The drover started Blanchet off at a gallop, gave him his head, and let him take his own course. Blanchet left the travelled road, headed straight for the château across the moor, through the sand thickly sown with stiff, rounded clumps of saltwort at irregular intervals. The good horse flew over these clumps, scarcely touching the tops, landing always between them in the damp sand, from which, however, by force of long habit, he withdrew his feet without effort, calculating in advance the distance between the obstacles, galloping freely and evenly, changing feet as he chose, making sport of his heavy burden, happy at being left to himself. And Livette must needs hold tight to the drover's waist; he was a lithe, supple fellow, and swayed with the horse. And the swift motion, the free air, youth and love, all combined to intoxicate the two young people; and without meaning it, without thinking of it, the horseman repeated his song of a few moments before, between his teeth, but loud enough to be overheard by the girl: "Prends tes amours en croupe! En avant!" And it seemed to them as if the whole horizon were theirs. When they dismounted, in front of the farm-house of the château, they had not spoken a word, but they had exchanged in silence the subtlest and strongest part of themselves. From that day, Renaud, being sincerely in love, exerted himself to please. He was careful about his dress, paid more attention to the adjustment of his neckerchief, shaved more closely, and had not a single glance to spare for the other girls, even the prettiest of them. At last, he said to Livette one day: "Your father will never be willing!" Those were his first words of love. "If I am willing, my father will be. And when my father is willing, grandmother always is!" "The good God grant it!" replied Jacques. And it had happened as she said. For almost five months now they had been betrothed. The fascinating thing about Livette was that she was just the opposite of Renaud, so slender and delicate, so fair and such a child,--and, furthermore, that she loved him with all her might, the sweetheart,--there was no mistake about that. V THE LOVERS Livette was so fresh and sweet that people often repeated, in speaking of her, the Provençal expression: "You could drink her in a glass of water!" In loving Livette, Renaud experienced the pleasant feeling, so dear to the heart of strong men, of having some one to protect, a little wife, who was no more than a child. Because of Livette's fragility and slender stature, the rough drover, made for violent passions, the horseman of the Camargue desert, the hard-fisted herdsman, the subduer of mares and bulls, felt the love that is based upon sweet compassion, upon respect for charming weakness; in a word, he learned the secret of true tenderness which he could not have felt, perhaps, for one of his own class.