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Chapter 4. Escape from Prison

Robin and his mother stayed with squire Gamwell for more than a week. They would have stayed longer, but an unexpected adventure cut short their visit and caused them to return home in haste.

During the few days after the great feast at Gamwell Hall, Robin quickly became a great favourite with the village folk. He was the leader in all manner of fun and mischief. Squire Gamwell thought that Robin’s apparent wildness was due to his having lived such a quiet life. But Robin’s mother knew that there was a spirit of adventure in her son that could not be quenched.

Maid Marian was often at Robin’s side. She, too, stayed a week with her uncle. While Robin and she were together, they shared their fun happily.

“We must not miss the fair!” shouted Robin, as he ran into the Hall.

He and Marian had heard the news that was going round the village that the annual fair would be held in Nottingham that day.

“You’ll get a poor welcome from the townspeople”, warned Will Gamwell. “Every year we go to the fair, and every year the same thing happens. The stupid people of Nottingham look down on people from the villages, like us, and there’s usually trouble”.

“We’ll give them trouble this year, all right!” laughed Robin.

A party of youths, headed by Robin and Marian, walked into Nottingham when the fair was in full swing. The tradespeople behind their brightly coloured stalls, took no notice of the band of villagers. But groups of youths from Nottingham soon spotted them and before long started to hurl insults at Robin and his friends.

It was a new experience for Robin to see a fair, and he ignored the insults while he watched keenly all that was going on. But the townsfolk began to jeer at them. Robin was too spirited to suffer this without answer. “Over with the stalls, comrades!”

There of the stalls were overturned before the townsfolk realised fully what was happening. The next moment a cry was set up for help. The townsfolk, armed with staves, tried to rush Robin’s band, but Robin leapt into the fray and fought back daringly.

“Take that!” he yelled, as he closed in on one burly fellow. “Show them what village lads are made of”. Robin stayed right in the thick of the fighting. Then, as if they had seen a ghost, most of the townspeople suddenly stopped fighting and fled in the opposite direction. It wasn’t a ghost they had seen. It was the Sheriff. He was riding into the fair ground with a strong force of guards.

“Robin! Robin! Come away!” yelled his friends. But Robin was too busy with the last of the townspeople to heed.

“Get that man!” roared the Sheriff, espying Robin as he sent another man crashing to the ground.

The Sheriff’s men rushed at Robin. He was overwhelmed and carried, struggling gamely, to the sheriff. “You’ve killed a man, you young law-breaker!” stormed the Sheriff. “You’ll be charged with that crime”. He turned to his men “Take him away. Throw him into prison!”

Robin had no chance against so many of the Sheriff’s guards. He was dragged to the town prison and flung into an empty cell.

“I wonder if Maid Marian escaped?” was Robin’s first thought as he sat on the straw of the prison cell.

Soon he began to look about him. The cell was about eight feet square. Like all prisons in his time, this one was made of timber, with a small opening near the roof to allow of light filtering into the place. As he looked up, Robin saw that the dungeon was old, and that there were great holes in the ceiling. Through these holes he could see the strawthatched roof.

“If I can’t get out of this place I’m a duffer!” said he to himself.

When darkness fell, Robin climbed to the roof of the prison and broke through the thatching. It was an easy matter for him to force his way to the outside of the roof and then to slide down to the ground.

“Take him, dead or alive!” ordered the Sheriff when he heard the news of Robin’s escape.

Robin hurried back to his uncle’s house. He bade a sad farewell to Maid Marian, placed his mother on his horse, and rode back with her over the forty-mile route by which they had come. All the time his thoughts dwelt on the in justice of being cast prison for something he had not done.

He reached home at last, but he could not rest long, for news followed swiftly that the Sheriff’s men were seeking him. He wanted desperately to avoid bringing his father into conflict with the Sheriff. He knew he must leave home.

“My father shall not be mixed up in this”, he vowed to himself. “Until the hue and cry has quietened down, I must hide in the forest”.

Robin went that day. His exciting adventures as an outlaw were beginning.

Chapter 5. “Robin Hood, Dead or Alive!”

It was noon next day when the Sheriff’s men arrived at the house where Robin’s uncle lived.

“I demand that you hand over Robin Hood in the name of His Majesty the King!” ordered the leader.

“Robin Hood left for home yesterday”, answered Squire Gamwell. “He lives forty miles away!”

Forty miles did not deter the Sheriff’s men. After their orders from the Sheriff they dared not return without bringing back their prisoner.

“Get me Robin Hood, dead or alive!” the Sheriff had commanded early that morning. “Am I to be made a fool of in my own town? Is it to be known that a man can break out of my own goal Am I not answerable to the King himself for the punishment of those who offend against the laws of the country? Bring me Robin Hood, I say! Get him – dead or alive!”

When the Sheriff’s men had covered the forty miles to the cottage where Robin lived, they were met by Robin’s father.

“We have orders to arrest Robin Hood”, said the leader. “We demand, in the name of His Majesty the King, that you hand him over to us”.

“He is not here”, replied Robin’s father. “He is in the forest. If you venture through, take great care. Anybody who goes along the forest-paths makes an excellent target for the arrows of men who are skilled with the bow. Some of you may never see Nottingham again if you do take care”.

