It was done as Robin had commanded, and Reuben and Ruth were lodged in a secret hut on the slope of Wearyall Hill, not far from where the outlaws were staying. Both father and daughter were very weak, and the old Jew was much wasted as the result of his sufferings, but with generous food and the warmth of good clothes and a huge fire, a few days saw them stronger in health and better in spirits. Their gratitude to Robin was unbounded, but it was expressed more by their shining eyes than by words.
When the old man felt stronger Robin asked him to tell how he had fallen into the wretched state in which Will Stuteley had found him, and Reuben willingly complied.
"Thou hast heard, doubtless, good outlaw," said the Jew, "that when the great and brave King Richard was crowned at Westminster last autumn, the rabble of that great city did turn upon the Jews and sack their houses and slay some of my poor people. And your king did punish the ringleaders of the mob who slew and robbed our people, by hanging some and branding others with hot irons. But when, a short month ago, he left the country with his knights and a great army, to go to Palestine upon the Crusade, thou knowest that in many towns the rioting against us began again. Many knights and lords were gathering to depart for the Crusade and a those who are here with me have slain themselves and their families," replied Ephraim. "Then die thou likewise!" said Illbeast, and at the words the rabble slew the kneeling Jews and spared not one. Then the mob poured into the castle, and we lay expecting every moment to be found and dragged forth. After some time they left the castle and rushed away to the cathedral where, as thou knowest, the king keeps the records of the loans made by my people to the Christians in those parts, and those parchments they burned utterly, so that now Alberic of Wisgar and the other evil knights are free of all their debts."
"How got you free?" asked Little John, who, with Will the Bowman, Scarlet and Arthur-a-Bland, were listening with Robin Hood.
"God, in answer to our prayers, softened the heart of a man-at-arms, who discovered us, but would not betray us for pity of our sufferings. He got food for us and soldiers' cloaks to disguise us, and on the second night he took us and let us out of the town by a privy gate, and directed us on our road to Nottingham."
"Know you what befell those ruffian knights and robbers?'' asked Robin.
"The soldier, whom God reward for his noble heart," said the old man, "told us that all had fled the town fearing the anger of the king's officers. The knights had quickly gone forward to the Crusade, while of the rabble and the robbers some had fled to Scotland or taken to the forests, and others lay hid in the town. And he said further that the king's justices would visit the ill-doing heavily upon the town, and that already the sheriff and principal merchants were quaking for fear. And now, sir outlaw," continued Reuben, "I have a boon to ask of thee. I have a daughter and a son in Nottingham, to whom we were hastening. They grieve for us as dead, and I would crave that you let one of your men go to their house and tell them that we are safe, and that we will be with them when it shall please you to let us go, and I am strong enough to set forth."
"Surely," said Robin, "that shall be done. Who will go of you and take the message to the Jew's people? What do you say, Will, as 'twas you who found them?"
"I will go with a good will," said Will Stuteley. "Give me thy message and tell me where I may find thy kinsfolk, and I will set out forthwith."
Both Reuben and Ruth were warm in their thanks, and having given Will the necessary directions and messages, Will departed to dress himself in a disguise which would prevent his being recognized by any of the citizens who may have seen him when they had been~'required to pay toll to the outlaws when passing through the forest.
That afternoon, therefore, a pilgrim in his long dark robe, his feet in ragged shoes, a scallop shell on his bonnet and a stout staff in his hand, might have been seen passing through Bridlesmith postern gate an hour before sunset, when the gates would close for the night. He took his way through the streets with a slow stride as befitted a pilgrim who had traveled far and was weary.
Will the Bowman did not think that there was any likelihood of his being recognized in his disguise, but though he seemed to keep his eyes bent humbly to the ground, he looked about keenly now and then to pick up landmarks, so as to know that he was going the right way to the house of Silas ben Reuben, one of the chief men in the Jewry of Nottingham, to whom he was to take the message from the old Jew.
At length Will entered the street of the Jewry, and began counting the number of doors from the corner, as he had been told to do by Reuben, since he was not to excite attention by asking any one for the house. The outlaw noticed that while several of the house doors were open, through which he could see women at work and children playing, others were fast locked and their shutters closed, as if the dwellers feared that what had happened to the Jews in other towns might happen to them also.
When at length he came to the ninth house, he knocked at the door, which was barred, and waited.
A wicket in the door was opened and a man's dark eyes peered out.
"What is it thou wantest?" was asked.
"I wish to see Siles ben Reuben," replied Will; "I have a message for him."
"What secret words or sign hast thou that thou art not a traitor, who would do to me and mine as has been done to others of our people?" came the stem reply through the wicket.
"I say to thee these words," went on the outlaw, and said certain Hebrew words which he had been told by Reuben.
Instantly the face disappeared from the wicket, bolts were drawn and the door swung open. "Enter, friend," said the Jew, a short, sturdily built man. The outlaw entered and the door was barred behind him. Then the
Jew led him into an inner room, and turning said:"I am he whom thou seekest. Say on."
