller suddenly bent his knee.
"I'll follow you across the earth and sea, master," he murmured,
touching Robin's hand with his lips.

He lightly sprang to his feet again, seeing that Montfichet now
impatiently awaited them. Together they made their way to the banquet
spread in the Sheriff of Nottingham's wide hall.

CHAPTER V

Squire George of Gamewell rested at his ease in the comfort of his own
domain during the next day; and, though he would have Robin go into
Nottingham, with his new esquire and Warrenton--Montfichet's own
man--young Fitzooth was more than content to stay near to his patron's
side.

There had been no difficulty in the matter o