m of what he was at pains to rob for himself!" Then I thrust
the well-filled napkin into her clutching fingers and hasted away, but
her raptured cry followed me as I went.

I trudged on slow and heavy through the mud, being very weary for lack
of sleep and mightily down cast, heedless of gladsome morn and the
fair, fresh world about me, conscious but of my own most miserable
estate; insomuch that I presently sank down on the grass by the road
and, with heavy head bowed between my hands, gave myself up to black
despond.

But now as I sat thus, very sick and sorrowful, I heard a sound of
wheels and plodding hoofs drawing slowly near, and lifting my head at
last, espied a great wain piled high with fragrant hay whereon the
driver sprawled asleep, a great fat fellow whose snores rose above the
jingle of harness and creak of wheels. Now hearkening to his snoring,
beholding him so gross and full-fed (and I starving!!) my sadness gave
place to sudden, hot anger and, as the waggon lumbered by, I swung
myself up behind, and clambering over the hay, raised my staff, minded
to drub the fellow into wakefulness; but even then I stayed the blow,
for I spied a wallet that hung to the driving-seat, a large wallet of
plump and inviting aspect. Reaching it down I opened it forthwith and
found therein a new-baked loaf, a roast capon delicately browned and a
jar of small beer. And now, couched luxuriously among the hay, I fell
to work (tooth and nail) and though I ate in voracious haste, never
before or since have I tasted aught so delicate and savoury as that
stolen fowl. I was yet busied with what remained of the carcass when
the fat fellow choked in his snoring, sighed, grunted, propped himself
on lazy elbow and, catching sight of me, fell a-gaping. So whiles he
watched open-mouthed, I finished what remained of the capon and tossed
the bones over the hedge.

"Ecod!" quoth he faintly. "O, ecod--my dinner!" As for me, having my
mouth full, I spake not. "Ad's bobs!" says he, "A rascally, robbing
thief of the roads!"

"Even so!" I nodded and took a long draught of his beer.

"A-eating and a-drinking of a honest man's dinner, by the Lord!" says
he, clenching fat fists. "O ecod--a hell-fire rogue--a very lousy,
scurvy dog as shall be carted and whipped and set in Sir Richard's new
pillory!" At this, being engaged with the bread, I reached out my foot
and kicked him (very featly) in the belly; whereat he gasped and
growing tho