"I come to tell thee," said the outlaw; "that thy father, Reuben of Stamford, and thy sister Ruth, are safe and well."
"Now, thanks be to God," said the man, and clasping his hands, he bowed his head and murmured words of prayer in some foreign tongue.
"Tell me how thou didst learn this," he said when he had finished his prayer; "and where they are, and how soon I may see them?"
Thereupon the outlaw told Silas the Jew the whole story of his discovery of little Ruth and her father, and of their sufferings as related by the old man. When he had finished the Jew thanked him for his kindness to Reuben and Ruth, and then went into another room. When he returned he bore in his hand a rich baldrick or belt, of green leather, with a pattern worked upon it of pearls and other precious stones.
"Thy kindness is beyond recompense," he said; "but I would have thee accept this from me as a proof of my thanks to thee."
"I thank thee, Jew," said Will, "but 'tis too rich a gift for me. It befits my master more. But if thou wouldst make a gift to me, give me a Spanish knife if thou hast one, for they are accounted of the best temper and make throughout Christendom."
"I will willingly give thy master this baldrick if he will take it of me," said the Jew, "and thou shalt have the best Spanish knife in my store."
He thereupon fetched such a knife and presented it to the outlaw, who tried the keen blade, and found that it was of the finest make.
It was becoming dark now, and the outlaw wished if possible to leave the town before the gates were shut. Arrangements, however, had to be settled with the Jew as to how and when he would send horses and men to meet Reuben and Ruth at a spot where Robin Hood and his men would take them from their present hiding-place. It was quite dark by the time all things were settled, and the Jew wished Will to stay the night with him, saying there was no one else in the house with him, as he had sent his wife, his sister and his children into a place of greater safety for fear of the rabble.
"I thank thee, Jew," said the outlaw; "but I would liefer sleep at a place I wot of, which is near the gate, so that I may slip out of the town at the break of day when they first open."
As the outlaw went along the narrow street of the Jewry after leaving the
house of Silas, two men walking together passed him silently, looking at him furtively. They did not seem to have the dress of Jews, and he wondered at the silence of their footsteps. He slowed his own steps to allow them to get further ahead of him, but they also went more slowly, and kept at the distance of six paces before him. One of them looked swiftly behind from time to time. He knew then that they watched him, and that either because they knew he was of Robin's band, or because he had visited the Jew's house, they meant harm to him.
As he thought thus, he gripped the haft of his Spanish knife and stopped, determined to sell his life dearly if they also stopped and turned round upon him. At the same moment he felt a hand upon his arm, and a voice whispered in his ear:
"Friend of Silas ben Reuben, the spies dog thee. Come with me."
The outlaw saw a dark form beside him. A door opened noiselessly, and Will was pulled into what seemed to be a narrow winding passage. Along this the hand upon his arm led him for several yards until suddenly he felt the night air blowing upon his face, and he looked up and saw the stars.
"Go to the left," said the same voice in his ears; "'twill lead thee to the Fletcher Gate." "I thank thee, friend," said Will; and strode to the left.
A few steps took him into the narrow street which led to the gate named, and Will Stuteley hurried forward, thankful that by the aid of the unknown Jew he had been saved from capture. Without further delay the outlaw went to an inn which overlooked the town wall, and whose landlord asked no questions of his customers. There in the common room Will partook of a frugal supper, and then, ascending to the sleeping-chamber, a large room on the first floor where all the lodgers of the house would sleep when they sought repose, he threw himself in a corner on the straw which covered the floor and was soon sound asleep.
As time went on, others came up from the room below, found suitable places along the wall and composed themselves to sleep. Stuteley awoke as each came up, but having glanced at the newcomer by the light of the rush light which, stuck in a rough tin holder on one wall, gave a dim light about the apartment, he turned and slept again. Very soon the room became almost full, and the later comers had to step over the prostrate forms of snoring men to find places where they could sleep.
After a time, however, the house became quiet; no more men came up into the sleeping-room and the house seemed sunk in slumber. The wind moaned a little outside the house and crooned in the slits of the shutter at a window hole, and sometimes a sleeper would murmur or talk in his sleep with thick almost unintelligible words, or fling his arm about as if in a struggle, or groan as if in pain. The street without was dark and silent, cats slunk in the gutter which ran down the middle of the street, or a stray dog, padding through the streets, would come to a comer, sniff the wind and howl.
Before the first glint of dawn had showed itself in the cold street, Stuteley was awake. He loved not houses; their roofs seemed to press upon him, and when in the forest he was wont to issue from the bower or the hut in which he slept, and to walk out from time to time to look at the sky, to smell the odor of the forest, and to listen to the murmur of the wind in the sleeping trees. As he lay there in the dark he longed to be up and away in the cool air of the forest. He cautiously rose, therefore, and feeling his way over the sleeping men, he made his way to the door, where a ladder of rough wooden steps led to the room below.
