At last Robin gave the stranger a blow upon the ribs that
made his jacket smoke like a damp straw thatch in the sun. So shrewd
was the stroke that the stranger came within a hair's-breadth of falling
off the bridge, but he regained himself right quickly and, by a
dexterous blow, gave Robin a crack on the crown that caused the blood to
flow. Then Robin grew mad with anger and smote with all his might at the
other. But the stranger warded the blow and once again thwacked Robin,
and this time so fairly that he fell heels over head into the water, as
the queen pin falls in a game of bowls.
"And where art thou now, my good lad?" shouted the stranger, roaring
with laughter.
"Oh, in the flood and floating adown with the tide," cried Robin, nor
could he forbear laughing himself at his sorry plight. Then, gaining his
feet, he waded to the bank, the little fish speeding hither and thither,
all frightened at his splashing.
"Give me thy hand," cried he, when he had reached the bank. "I must
needs own thou art a brave and a sturdy soul and, withal, a good stout
stroke with the cudgels.
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