In spite of any wrong that his son had done, Robin’s father was trying to protect him by dissuading the Sheriff’s men from going into the forest.

The Sheriff’s men listened to him; but they searched the house and grounds just the same, in case the lad was hiding there all the time.

“He’s spoken the truth, all right”, said the leader. “We shall have to seek Robin Hood in the forest”. There was disappointment in his voice; he and his men were going to face a search that was not pleasant.

At the edge of the forest they halted. They realized how futile it would be to try to march through the undergrowth when behind every tree and bush a hidden marksman might be waiting. The Sheriff’s men turned and took the winding road to Nottingham. It was safer!

Robin had entered the forest in the evening time, and he wandered through the quiet glades, trying go decide what would be best for him to do.

“Yet, this is the life I have longed for!” he murmured to himself. “This is the free, open-air life for which I have yearned!”

He gathered a heap of leaves and brushwood; then, with his flint and steel, he made a spark and let it fall on a piece of tinder-wood that he kept in his box. Placing the smoul-dering tinder in the heap of dry leaves, he blew into the flame, and soon had a bright fire burning.

Robin already felt lonely. Yet he was not alone. All his movements had been watched. The distant glow of the fire had been noticed by other outlaws. They had been in the forest a long time. Stealthily they gathered around him, creeping closer and closer.

Robin wrapped himself in his cloak and threw himself down to sleep. No sooner was he off his guard than the outlaws rushed at him Robin stirred, to find himself surrounded by rough men.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” demanded one of them.

“Who are you?” asked another.

Robin was wide awake by this time. He sat up and looked at the men around him.

“I am here because a certain gentleman, whom we call the Sheriff, invited me to be his guest in Nottingham”, he told them. “He would hear of no refusal – he even sent a jolly band of men to escort me to him”.

The men laughed.

“Did you go?” asked one.

“No! I came to the forest instead. I was told that the Sheriff was so keen to see me that he didn’t care whether I was alive or dead! He’ll never take me alive; and, as I don’t want to die, I have changed my address. That’s why I came – and I am here to stay”.

The men smiled at his humour, and let him stay. They invited him to eat with them.

“We live on the King’s deer, and the venison from it; there are birds in the trees that can also be shot and cooked”.

So Robin joined the men, and found himself one of a band.

The story of his escape into the forest was talked about in all the villages on that side of the forest where he used to live. It spread, too, around the villages on that side of the forest where his uncle’s home was, at Gamwell Hall. They remembered with pride the talented youngster who had been with them for only a short time, and who had shown them how wonderfully skilled in manly sport he was.

When the harsh feudal laws of the day oppressed the homes of any of these villagers they would not hesitate to join Robin in the forest. One after another they came, and it was not long before a large number had joined the band. Those outlaws who were in the forest before Robin felt sure that one with so many friends and followers must surely be an important person. They were convinced that he was a man of much higher birth than themselves.

So he was. But he never boasted about the fact that his father was related to a very noble family, or that, had it not been for strange twists of fortune in relation to his mother’s ancestors – the death of someone here, the marriage of some one there – he would have become Earl of Huntingdon.

After a while everyone began to look upon Robin as their natural leader. Not only did he come of good family, but he was superior to all in his use of the quarter-staff and sword, and, above all, of the bow-and-arrow.

By common consent he was made the outlaws’ captain.

“We must have only the best of bows, made of strong, pliable yew”, said Robin when all his band were seated round the campfire one night. “Our arrows, too, must be perfectly made”.

He gave a great deal of time to making his band proficient with their weapons and useful with their fists. He thought it advisable for his men to carry, besides their arrows, short swords.

“Not what about clothing?” he asked on one occasion. “It is fitting that we should be clad like men of the forest”.

The outlaws were dressed at that time in many-coloured clothes, shabby and torn through much hard wear.

“Why not dress ourselves in green cloth?” Robin said. “Then, since the grass and the leaves of the forest are green, we should be less likely to be noticed”.

All agreed that this was a fine idea.

Later Robin showed the men how by blowing different ways upon his horn, various messages could be sent. A number of sharp blasts could mean a cry for help; the sounding of two notes in quick succession could mean someone was calling; three sharp blasts could mean that Robin himself wanted to speak to his men.

It was early one summer evening when Robin called his followers about him.

“I have called you here”, he said, “to tell you details of a great plan. It is useless for us to hide here as if we were all villains. We are living in strange times, where there seems to be one law for the rich and another for the poor. The rich are well looked after, whereas the poor are not only neglected but are treated worse than dogs. The barons in their castles do as they like. Let us teach them to do what we like!”

His men roared with laughter. “You may well laugh!” said Robin. “There are a hundred and forty of us – as good men as ever drew a bow. Outside the forest there are many bad men, bad things, bad ways. Let us go and alter them! Let us right the wrongs done to the poor. Pledge me your word that our plan will be to help the poor!”

They agreed wholeheartedly with Robin’s brave and chivalrous purpose. They pledged their word to support him.

<== попередня сторінка	\|	наступна сторінка ==>
Chapter 3. Trials of Strength	\|	Chapter 6. Little John

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