Henry Gilbert - Robin Hood

by Robin Hood (Lit)

  "Whence comes he?" asked Robin, who did not recognize this boastful captain.

  "That no one knows," replied the man. "Some do say he is but a rogue himself, and that the king's justice would love to have him in irons. But he is in great favor with the sheriff just now, who takes his counsel in all he does."

  Robin was greatly grieved to hear of poor Will being captured, and his voice had a stern tone in it as he turned to those of his band about him, and said:

  "Lads, you hear the evil news. Poor Will the Bowman, good honest old Will, is taken and is like to die. What say you?"

  "He must be rescued!" came the fierce cry. "If we have to pull down Nottingham town we will save him!"

  The hard looks on the faces of the outlaws showed how resolute they were.

  "Ye say truly, lads," said Robin. "Will shall be rescued and brought safely back amongst us, or else many a mother's son of Nottingham shall be slain."

  Robin gave orders for the two townsmen to be entertained and kept in the camp until the morning, and the men willingly gave their word not to return to Nottingham. This Robin did so that no word should leak out of his attempted rescue; for he guessed that it would be a difficult task in any event to get Will Stuteley out of the hands of the sheriff and his new "ancient" or lieutenant, Captain Beat the Bush.

  Meanwhile, in the sheriff's house in Nottingham, the sheriff was deep in counsel with his thief-taker. They had tried to question Will, but had naught but defiant answers from the brave outlaw, who had told them to do their worst with him, but that they should get no secrets from him.

  "Take him away!" the sheriff had cried at last in a rage. "Prepare the gallows for him, and he shall swing at dawn tomorrow morn."

  Without a word Will heard his doom and walked with proud look to his dungeon.

  "Sir sheriff," said Captain Beat the Bush when they were alone, "I have that to propose which of a surety would enable us to learn the secret lair of the robber band of Robin Hood."

  "Say on," replied the sheriff. "I would give a hundred pounds to have that rogue and his meinie scotched or slain."

  "It is this," went on the captain, and his villainous face had a crafty look upon it. "Let this man go; he will fly like a bolt from a bow to his chief in the greenwood. Let two or three sly fellows follow him and keep him in sight until they know where the rogues lie hid. Then when we learn where is their lair, swiftly thou canst gather thy men, and led by me, we will surround them when they look not for attack and we will take them every one."

  The sheriff frowned gloomily and shook his head. "Nay," he said, "I'll not lose this one that I have. He shall swing! Once let him go, and the rogue Robin is so full of wiles and stratagems that, Master Bush, thou mightest find thyself ambushed and put to scorn."

  "Then," replied Captain Bush, "I have another plan, which will please your worship better. I have told thee how my spies have kept a watch upon the house of Silas ben Reuben, and how they saw this rogue enter there and converse some long time with the Jew. Now I doubt not that there is some evil plot between the Jew and this rogue Robin o' the Hood. Thou knowest thyself that the outlaw deals in necromancy and black magic, and I doubt not that he and that evil brood of Jews do plot to work some evil against us Christians."

  "What will ye?" demanded the sheriff in a sudden burst of rage. "Would you stir up the people to bait and spoil the Jews? Do you plot to have me thrown out of my office, fined to the half of my estate, and every burgher of this town required to pay a third of his goods? That hath been done at York and at Lincoln by the king's justice. Thou rogue!" he ended, fury in his narrow eyes, "what evil plot hast thou against me? What knowest thou of Silas ben Reuben? Art thou, belike, one of those rogues whom the sheriff and merchants of York would gladly find so as to make thy skin pay for the penalties which the king's justice hath put upon them?"

  Captain Bush was not expecting so fierce an outburst, and he looked crestfallen. Indeed, seeing the startled look in his eyes, one would have thought that the sheriff's last question had reached a surer mark than he suspected. The sheriff stalked up and down the room in his rage, and did not see the sudden fear in the other's eyes.

