"Now," quoth he, "I would that I had a priest here to shrive you; but, as none is nigh, you must e'en travel your road with all your sins packed upon your backs, and trust to Saint Peter to let you in through the gates of Paradise like three peddlers into the town." In the meantime, while all this had been going forward, an old man had drawn near and stood leaning on his staff, looking on.

His hair and beard were all curly and white, and across his back was a bow of yew that looked much too strong for him to draw.

As the Sheriff looked around ere he ordered his men to string the three youths up to the oak tree, his eyes fell upon this strange old man.

Then his worship beckoned to him, saying, "Come hither, father, I have a few words to say to thee." So Little John, for it was none other than he, came forward, and the Sheriff looked upon him, thinking that there was something strangely familiar in the face before him.

"How, now," said he, "methinks I have seen thee before.