Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw the points of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then, without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away. He had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I heard him stop and swear savagely--I did not need to look to learn the reason--I admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived, for a moment later came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a shout and the Imp's voice upraised in dire distress. "Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called. I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made that promise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I should be called upon to fulfil it. Still, a promise is a promise: so I sighed, and picking up the joint of my fishing rod, clambered up the bank. Glancing in the direction of the cries, I beheld Robin Hood struggling in the foe's indignant grasp. Now, there were but two methods of procedure open to me as I could see--the serious or the frankly grotesque. Naturally I chose the latter, and quarter-staff on shoulder, I swaggered down the path with an air that Little-John himself might well have envied. "Beshrew me!" I cried, confronting the amazed Mr. Selwyn, "who dares lay hands on bold Robin Hood?--away, base rogue, hie thee hence or I am like to fetch thee a dour ding on that pate o' thine!" Mr. Selwyn loosed the Imp and stared at me in speechless astonishment, as well he might. "Look ye, master," I continued, entering into the spirit of the thing, "no man lays hand on Robin Hood whiles Little-John can twirl a staff or draw a bow-string--no, by St. Cuthbert!" The Imp, retired to a safe distance, stood hearkening in a transport till, bethinking him of his part, he fished out the tattered book and began surreptitiously turning over the pages; as for Mr. Selwyn, he only fumbled at his moustache and stared. "Aye, but I know thee," I went on again, "by thy sly and crafty look, by thy scallopped cape and chain of office, I know thee for that same Sheriff of Nottingham that hath sworn to our undoing. Go to! didst' think to take Robin--in the greenwood? Out upon thee! Thy years should have taught thee better wisdom. Out upon thee!" "Now will I feed"--began the Imp, with the book carefully held behind him, "now will I feed fat mine vengeance--to thy knees for a scurvy rascal!" "Aye, by St. Benedict!" I nodded, "twere well he should do penance on his marrow-bones from hither to Nottingham Town; but as thou art strong--be merciful, Robin." Mr. Selwyn still curled the point of his moustache. "Are you mad," he inquired, "or only drunk?" "As to that, good master Sheriff, it doth concern thee nothing--but mark you! 'tis an ill thing to venture within the greenwood whiles Robin Hood and Little-John he abroad." Mr. Selwyn shrugged his shoulders and turned to the Imp.