  "I tell thee, my brave thief-taker," he cried in'a raging scorn, "I'll have none of thy plots against the Jews. 'Tis easy enough for a nameless rogue such as thee to stir up a cry to spoil the Jews, and to lead a cut-throat mob of rascals to slay and loot and plunder. But when the king's justice comes to demand penalties it is not thy hide that smarts, nor thy cobwebby pocket that pays. Go, then, get thee from my sight, and see that the gallows is ready by dawn tomorrow, and name no more of thy rascally plots to me."

  "As your worship and lordship pleases," said the captain in a soft tone. Then with ironical respect he bowed and swept his hat almost to the floor as he retired from the chamber, leaving the sheriff to fume and fret his anger away.

  "The dolt! the sheep's-head!" said Captain Bush to himself as he stood outside and thought for a while. "When he is not so hot I will make the fool take back his words _ for he is an ass that I can fool to the top of his bent. Yet, willy-nilly, I will keep watch on the house of Silas ben Reuben. I doubt not that old Reuben lives, and that Robin is hiding him. Old Reuben knows where his kinsman, Rabbi Eliezer, hath buried his vast treasure, and I will not let that doltish sheriff keep me from trying what a little torture will do to make old Reuben give up his secret. Silas the Jew, I doubt not, will send or go to meet his father and the girl, to take them to some safe place; my men shall follow, and at a fitting spot I will fall upon them, and hale them to some secret place and work my will upon them."

  Thereupon the captain went forth into the marketplace and called to him a man who stood chewing a straw, and who looked even more villainous than himself, and said to him:

  "Go, tell Cogg the Earless to keep strict watch upon the house of Silas the Jew. Today or tomorrow I think Silas will go forth; let him be followed whithersoever he may go. If, as I think, he will go to some inn to join others of his race with horses, send word to me by one of our fellows. Silas will go to the forest I doubt not, to meet an old man and a girl. I will come with others and we must take the old man alive to some secret place."

  The man slunk off across the broad market square and disappeared in one of the narrow crooked lanes that led to the Jewry. Then Captain Bush went to the Northgate, and going forth found that the sheriff's men were busy putting up new beams on the little hill called Gallows Hill, which lay just beyond the town wall.

  "Make it strong, lads," he cried, with a laugh, "for 'tis to hang the first of that evil band of robbers. And I doubt not that 'twill not be long ere others of his friends will swing from the same beam."

  The sheriff's men said naught, but one or two winked at each other in mock of him. They liked not this upstart braggart who had suddenly been put over them, and they obeyed him unwillingly.

  Next morning the dawn broke gloomy and chill. Thick clouds rolled slowly up across the sky, the wind blew bitterly from the east, and the smell of snow was in the air. Beside the gate of the town that looked upon the gaunt gallows-tree a poor old palmer sat as if waiting till the gate was opened, so that he could enter the town. He looked toward the gate and then at the gallows, and presently tears came into his eyes.

  "Alas," he said, "that I should find my poor brother again after all these years, and only to hear that he is to be hanged within this hour."

  This was the elder brother of good Will the Bowman, who, years before, had fled from the village of Birkencar because of having slain a man who cruelly oppressed him. He had made the long and dangerous journey to Rome, there to expiate his crime by prayer and fasting and penance; and then had gone further still upon the rough and perilous road to Jerusalem, where for two years he had stayed among the pagan Mussulmans. Then he had slowly made his way back to England, craving to see his younger brother again, whom he had greatly loved. Three days before, he had gone to Birkencar, and had heard how Will had fled to the greenwood with Robin Hood.
He had come through the forest, and by asking villeins and poor men, he had learned that Robin Hood's band was wintering not far from Nottingham. Pushing on, he had reached Oilerton, and there, at a little inn, a woodman had told him, not knowing who he was, that Will Stuteley was to be hanged at dawn before the north gate of Nottingham. He had come on at once, walking through the forest by night, and had sat and dozed in the bitter wind before the door, so that he could get a sight of his brother and perhaps a word with him before he died.

