passed the very spot where the gallows-tree is going up. 'Tis out
upon the roadway near the Sheriff's castle. One, Will Stutely, is to be
hung thereon at noon, and I could not bear the sight, so came away."

The palmer spoke in a muffled voice; and as his hood was pulled well
over his head, Stout Will could not discern what manner of man he was.
Over his shoulder he carried a long staff, with the fashion of a little
cross at one end; and he had sandaled feet like any monk. Stout Will
notice idly that the feet were very small and white, but gave no second
thought to the matter.

"Who will shrive the poor wretch, if you have come away from him?" he
asked reproachfully.

The question seemed to put a new idea into the palmer's head. He turned
so quickly that he almost dropped his hood.

"Do you think that I should undertake this holy office?"

"By Saint Peter and the Blessed Virgin, I do indeed! Else, who will
do it? The Bishop and all his whining clerks may be there, but not one
would say a prayer for his soul."

"But I am only a poor palmer," the other began hesitatingly.

"Nathless, your prayers are as good as any and better than some,"
replied Will.

"Right gladly would I go," then said the palmer; "but I fear me I cannot
get into the city. You may know that the gates are fast locked, for this
morning, to all who would come in, although they let any pass out who
will."

"Come with me," said Stout Will, "and my master will see that you pass
through the gates."

So the palmer pulled his cloak still closer about him and was brought
before Robin Hood, to whom he told all he knew of the situation. He
ended with,

"If I may make so bold, I would not try to enter the city from this
gate, as 'tis closely guarded since yesterday. But on the far side, no
attack is looked for."

"My thanks, gentle palmer," quoth Robin, "your suggestion is good, and
we will deploy to the gate upon the far side."

So the men marched silently but quickly until they were near to the
western gate. Then Arthur-a-Bland asked leave to go ahead as a scout,
and quietly made his way to a point under the tower by the gate. The
moat was dry on this side, as these were times of peace, and Arthur was
further favored by a stout ivy vine which grew out from an upper window.

Swinging himself up boldly by means of this friendly vine, he crept
through the window and in a moment more had sprung upon the warder from
behind and gripped him hard about