The old Blue-Laws, of all the best, Od Calvin made in solemn jest; For fun he never could tolerate. Unless established by the State:-- A Puritan, A funny man, John Calvin was a Puritan!" This eccentric song Brooke droned out in nasal tones and with a lachrymose whine to the strangest tune that ever was heard. At its close he heaved a sigh, and said: "Well, it's dry work singing hymns all by myself, and you won't even 'jine' in the choruses, and so--I'll stop the machine." Saying this, he turned away and went to the opposite side of the small loft, where he sat down with his head against the wall. "Does any lady or gentleman present object to smoking?" said he, after a brief pause, as he drew forth his pipe and smoking materials. "Because I propose to take a smoke, and I should like to know, just out of curiosity." To this Talbot made no reply, but sat down opposite Brooke, in the same attitude, and watched him as he smoked, which he proceeded to do without any further delay. "You don't smoke, I believe, sir," said he, with all gravity. Talbot said nothing. "Well," said Brooke, "I wouldn't advise you to begin;" and with that he went on puffing away. Brooke at last finished his smoke, after which he put his pipe in his pocket, and then, throwing his head back, sat with his eyes obstinately fixed on the ceiling. Talbot remained in the same attitude, without moving. She had kept her eyes all this time fixed on Brooke, and knew that he was avoiding her glance. All the same, however, she continued watching him, and was waiting patiently till she should catch his eye. But Brooke, as though aware of her purpose, avoided her, and still locked away. Thus these two sat in utter silence for a long time. It was Talbot who first broke the silence. "Brooke," said she, in a soft, low voice, which sounded like a sigh. "Well, Talbot," said Brooke, in a voice which was strangely altered from the somewhat hard tones of forced gayety in which he had last been speaking. "Brooke," said Talbot, "I am miserable." Brooke was silent for a time. He made a movement, then checked himself, and then said, "Are you? Odd, too, isn't it?" "I am miserable," said Talbot again; "and it is strange, for your life has been saved, and we are out of immediate danger. Yet I am now more miserable than I was last night when your life was in danger. Can you tell me why it is so, Brooke?" Again Brooke made a movement, which he checked, as before, by a strong impulse. "Give it up," said he, shortly. "I know," said Talbot. "I'll tell you. It was this," and her voice dropped as she spoke to a lower tone. "Last night I had made up my mind to die for you, Brooke." Brooke drew a long breath. For an instant his eyes lowered. They caught the gaze which Talbot had fixed on him--deep, intense, unfathomable. It was but for a moment, and then it was as though he made a violent effort, and tore them away.