  As he thus sat, a short slim dark man came out of a little clump of bushes at the foot of the hill, and approached the old palmer.

  "Tell me, good palmer," said he, "dost thou know whether Will the Bowman is to be hanged this morn?"

  "Alas and alack!" said the old palmer, and his tears ran forth afresh, "it is true as ye say, and for ever woe is me. He is my younger brother whom I have longed to see these ten years, and I come but to see him hanged."

  The little man looked keenly at the old man, as if for the moment he doubted his tale; but his grief was too real and his words rang too true to allow of doubt.

  "I have heard," went on the old palmer, "that he ran to the greenwood with young Robert of Locksley _ a brave lad, bold of speech and noble of heart when I knew him. And poor men and villeins have told me as I came through the forest that he hath not changed, but that he fled because he could not brook the oppression of proud priests and evil knights. He was ever a bold lad, and it gladdened my heart to hear their rough mouths say how he had ever befriended the poor and the oppressed. Oh, if he were here now! If he but knew the death poor Will must die, he would quickly send succor. With a few of his bold yeomen he would soon take him from those who have seized him."

  "Ay, that is true," the dark man said, "that is true. If they were near unto this place they soon would set him free. But fare thee well, thou good old man, farewell, and thanks to thee."

  So saying, the stranger, who was dressed in the rough and rusty garments of a woodman, strolled away and disappeared into the bushes again.

  No sooner had he gone than voices were heard behind the stout wooden gates, iron-plated and rivet-studded, and soon with creaking and jarring the great double doors swung open, and twelve sheriff's men with drawn swords came forth. In their midst was Will Stuteley, bound with stout cords; but his look was bold and his head was held high as he walked, fettered though he was.

  Behind walked the sheriff in his robe of office, and beside him was Captain Bush, a smile of triumph on his face. At a little distance behind them came a man with a ladder, accompanied by a small group of townspeople who followed the sheriff's men toward the gallows-tree.

  Arrived there, they placed Will Stuteley beneath the arm of the high gallows, and at the word of command the ladder was reared against the post, and a man ran up it holding a rope in his hand.

  Will Stuteley, while these preparations were being made, looked around over the bleak country. He had hoped to see the forms of the outlaws issuing from the dark wood which began on the top of the down beyond the hollow at the foot of the gallows hill; but there was no sign of life anywhere, except the figure of a poor old palmer who was running toward them. Will turned to where the sheriff stood, with Captain Bush beside him.

  "Now, seeing that I needs must die, grant me one boon," said Will; "for my noble master never yet had a man that was hanged on the gallows-tree. Give me a sword all in my hand and let me be unbound, and with thee and thy men I'll fight till I lie dead on the ground."

  The sheriff scornfully turned his back, and would not even condescend to reply to him.

  "Thou mayest be the first, thou thieving varlet," sneered Captain Bush, stepping up and flicking his glove in the face of the bound outlaw; "but I caused this gallows to be made fresh and strong, because I think thy death will bring us luck, and that now it will not be long ere most of thy cut-throat comrades shall follow each other up that rope. When I put my wits to work, thy noble master shall smart, look you; for I owe him much for that which nothing shall wipe out between us!"

  "I know not of what you charge my good chief," said Will proudly; "but if he hath harmed you, 'twas because thou weft a rascal, of that I am sure."

  "Prate not with the robber," cried the sheriff, who was on tenterhooks until Will should be hanged, so greatly did he go in fear of the wiles and stratagems of Robin Hood. "Adjust the rope and end him!"

  "Sir sheriff," cried Will; "let me not be hanged. Do but unbind my hands and I will die fighting with them alone. I crave no weapon, but let thy men's swords slay me!"

  "I tell thee, rogue, thou shalt die by the rope," cried the sheriff in a rage; "ay, and thy master too, if it ever lie in my power."

