'My heart told me so,' he said, coming a step or two nearer the pool, 'and so did my eyes when I saw its reflection looking up from the water. It bewitched me, sweet.' 'Did it?' laughed she, with a tilt of her round young chin. 'Yes,' he said, with an answering laugh, drawing another step nearer the pool. 'It does not take a man of your breed long to fall in love,' said the beautiful maid, with a toss of her golden head and a curl of her sweet red lips. 'Who told you that?' asked the love-sick young man, going red as a poppy. 'Faces carry tales as well as little birds,' quoth she. 'If my face is a tale-bearer, it will tell you that I love you more than heart can say and tongue can tell,' he said, drawing yet nearer the pool. 'Will it?' said she, combing her golden hair with her sea-green comb. 'Indeed it will, and must,' he said; 'for I love you with all my soul, and I want you to give me a lock of your golden hair to wear over my heart.' 'I do not give locks of my hair to landlubbers!' cried she, with another toss of her proud young head and a scornful curl of her bright red lips. 'A landlubber forsooth!' he said, with an angry flash in his bold black eyes. 'Who are you to speak so scornfully of a man of the land? One would think you were a maid of the sea.' 'I am,' quoth she, twining the tress of her hair she had combed round her shell-pink arm. 'No seamaid is half as beautiful as you,' said Tristram Bird, incredulous of what the maid said. 'But, maid of the sea or maid of the land, I love you, sweet, and I want to have you to wife.' 'Want must be your master, sir,' said she, with an angry flash in her sea-blue eyes. 'Love is my master, sweet maid,' he said. 'You are my love, and you have mastered me.' 'Have I?' said she, with a little toss of her golden head. 'Yes,' he said; 'and now that I have told you you are my love, and I want you to marry me, you will give me a lock of your golden hair, won't you, sweet?' 'I cannot,' said she. 'Give me one little golden wire of your hair, if you won't give me a lock,' he pleaded, coming close to the edge of the pool. 'I will make a golden ring of it,' he said, 'and wear it in the eye of the world.' 'Will you?' said she. 'I will, my dear,' he said. 'But I will not give you a hair of my head even to make a ring with,' said she. 'Then give me one for a leading-string,' he said. 'If you will, my charmer, you shall take the end of it and lead me whithersoever you will.' 'Even to the whipping-post?' said she. 'Even to the whipping-post,' he said. 'So you will be my fair bride, won't 'ee, sweet? If you will consent to love me, I'll make you as happy as the day is long.' 'Will you?' cried she, with a warning look in her sea-blue eyes and a strange little laugh. 'Yes,' he said, thinking her answer meant consent. 'And I've got a dear little house at Higher St. Saviour's, overlooking the river and Padstow Town low in the valley.' 'Have you?' said she.