“A good honest fellow,” quoth Robin Hood, “and such an one as is a credit to English yeomanrie. Now let us have a merry jest with him. We will forth as though we were common thieves and pretend to rob him of his honest gains. Then will we take him into the forest and give him a feast such as his stomach never held in all his life before. We will flood his throat with good canary and send him home with crowns in his purse for every penny he hath. What say ye, lads?”
“Truly, it is a merry thought,” said Will Scarlet.
“It is well planned,” quoth Little John, “but all the saints preserve us from any more drubbings this day! Marry, my poor bones ache so that I—”
“Prythee peace, Little John,” quoth Robin. “Thy foolish tongue will get us both well laughed at yet.”
“My foolish tongue, forsooth,” growled Little John to Arthur a Bland. “I would it could keep our master from getting us into another coil this day.”
But now the Miller, plodding along the road, had come opposite to where the yeomen lay hidden, whereupon all four of them ran at him and surrounded him.
“Hold, friend!” cried Robin to the Miller; whereupon he turned slowly, with the weight of the bag upon his shoulder, and looked at each in turn all bewildered, for though a good stout man his wits did not skip like roasting chestnuts.