"Only a trick of the times," said Wamba; "they are all prisoners."

"Who are prisoners?" exclaimed Gurth, impatiently.

"My lord, and my lady, and Athelstane, and Hundibert, and Oswald."

"In the name of God!" said Gurth, "how came they prisoners?--and to

whom?"

"Our master was too ready to fight," said the Jester; "and Athelstane

was not ready enough, and no other person was ready at all. And they are

prisoners to green cassocks, and black visors. And they lie all tumbled

about on the green, like the crab-apples that you shake down to your

swine. And I would laugh at it," said the honest Jester, "if I could for

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weeping." And he shed tears of unfeigned sorrow.

Gurth's countenance kindled--"Wamba," he said, "thou hast a weapon,

and thy heart was ever stronger than thy brain,--we are only two--but a

sudden attack from men of resolution will do much--follow me!"

"Whither?--and for what purpose?" said the Jester.

"To rescue Cedric."

"But you have renounced his service but now," said Wamba.

"That," said Gurth, "was but while he was fortunate--follow me!"

As the Jester was about to obey, a third person suddenly made his

appearance, and commanded them both to halt. From his dress and arms,

Wamba would have conjectured him to be one of those outlaws who had just

assailed his master; but, besides that he wore no mask, the glittering

baldric across his shoulder, with the rich bugle-horn which it

supported, as well as the calm and commanding expression of his voice

and manner, made him, notwithstanding the twilight, recognise Locksley

the yeoman, who had been victorious, under such disadvantageous

circumstances, in the contest for the prize of archery.

"What is the meaning of all this," said he, "or who is it that rifle,

and ransom, and make prisoners, in these forests?"

"You may look at their cassocks close by," said Wamba, "and see whether

they be thy children's coats or no--for they are as like thine own, as

one green pea-cod is to another."

"I will learn that presently," answered Locksley; "and I charge ye, on

peril of your lives, not to stir from the place where ye stand, until

I have returned. Obey me, and it shall be the better for you and your

masters.--Yet stay, I must render myself as like these men as possible."

So saying he unbuckled his baldric with the bugle, took a feather from

his cap, and gave them to Wamba; then drew a vizard from his pouch,

and, repeating his charges to them to stand fast, went to execute his

purposes of reconnoitring.




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