"I--I have forgotten it, master," answered the boy, and cowered against
the wall.

"You lie!" cried Ferne, and the table shook again beneath his hand. "Did
I not exercise you in it until you were perfect? Sing!"

The boy opened his mouth and there came forth a heart-broken sound. His
master stamped upon the floor. "Shall I not also torture where I can?
Sing, Robin, my man! Fling back your head and sing like the lark in the
sky! What! am I fallen so low that my very page flouts me, kicks
obedience out-of-doors?"

Robin-a-dale straightened himself and began to sing, with bravado, a
fierce red in his cheeks, and his young voice high and clear:

"Now list to me, ladies, and list to me, gentles;
I've a story for your ears of a false, false knight,
Whom England held in honor, but he treasured Spain so dearly
That he sold into her hands his comrades in fight.

"'Twas before a walled city with the palm-trees hanging over;
He was Captain of the _Cygnet_, and it sank before his eyes;
The Englishmen ashore, they're taken in the pitfall,
Good lack! they toil in galleys or their souls to God arise.

"He sees them in his sleep, the craven and the traitor.
The sea it keeps their bones, their bloody ghosts they pass--"

"For God's sake!" cried Arden; and the boy, snatching with despairing
haste at the interruption, ceased his singing, and in the heavy silence