"I have been in the forest," said Little John, "and there I have seen a wondrous sight, one of the finest I ever yet saw. Yonder I saw a right gallant hart; his colour is green. Seven score of deer in a herd altogether are with him. His antlers are so sharp, master, I durst not shoot, for dread lest they should slay me." "By heaven, I would fain see that sight," said the sheriff. "Turn thy steps thither, then, at once, dear master," said Little John. "Come with me; I will show you where he lies." The sheriff rode off, and Little John ran beside him, for he was full smart of foot. Through the forest they went, and by-and-by they came to Robin Hood in the midst of his band of yeomen. "Lo, there is the master hart," said Little John. The sheriff stood still in dismay, and he was a sorry man. "Woe worth thee, Reynold Greenleaf, thou hast betrayed me." "Ye are to blame, master, I swear," said Little John. "When I was at home with you I was misserved of my dinner." Then the outlaws made their guest sit down to supper with them, which he did with no good will, for he would fain have departed to his home at Nottingham. He was served on his own silver dishes, and when he saw his beautiful cups and vessels the sheriff for sorrow could not eat. "Cheer up, sheriff," urged Robin Hood. "For the sake of Little John thy life is granted thee. What, man, eat and be merry! Here is fine fat venison served in a goodly vessel." By the time they had well supped, the day was done. Robin then bade his men strip the sheriff of his fine clothes, his hose and his shoes, his kirtle, and the large handsome coat all trimmed with fur--and to give him in their place a green mantle to wrap himself in. He further bade his sturdy lads all to lie round the sheriff in a circle under the greenwood tree, so that he might see them, and know there was no chance of escape. It was a sorry night the sheriff passed, cold and shivering, in his shirt and breeches, on the hard ground; small wonder that his bones ached, and that he sighed piteously for his soft warm bed at home. "Come, come, sheriff, cheer up!" said Robin; "for this is our order, you know, under the greenwood tree." "This is a harder order than any anchorite or friar!" groaned the sheriff. "For all the gold in merry England I would not dwell here long." "Thou wilt dwell here with me for the next twelve months," said Robin. "I shall teach thee, proud sheriff, to be an outlaw." "Before I lie here another night, Robin, smite off my head rather, and I'll forgive it thee," said the sheriff. "Let me go, for pity's sake!" he begged, "and I will be the best friend that ever thou hadst." "Before I let thee go, thou shalt swear me here an oath," said the outlaw. "Swear on my sword that thou wilt never seek to do me harm by water or by land. And if thou find any of my men, by night or by day, thou shalt swear on thy oath to help them all thou canst."