“Gilbert is not yet beaten!” he cried. “Did he not shoot within the mark thrice? And that is allowed a best in all the rules of archery.”
“As it please Your Majesty!” quoth he. “But may I be allowed to place the mark for the second shooting?”
The King waved his hand sullenly.. Thereupon Robin prepared another old trick of the greenwood, and got him a light, peeled willow wand which he set in the ground in place of the target.
“There, friend Gilbert,” called he gaily; “belike you can hit that!”
“I can scarce see it from here,” said Gilbert, “much less hit it. Nathless, for the King’s honor, I will try.”
But this final shot proved his undoing, and his shaft flew harmlessly by the thin white streak. Then came Robin to his stand again, and picked his arrow with exceeding care, and tried his string. Amid a breathless pause he drew the good yew bow back to his ear, glanced along the shaft, and let the feathered missile fly. Straight it sped, singing a keen note of triumph as it went. The willow wand was split in twain, as though it had met a hunter’s knife.
“Verily, I think your bow is armed with witchcraft!” cried Gilbert. “For I did not believe such shooting possible.”
“You should come to see our merry lads in the greenwood,” retorted Robin lightly. “For willow wands do not grow upon the cobblestones of London town.”
Meanwhile the King in great wrath had risen to depart, first signing the judges to distribute the prizes. Never a word said he, of good or ill, to the Queen, but mounted his horse and, followed by his sons and knights, rode off the field. The archers dropped upon one knee as he passed, but he gave them a single baleful look and was gone.
Then the Queen beckoned the outlaws to approach, and they did so and knelt at her feet.
“Right well have ye served me,” she said, “and sorry am I that the King’s anger is aroused thereby. But fear ye not. His word and grace hold true. As to these prizes ye have gained, I add others of mine own--the wagers I have won from His Majesty the King and from the lord Bishop of Hereford. Buy with some of these moneys the best swords ye can find in London, for all your band, and call them the swords of the Queen. And swear with them to protect all the poor and the helpless and the women--kind who come your way.”