the strongest faith, as a little sister might have done. She would
have fought for him like a little mastiff; she would have suffered in
his service with rapture and pride; she was as vigilant for his
interests as if she were fidelity incarnated. She watched over all
that belonged to him, and the people of Ruscino feared her more than
they feared Pierino the watch-dog. Woe betided the hapless wight who
made free with the ripe olives, or the ripe grapes, with the fig or
the peach or the cherry which grew on Adone's lands; it seemed to
such marauders that she had a thousand eyes and lightning in her
feet.

One day, when she had dealt such vigorous blows with a blackthorn
stick on the back of a lad who had tried to enter the fowl-house,
that he fell down and shrieked for pardon, Adone reproved her.
"Remember they are very poor, Nerina," he said to her. "So were your
own folks, you say."

"I know they are poor," replied Nerina; she held to her opinions.
"But when they ask, you always give. Therefore it is vile to rob you.
Besides," she added, "if you go on and let them steal and steal till
you will have nothing left."

Whatever she saw, whatever she heard, she told Adone; and he gave ear
to her because she was not a chatterer, but was usually of few words.
All her intelligence was spent in the defence and in the culture of
the Terra Vergine; she did not know her alphabet, and did not wish to
do so; but she had the quickest of ears, the keenest of eyes, the
brightest of brains.

One morning she came running to him where he was cutting barley.