At last he shot the water out of his ears and spat some out of his mouth, and, gathering his scattered wits together, saw the stout Friar standing on the bank and laughing.

Then, I wot, was Robin Hood a mad man.

"Stay, thou villain!" roared he, "I am after thee straight, and if I do not carve thy brawn for thee this day, may I never lift finger again!" So saying, he dashed, splashing, to the bank.
"Thou needst not hasten thyself unduly," quoth the stout Friar.

"Fear not; I will abide here, and if thou dost not cry 'Alack-a-day' ere long time is gone, may I never more peep through the brake at a fallow deer." And now Robin, having reached the bank, began, without more ado, to roll up his sleeves above his wrists.

The Friar, also, tucked his robes more about him, showing a great, stout arm on which the muscles stood out like humps of an aged tree.