  At that moment, into the circle of sheriff's men pressed the poor old palmer, tears streaming down his cheeks. He came to Will and put both hands upon his shoulders.

  "Dear Will," he said; "thou rememberest me? Heavy is my heart to find thee in this plight. Far have I wandered, but ever have I longed for the day when I should see thy face again, and now _ "

  The rough hand of Captain Bush was thrust between them, and next moment the palmer lay on the ground, half senseless. The captain kicked him as he lay.

  "Here," he said, "take this rubbish away and cast it in the ditch there!"

  But the old palmer got up slowly and with a last look at Will turned away and limped toward the sheriff.

  "He is my younger brother, sir sheriff," said the old man. "I have come from the Holy City and my heart yearned to see him."

  "Put the rope about the rascal's neck, and up with him!" shouted the sheriff, ignoring the trembling palmer before him.

  "Farewell, dear brother," said Will. "Sorry I am that thou hast returned only to see me hung from the shameful tree. But my noble master will avenge me!"

  Captain Bush turned and smote his fist heavily upon Will's mouth.

  "Take that, thou thieving rascal and cut-throat," he cried, "for thy vain boastingú 'Twill not be long ere thy worthy master himself will need avenging."

  The coiling rope descended from above upon the ground beside Will, and Captain Bush picked it up and placed the noose over Will's head. The outlaw looked with terrible eyes into the face of the other and said:

  "I said thou wert a rascal, and if thou canst beat me thus when I am bound, I know thou art less than the lowest thief."

  For answer the captain tightened the noose savagely about Will's neck, and, turning, he shouted to the sheriff's men to haul on the rope which was passed over the gallowsbeam, so that Will should be dragged off his feet and pulled up until he slowly strangled.

  "To the rope, fellows," he cried hoarsely; "altogether! ....one....two .... "

  The word that would have jerked Will into the air was never uttered. A stone came flying straight and swiftly, and hit the captain full on the left temple. With a low groan he fell like a log at the feet of the outlaw. At the same time Little John leaped from a bush below the hill, and accompanied by Ket the Trow, from whose hand had come the stone that had laid Captain Bush low, he ran toward Will. Swiftly he cut the bonds about Will's hands and then dashing at a sheriff's man who was running toward him with uplifted sword he caught the fellow full in the breast with one fist, while with the other hand he tore the sword from his grasp.

  "Here, Will," he said with a joyful laugh, "take thou this sword, and let us defend ourselves as best we may, for aid will come quickly if all goes well."

  Back to back stood Will and Little John, while the sheriff, recovered from the stupefaction caused by the sudden events of the last few moments, found his voice and furiously bade his men seize the villain who had cut the prisoner loose.

  The men advanced in a body against the two outlaws, urged by the angry cries of the sheriff, and their swords clanged against those of the two outlaws. For a few moments the attack was furious; then suddenly, like the boom of angry bees, three great arrows dashed among them. One quivered in the body of a man next to the sheriff, and the latter turned and saw fas
t coming over the down a troop of men in green with taut bows. At their head was a man dressed all in red, with a bow taller than himself, and as he ran he fitted a great arrow to it, that looked as long as a lance.

  "Haste, haste," cried the sheriff. "Away! away!"

  So fearful was he lest next moment he should feel that long arrow pierce his side that, without more ado, he picked up his robe and ran toward the city gate for dear life, followed swiftly by his men, except two. One lay still, having been slain by the first arrow; and over the body of the other Ket the Trow was kneeling. With the rope that was to have hung Will Stuteley, he was deftly binding the arms of the still unconscious Captain Bush.

  Robin and his men ran up and there was much shaking of hands with Will Stuteley, and patting on the back and rough jests and cheering words between them all.

  "I little thought," said Will, his honest eyes lit up with thankfulness as he looked from Robin's face to the faces of his fellows, "that I should get free of that rope. It was tight about my throat and I was praying, when _ whang! _ came the stone. Who threw it?"