So saying, he drew a [v]vizard from his pouch, and, repeating his charges to them to stand fast, went to reconnoitre. "Shall we stay, Gurth?" asked Wamba; "or shall we give him [v]leg-bail? In my foolish mind, he had all the equipage of a thief too much in readiness to be himself a true man." "Let him be the devil," said Gurth, "an he will. We can be no worse for waiting his return. If he belongs to that party, he must already have given them the alarm, and it will avail us nothing either to fight or fly." The yeoman returned in the course of a few minutes. "Friend Gurth," he said, "I have mingled among yon men and have learned to whom they belong, and whither they are bound. There is, I think, no chance that they will proceed to any actual violence against their prisoners. For three men to attack them at this moment were little else than madness; for they are good men of war and have, as such, placed sentinels to give the alarm when any one approaches. But I trust soon to gather such a force as may act in defiance of all their precautions. You are both servants, and, as I think, faithful servants of Cedric the Saxon, the friend of the rights of Englishmen. He shall not want English hands to help him in this extremity. Come then with me, until I gather more aid." So saying, he walked through the wood at a great pace, followed by the jester and the swineherd. The three men proceeded with occasional converse but, for the most part, in silence for about three hours. Finally they arrived at a small opening in the forest, in the center of which grew an oak-tree of enormous magnitude, throwing its twisted branches in every direction. Beneath this tree four or five yeomen lay stretched on the ground, while another, as sentinel, walked to and fro in the moonlight. Upon hearing the sound of feet approaching, the watch instantly gave the alarm, and the sleepers as suddenly started up and bent their bows. Six arrows placed on the string were pointed toward the quarter from which the travelers approached, when their guide, being recognized, was welcomed with every token of respect and attachment. "Where is the miller?" was Locksley's first question. "On the road toward Rotherham." "With how many?" demanded the leader, for such he seemed to be. "With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please Saint Nicholas." "Devoutly spoken," said Locksley. "And where is Allan-a-Dale?" "Walked up toward the [v]Watling Street, to watch for the Prior of Jorvaulx." "That is well thought on also," replied the captain. "And where is the friar?" "In his cell."