"How, now!" cried he, twirling his staff betwixt his
fingers, "would you four stout fellows set upon one man? Stand back, ye
rascals, or I will score your pates till they have as many marks upon
them as a pothouse door! Are ye mad? I have done you no harm."
"Thou liest!" quoth the one who pretended to be blind and who, being the
lustiest villain, was the leader of the others, "thou liest! For thou
hast come among us as a vile spy. But thine ears have heard too much for
thy body's good, and thou goest not forth from this place unless thou
goest feet foremost, for this day thou shalt die! Come, brothers, all
together! Down with him!" Then, whirling up his cudgel, he rushed upon
Robin as an angry bull rushes upon a red rag. But Robin was ready for
any happening. "Crick! Crack!" he struck two blows as quick as a wink,
and down went the Blind man, rolling over and over upon the grass.
At this the others bore back and stood at a little distance scowling
upon Robin. "Come on, ye scum!" cried he merrily. "Here be cakes and
ale for all. Now, who will be next served?"
To this speech the beggars answered never a word, but they looked at
Robin as great Blunderbore looked upon stout Jack the slayer of giants,
as though they would fain eat him, body and bones; nevertheless, they
did not care to come nigher to him and his terrible staff.
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