The next morning the servants were late astir in the Sheriff’s house. The steward awoke from a heavy sleep, but his cracked head was still in such a whirl that he could not have sworn whether the Sheriff had ever owned so much as one silver dish. So the theft went undiscovered for the nonce. Robin Hood met the Sheriff at breakfast, when his host soon spoke of what was uppermost in his heart--the purchase of the fine herd of cattle near Gamewell. ‘Twas clear that a vision of them, purchased for twenty paltry gold pieces, had been with him all through the night, in his dreams. And Robin again appeared such a silly fellow that the Sheriff saw no need of dissembling, but said that he was ready to start at once to look at the herd. Accordingly they set forth, Robin in his little butcher’s cart, behind the lean mare, and the Sheriff mounted on a horse. Out of Nottingham town, through gates open wide, they proceeded, and took the hill road leading through Sherwood Forest. And as they went on and plunged deeper among the trees, Robin whistled blithely and sang snatches of tunes. “Why are you so gay, fellow?” said the Sheriff, for, sooth to say, the silence of the woods was making him uneasy. “I am whistling to keep my courage up,” replied Robin. “What is there to fear, when you have the Sheriff of Nottingham beside you?” quoth the other pompously. Robin scratched his head. “They do say that Robin Hood and his men care little for the Sheriff,” he said. “Pooh!” said the Sheriff. “I would not give _that_ for their lives, if I could once lay hands upon them.” And he snapped his fingers angrily. “But Robin Hood himself was on this very road the last time I came to town,” said the other. The Sheriff started at the crackling of a twig under his horse’s feet, and looked around. “Did you see him?” he asked. “Aye, that did I! He wanted the use of this mare and cart to drive to Nottingham. He said he would fain turn butcher. But see!” As he spoke he came to a turn in the road, and there before them stood a herd of the King’s deer, feeding. Robin pointed to them and continued: “There is my herd of cattle, good Master Sheriff! How do you like them? Are they not fat and fair to see?” The Sheriff drew rein quickly. “Now fellow,” quoth he, “I would I were well out of this forest, for I care not to see such herds as these, or such faces as yours. Choose your own way, therefore, whoever you be, and let me go mine.” “Nay,” laughed Robin, seizing the Sheriff’s bridle, “I have been at too much pains to cultivate your company to forego it now so easily. Besides I wish you to meet some of my friends and dine with me, since you have so lately entertained me at your board.”