ere given
with the flat of swords, while through the midst of the crowd Sir
Richard of the Lea came spurring on his white horse. Then the crowd,
seeing the steel-clad knight and the armed men, melted away like snow on
the warm hearth, leaving the young man all bloody and dusty upon the
ground.

Finding himself free, the youth arose and, wiping the blood from his
face, looked up. Quoth he, "Sir Richard of the Lea, mayhap thou hast
saved my life this day."

"Who art thou that knowest Sir Richard of the Lea so well?" quoth the
Knight. "Methinks I have seen thy face before, young man."

"Yea, thou hast," said the youth, "for men call me David of Doncaster."

"Ha!" said Sir Richard, "I wonder that I knew thee not, David; but thy
beard hath grown longer, and thou thyself art more set in manhood since
this day twelvemonth. Come hither into the tent, David, and wash the
blood from thy face. And thou, Ralph, bring him straightway a clean
jerkin. Now I am sorry for thee, yet I am right glad that I have had a
chance to pay a part of my debt of kindness to thy good master Robin
Hood, for it might have gone ill with thee had I not come, young man."

So saying, the Knight led David into the tent, and there the youth
washed the blood from his face and put on the clean jerkin.

In the meantime a whisper had gone around from those that stood nearest
that this was none other than the great David of Doncaster, the best
wrestler in all the mid-country, who only last spring had cast stout
Adam o' Lincoln in the ring at Selby, in Yorkshire, and now held the
mid-country champion belt, Thus it happened that when young David came
forth from the tent along with Sir Richard, the blood all washed from
his face, and his soiled jerkin changed for a clean one, no sounds of
anger were heard, but all pressed forward to see the young man, feeling
proud that one of the great wrestlers of England should have entered the
ring at Denby fair. For thus fickle is a mass of men.

Then Sir Richard called aloud, "Friends, this is David of Doncaster; so
think it no shame that your Denby man was cast by such a wrestler. He
beareth you no ill will for what hath passed, but let it be a warning to
you how ye treat strangers henceforth. Had ye slain him it would have
been an ill day for you, for Robin Hood would have harried your town as
the kestrel harries the dovecote. I have bought the pipe of wine from
him, and now I give it freely to you to drink as ye