d laugh at his fears.

"I have had the distemper, master, and cannot again be hurt. But here
she comes, by the Lord! Keep near to me, lording, and shut your eyes
tight."

Robin was too dazed to heed the old man's advice. He glared in a
fascinated way at the figure emerging from the hut.

"It is a man," cried Robin, at last, "and listen--he is calling you,
Warrenton."

The retainer uttered a little sound of astonishment and ran forward.
"Sir--sir," he cried, as if in entreaty, to the man approaching: and he
made a gesture as though to warn him.

The "Yellow Lady" appeared to be in doubt both of Robin and young
Stuteley.

"Who are these, Warrenton?" called out a low, hushed voice.

Warrenton answered not, save with his half-warning, half-commanding
sign. But as the stranger drew near, apparently come to a decision, the
Squire's man spoke.

"It is your cousin, Master Geoffrey, and his esquire. They are here from
Locksley."

"So, 'tis my kinsman, Robin, who has tried to startle me?" said the
stranger, as Robin drew near to him. "Greetings, cousin; here's my hand
to you for all that you come to supplant me. Nay! I bear no ill-will.
Gamewell has no charms in my eyes compared with those of a life of
freedom."

"Is it Geoffrey, indeed?" asked young Fitzooth, gazing with both eyes
wide. He had looked to see his cousin young as himself, and here was a
man before him, bearded and bronzed, of nigh thirty summers. He was clad
in sombre clothes, and wore upon his shoulders a great scarlet cape, cut
extravagantly in the Norman fashion. Suddenly Robin laughed, heartily
and frankly.

"Yellow, Will, _yellow_, forsooth? Are you color-blind, friend? Cousin
Geoffrey, we had believed you none other than the yellow-clad damsel who
walks here at Hallow-e'en. Forgive us the discourtesy, I pray you. Here
is my hand and good fellowship in it. I am to relinquish all right to
Gamewell ground at the end of a year an I like--such were your father's
terms. I do doubt whether I may stay so long as that."

He spoke fearlessly. The two cousins embraced each other, and for an
instant Geoffrey gave play to his better self; then, next moment,
suspicion returned upon him.

"I am but come to see you, Warrenton, on a small matter. I must have a
horse and armor and a lance, that I may ride at Nottingham in the
joustings. I shall be disguised, and will wear my visor down: a hungry
wolf prowling unrecognized about his lord's domain."

His spee