n Hood's ears that my lord Bishop of Hereford would
be riding that way betimes on that morning. 'Twas Arthur-a-Bland, the
knight's quondam esquire, who brought the tidings, and Robin's face
brightened as he heard it.

"Now, by our Lady!" quoth he, "I have long desired to entertain my lord
in the greenwood, and this is too fair a chance to let slip. Come, my
men, kill me a venison; kill me a good fat deer. The Bishop of Hereford
is to dine with me today, and he shall pay well for his cheer."

"Shall we dress it here, as usual?" asked Much, the miller's son.

"Nay, we play a droll game on the churchman. We will dress it by the
highway side, and watch for the Bishop narrowly, lest he should ride
some other way."

So Robin gave his orders, and the main body of his men dispersed to
different parts of the forest, under Will Stutely and Little John,
to watch other roads; while Robin Hood himself took six of his men,
including Will Scarlet, and Much, and posted himself in full view of the
main road. This little company appeared funny enough, I assure you, for
they had disguised themselves as shepherds. Robin had an old wool cap,
with a tail to it, hanging over his ear, and a shock of hair stood
straight up through a hole in the top. Besides there was so much dirt on
his face that you would never have known him. An old tattered cloak over
his hunter's garb completed his make-up. The others were no less ragged
and unkempt, even the foppish Will Scarlet being so badly run down at
the heel that the court ladies would hardly have had speech with him.

They quickly provided themselves with a deer and made great preparations
to cook it over a small fire, when a little dust was seen blowing along
the highway, and out of it came the portly Bishop cantering along with
ten men-at-arms at his heels. As soon as he saw the fancied shepherds he
spurred up his horse, and came straight toward them.

"Who are ye, fellows, who make so free with the King's deer?" he asked
sharply.

"We are shepherds," answered Robin Hood, pulling at his forelock
awkwardly.

"Heaven have mercy! Ye seem a sorry lot of shepherds. But who gave you
leave to cease eating mutton?"

"'Tis one of our feast days, lording, and we were disposed to be merry
this day, and make free with a deer, out here where they are so many."

"By me faith, the King shall hear of this. Who killed yon beast?"

"Give me first your name, excellence, so that I may speak where 'tis
fi