not,
we will find sweet faring within. What say ye, lads?"

"In sooth, good master," quoth Little John, "thy bidding and my doing
ever fit together like cakes and ale. Let us in, I say also."

Then up spake Will Scarlet: "I am ever ready to do what thou sayest,
uncle, yet I could wish that we were farther upon our way ere we rest
for the night. Nevertheless, if thou thinkest best, let us in for the
night, say I also."

So in they went and called for the best that the place afforded. Then a
right good feast was set before them, with two stout bottles of old sack
to wash it down withal. These things were served by as plump and buxom
a lass as you could find in all the land, so that Little John, who
always had an eye for a fair lass, even when meat and drink were by,
stuck his arms akimbo and fixed his eyes upon her, winking sweetly
whenever he saw her looking toward him. Then you should have seen how
the lass twittered with laughter, and how she looked at Little John out
of the corners of her eyes, a dimple coming in either cheek; for the
fellow had always a taking way with the womenfolk.

So the feast passed merrily, and never had that inn seen such lusty
feeders as these four stout fellows; but at last they were done their
eating, though it seemed as though they never would have ended, and sat
loitering over the sack. As they so sat, the landlord came in of a
sudden, and said that there was one at the door, a certain young
esquire, Richard Partington, of the Queen's household, who wished to see
the lad in blue, and speak with him, without loss of time. So Robin
arose quickly, and, bidding the landlord not to follow him, left the
others gazing at one another, and wondering what was about to happen.

When Robin came out of the inn, he found young Richard Partington
sitting upon his horse in the white moonlight, awaiting his coming.

"What news bearest thou, Sir Page?" said Robin. "I trust that it is not
of an ill nature."

"Why," said young Partington, "for the matter of that, it is ill enow.
The King hath been bitterly stirred up against thee by that vile Bishop
of Hereford. He sent to arrest thee at the archery butts at Finsbury
Fields, but not finding thee there, he hath gathered together his armed
men, fiftyscore and more, and is sending them in haste along this very
road to Sherwood, either to take thee on the way or to prevent thy
getting back to the woodlands again. He hath given the Bishop of
Hereford