As he strove to open the door he found that a man's body lay before it. He stirred him gently with his foot, thinking that the man would understand that he wished to open the door and would seek another place.
"A murrain on thee, fellow," came a voice beside the outlaw. "Why so early astir? The town gate will not open till I am there. Are ye some thief that seek to flee the city before men are about?"
"No thief am I," said Stuteley; "I am but a poor pilgrim who must fare to the holy shrine at Walsingham. And as I have far to go I must needs be early astir."
By this time the man before the door had risen and had himself opened the door and stood at the head of the stairs. Stuteley followed him and waited for him to descend, for the stairs were not wide enough for two men to pass. The man who had spoken also came forth, and in the faint dawn they glanced keenly at the outlaw. They were sturdy fellows and were dressed in sober tunic and hose, as if they were the servants of a well-to-do burgher.
"A pilgrim art thou?" said the one who had spoken already. He laughed in a scornful manner as he looked at Stuteley up and down. "A pilgrim's robe often covers a rogue's body."
Saying this he gestured to the stairs and Stuteley hastened to descend, feeling that he would better serve his purpose by appearing to be harmless than to answer with a bold speech. The other men followed closely upon his heels and all three entered the living room together. Two men sat at a table, and at sight of the two others behind Stuteley they rose and advanced. The foremost, a big man with a villainous cruel look, and the scar of an old wound across his cheek, came forward and said:"Who have you there?"
"A pilgrim, captain, as he doth declare himself." Stuteley saw that he had been caught. His hand leaped to his belt, but at the first movement the two men behind him had gripped his arms.
"Show his left hand," cried the captain _ "that will show whether this pilgrim knows not another trade{ Ah, I thought so!" he went on, as one of them thrust forth Stuteley's left hand, the forefinger of which showed where a corn or hardening had grown by reason of the arrow shot from the bow rubbing against the flesh. "This is our man _ one of that ruffian Robin's band!"
Quick as thought the outlaw wrenched himself free and darted toward the door. He hoped that he might be swift enough to lift up the bar and dash out; but they were too quick for him. Even as he raised the heavy beam which rested in a socket on each side of the door, the four men were upon him. Still holding the bar, he swept round upon them and sent one man crashing to the floor, where he lay senseless. Then, using the beam as a weapon, he beat the others back for a moment. Suddenly, however, the big captain got behind one of his own men, and catching him by the shoulder, he thrust him against Stuteley. Down came the beam on the man's head, stretching him senseless; but before the outlaw could recover himself, the captain and the other man had rushed upon him and overpowered him, holding him down on the floor.
The landlord, roused by the noise, came rushing in, and the captain commanded him to bring ropes. Now the landlord knew Will Stuteley, who had often stayed in his house disguised as a beggar or a palmer, and felt very grieved that one of bold Robin Hood's band should be taken by the sheriff's men. He therefore affected to be very distraught, and ran about from place to place, pretending to look for rope, hoping that somehow Will might be able to get up if he were given time, and break away from his captors.
But it was all in vain. "A murrain on thy thick wits!" yelled the captain from where he kneeled holding one of Will's arms. "If thou findest not ropes in a twinkling, thou rogue, the sheriff shall hear of it."
"Oh, good captain!" cried the landlord, "I am all mazed, and know not where anything is. I be not used to these deeds of man-taking, for my house was ever a quiet one."
Seeing that it was no use to delay longer, the landlord found some rope, and soon Will's arms were strongly bound. While this was being done, the landlord managed to give a big meaning wink to the outlaw, by which he gave Will to know that he would be his friend and would send tidings of his capture to Robin. Then Will was jerked to his feet, and with mocking words was led off to prison.
The landlord sent a man to the forest as soon as the town gates were open. It was late in the day ere he fell in with one of Robin's band, and he told the outlaw, who happened to be Kit the Smith, how Will had been taken, but had slain two men with a door beam before he was overpowered. When Kit the Smith had brought the man to where Robin was seated, deep in the forest, they found that a good burgher, who had been befriended by Robin some time before, had already sent a man who told the outlaw that Stuteley had been tried before the sheriff that day, and that he would be hanged
outside the town gate next morning at dawn.
"Already, as I set out," said the man, "I saw the timber being brought and the old gallows being repaired. 'Twas in honor, they said, of the first of Robin's men whom they had taken, but they thought now 'twould not be long ere many others of your band should hang from the gallowsbeam."
"What meant they by that?" asked Robin.
"Well, maister," replied the burgher's man, an honest, forthright-looking fellow; "they say that the sheriff hath took a crafty thief-catcher into his service, a man who hath been in many wars in France and Palestine, and who is wise in stratagems and ambuscades; and they say it will not be long ere he lays some trap which will take all your band."
"What manner of man is this thief-catcher?" asked Robin. "How is he named?"
"'Tis a tall big man, a swashbuckling boaster, with a loud hectoring voice and a great red face. Some name him him Captain Bush or Beat the Bush, but others call him the Butcher."
Henry Gilbert - Robin Hood Page 20
