“What I have told thee is sooth, and I lie not,” said Robin, still in Guy of Gisbourne’s voice. “Look, is not this Robin Hood’s sword, and is not this his good bow of yew, and is not this his bugle horn? Thinkest thou he would have given them to Guy of Gisbourne of his own free will?”
Then the Sheriff laughed aloud for joy. “This is a good day!” cried he. “The great outlaw dead and his right-hand man in my hands! Ask what thou wilt of me, Guy of Gisbourne, and it is thine!”
“Then this I ask of thee,” said Robin. “As I have slain the master I would now kill the man. Give this fellow’s life into my hands, Sir Sheriff.”
“Now thou art a fool!” cried the Sheriff. “Thou mightst have had money enough for a knight’s ransom if thou hadst asked for it. I like ill to let this fellow pass from my hands, but as I have promised, thou shalt have him.”
“I thank thee right heartily for thy gift,” cried Robin. “Take the rogue down from the horse, men, and lean him against yonder tree, while I show you how we stick a porker whence I come!”
At these words some of the Sheriff’s men shook their heads; for, though they cared not a whit whether Little John were hanged or not, they hated to see him butchered in cold blood. But the Sheriff called to them in a loud voice, ordering them to take the yeoman down from the horse and lean him against the tree, as the other bade.