have his can;
Here's a health unto the King!"

Friar Tuck had nursed Little John's wounded knee so skilfully that it
was now healed. In sooth, the last part of the nursing depended more
upon strength than skill; for it consisted chiefly of holding down the
patient, by main force, to his cot. Little John had felt so well that he
had insisted upon getting up before the wound was healed; and he would
have done so, if the friar had not piled some holy books upon his legs
and sat upon his stomach.

Under this vigorous treatment Little John was constrained to lie quiet
until the friar gave him leave to get up. At last he had this leave, and
he and the friar went forth to join the rest of the band, who were right
glad to see them, you may be sure. They sat around a big fire, for 'twas
a chilly evening, and they feasted and made merry, in great content.

A cold rain set in, later, but the friar wended his way back, nathless,
to his little hermitage. There he made himself a cheerful blaze, and
changed his dripping robe, and had sat himself down, with a sigh of
satisfaction, before a tankard of hot mulled wine and a pasty, when
suddenly a voice was heard on the outside, demanding admission. His
kennel of dogs set up furious uproar, on the instant, by way of proving
the fact of a stranger's presence.

"Now by Saint Peter!" growled the friar, "who comes here at this
unseemly hour? Does he take this for a hostelry? Move on, friend, else
my mulled wine will get cold!"

So saying he put the tankard to his lips, when a thundering rap sounded
upon the door-panel, making it to quiver, and causing Tuck almost to
drop his tankard; while an angry voice shouted, "Ho! Within there! Open,
I say!"

"Go your way in peace!" roared back the friar; "I can do nothing for
you. 'Tis but a few miles to Gamewell, if you know the road."

"But I do not know the road, and if I did I would not budge another
foot. 'Tis wet without and dry within. So open, without further parley!"

"A murrain seize you for disturbing a holy man in his prayers!" muttered
Tuck savagely. Nathless, he was fain to unbar the door in order to
keep it from being battered down. Then lighting a torch at his fire and
whistling for one of his dogs, he strode forth to see who his visitor
might be.

The figure of a tall knight clad in a black coat of mail, with plumed
helmet, stood before him. By his side stood his horse, also caparisoned
in rich armor.

"Have you no supp