Then up spake the Bishop of Hereford in a mournful voice, "I, too,
must
be jogging,
good fellow, for the night waxes late."
But Robin laid his hand upon the Bishop's arm and stayed him. "Be not
so hasty, Lord Bishop," said he. "Three days hence Sir Richard must pay
his debts to Emmet; until that time thou must be content to abide with
me lest thou breed trouble for the Knight. I promise thee that thou shalt
have great sport, for I know that thou art fond of hunting the dun deer.
Lay by thy mantle of melancholy, and strive to lead a joyous yeoman life
for three stout days. I promise thee thou shalt be sorry to go when the
time has come."
So the Bishop and his train abided with Robin for three days, and
much sport his lordship had in that time, so that, as Robin had said,
when the time had come for him to go he was sorry to leave the green-
wood. At the end of three days Robin set him free, and sent him forth
from the forest with a guard of yeomen to keep freebooters from taking
what was left of the packs and bundles.
But, as the Bishop rode away, he vowed within himself that he would
sometime make Robin rue the day that he stopped him in Sherwood.
But now we shall follow Sir Richard; so listen, and you shall hear what
befell him, and how he paid his debts at Emmet Priory, and likewise in
due season to Robin Hood.
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Chapter
15
How Sir Richard of the Lea Paid His Debts
T
HE LONG HIGHWAY stretched straight on, gray and dusty in the
sun. On either side were dikes full of water bordered by osiers, and
far away in the distance stood the towers of Emmet Priory with tall pop-
lar trees around.
Along the causeway rode a knight with a score of stout men-at-arms
behind him. The Knight was clad in a plain, long robe of gray serge,
gathered in at the waist with a broad leathern belt, from which hung a
long dagger and a stout sword. But though he was so plainly dressed
himself, the horse he rode was a noble barb, and its trappings were rich
with silk and silver bells.
So thus the band journeyed along the causeway between the dikes, till
at last they reached the great gate of Emmet Priory. There the Knight
called to one of his men and bade him knock at the porter's lodge with
the heft of his sword.
The porter was drowsing on his bench within the lodge, but at the
knock he roused himself and, opening the wicket, came hobbling forth
and greeted the Knight, while a tame starling that hung in a wicker cage
within piped out, "
In coelo quies! In coelo quies!" such being the words that
the poor old lame porter had taught him to speak.
"Where is thy prior?" asked the Knight of the old porter.
"He is at meat, good knight, and he looketh for thy coming," quoth the
porter, "for,
if I mistake not, thou art Sir Richard of the Lea."
"I am Sir Richard of the Lea; then I will go seek him forthwith," said
the Knight.
"But shall I not send thy horse to stable?" said the porter. "By Our
Lady, it is the noblest nag, and the best harnessed, that e'er I saw in all
my life before." And he stroked the horse's flank with his palm.
"Nay," quoth Sir Richard, "the stables of this place are not for me, so
make way, I prythee." So saying, he pushed forward, and, the gates be-
ing opened, he entered the stony courtyard of the Priory, his men behind
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