and ever and anon, as he lifted his head for the purpose of drinking,
glancing a wanton eye at one of the tymbesteres.

"But an' you had seen," said a trooper, who was the mouthpiece of his
comrades--"an' you had seen the raptrils run when King Edward himself
led the charge! Marry, it was like a cat in a rabbit burrow! Easy to
see, I trow, that Earl Warwick was not amongst them! His men, at
least, fight like devils!"

"But there was one tall fellow," said a soldier, setting down his
tankard, "who made a good fight and dour, and, but for me and my
comrades, would have cut his way to the king."

"Ay, ay, true; we saved his highness, and ought to have been
knighted,--but there's no gratitude nowadays!"

"And who was this doughty warrior?" asked one of the bystanders, who
secretly favoured the rebellion.

"Why, it was said that he was Robin of Redesdale,--he who fought my
Lord Montagu off York."

"Our Robin!" exclaimed several voices. "Ay, he was ever a brave
fellow--poor Robin!"

"'Your Robin,' and 'poor Robin,' varlets!" cried the principal
trooper. "Have a care! What do ye mean by your Robin?"

"Marry, sir soldier," quoth a butcher, scratching his head, and in a
humble voice, "craving your pardon and the king's, this Master Robin