"What?"
"Love!" shouted the youth. His voice cracked on it. He appeared slightly annoyed. Martin chewed a grass and watched him up and down the meadow.
At the right moment he bellowed:
"I was never yet put off my feed by love."
"Then," roared the youth, "you have never loved."
At this Martin jumped over the gate and ran along the furrow behind the boy.
"I have loved," he vowed, "as many times as I have tuned lute-strings."
"Then," said the youth, not turning his head, "you have never loved in vain."
"Always, thank God!" said Martin fervently.
The youth, whose name was Robin Rue, suddenly dropped all his seed in one heap, flung up his arms, and,