The next he had dropped to the ground, to look fiercely round at
the astonished men, as he drew the dagger which hung from his belt.

[Illustration: Robin looked fiercely round at the astonished men,
as he drew the dagger which hung from his belt.]

"Who dared do this?" he cried, as he reached up to tear the bandage
from the face bending over him, and then darted round to begin
sawing at the thong which held his father's hands.

Little John took a step or two forward to help the boy, but Robin
Hood held up his hand to keep him back, and a dead silence fell
upon the great group of foresters who had pressed forward, and who
eagerly watched the scene before them in the soft, amber sunshine
which came slanting through the trees. The task was hard, but the
little fellow worked well, and many moments had not elapsed before
the prisoner's hands were free, and as if seeing no one but the
little forester before him in green, and quite regardless of all
around, he dropped upon his knees, clasped the boy to his breast,
and softly whispered the words:

"Thank God!"

Young Robin's arms were tightly round his father's neck by this
time, and he was kissing the care-worn face again and again.

"They didn't know who you were, father; they didn't know who you
were," cried the boy passionately, as if asking his father's pardon
for the outrage committed upon him.