had neither approved nor
disapproved. Working in his mind was jealous wonderment that Robin
should prefer such a life to that which might have been his at Gamewell.
The Squire made no show of this, however.

"I will guard Mistress Fitzwalter from all harm, rely upon me. And go,
since you must. Here is our Master Gilbert--Gilbert no more. I should
scarcely have known her."

Marian entered from the other end of the hall. The maids had found her a
dress, grey-blue as her eyes. She bloomed like an early rose on this
sweet spring morning.

"And you are going to leave me, Robin?" she said, mournfully.

The Squire had disappeared. Robin, approaching, took her hand. He looked
up from it, and saw the golden arrow gleaming in her hair--that arrow
which had so strangely marked the beginning of his troubles. Marian
smiled, and her eyes invited him.

And so these two kissed each other frankly, mouth to mouth.

* * * * *

A little later Robin was speeding through the forest. His feet were
light, and he sang softly to himself as he trod the springy grass.

Suddenly a sad song broke upon his ear. 'Twas a doleful song, full of
tears; and Robin, in consternation, stopped short.

Along the woodland path there came towards him a minstrel carrying a
harp and trailing a rope. "Marry, friend, but your harp is out of all
harmony!" began Robin.

"I do not play upon it," retorted the minstrel.

"You sing a sad song," said Robin; "and I, who am happy, am put out of
countenance by it. Therefore sing it not until I am far from you."

"My heart overflows with sorrow," said the minstrel, "and so I must sing
of sadness and of death."

"Tell me your sorrow, friend," Robin begged, "and walk with me back upon
the road. Like as not I can help you."

"I should not speak my grief to you," the minstrel told him, "for you
are happy."

"One who lives in the greenwood cannot be otherwise," observed Robin.
"Come, walk with me, and coil the rope."

"I had brought it," said the minstrel, "so that I might hang myself to
some old oak, and thus fittingly end the wretched, misfortunate life of
Allan-a-Dale."

Robin perceived that there was a story to follow. "Walk with me, gossip,
and ease your heart in confidence," he said, cheerfully. "I can likely
help you. To-day is my lucky day."

"Know then, happy stranger, that I have lost my dear, and through no
fault of mine own," said Allan-a-Dale, as they walked togethe