“Then to Plympton we will go!” cried Robin suddenly springing into action; and he gave out orders like a general: “Will Stutely, do you have four-and-twenty good men over against Plympton Church ‘gainst three o’ the afternoon. Much, good fellow, do you cook up some porridge for this youth, for he must have a good round stomach--aye, and a better gear! Will Scarlet, you will see to decking him out bravely for the nonce. And Friar Tuck, hold yourself in readiness, good book in hand, at the church. Mayhap you had best go ahead of us all.” The fat Bishop of Hereford was full of pomp and importance that day at Plympton Church. He was to celebrate the marriage of an old knight--a returned Crusader--and a landed young woman; and all the gentry thereabout were to grace the occasion with their presence. The church itself was gaily festooned with flowers for the ceremony, while out in the church-yard at one side brown ale flowed freely for all the servitors. Already were the guests beginning to assemble, when the Bishop, back in the vestry, saw a minstrel clad in green walk up boldly to the door and peer within. It was Robin Hood, who had borrowed Allan’s be-ribboned harp for the time. “Now who are you, fellow?” quoth the Bishop, “and what do you here at the church-door with you harp and saucy air?” “May it please your Reverence,” returned Robin bowing very humbly, “I am but a strolling harper, yet likened the best in the whole North Countree. And I had hope that my thrumming might add zest to the wedding to-day.” “What tune can you harp?” demanded the Bishop. “I can harp a tune so merry that a forlorn lover will forget he is jilted,” said Robin. “I can harp another tune that will make a bride forsake her lord at the altar. I can harp another tune that will bring loving souls together though they were up hill and down dale five good miles away from each other.” “Then welcome, good minstrel,” said the Bishop, “music pleases me right well, and if you can play up to your prattle, ‘twill indeed grace your ceremony. Let us have a sample of your wares.” “Nay, I must not put finger to string until the bride and groom have come. Such a thing would ill fortune both us and them.” “Have it as you will,” said the Bishop, “but here comes the party now.” Then up the lane to the church came the old knight, preceded by ten archers liveried in scarlet and gold. A brave sight the archers made, but their master walked slowly leaning upon a cane and shaking as though in a palsy.