“With how many?” demanded the leader, for such he seemed to be.

“With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please St. Nicholas.”

“Devoutly spoken,” said Locksley; “and where is Allan-a-Dale?”

“Walked up towards the 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.”