Even the heavy John was not unmoved by the beauty of their road, while the bowman whistled lustily or sang snatches of French love songs in a voice which might have scared the most stout-hearted maiden that ever hearkened to serenade.
"I have a liking for that north countryman," he remarked presently.

"He hath good power of hatred.

Couldst see by his cheek and eye that he is as bitter as verjuice.

I warm to a man who hath some gall in his liver." "Ah me!" sighed Alleyne.

"Would it not be better if he had some love in his heart ?" "I would not say nay to that.