"You can have the priest's hat too," he added, "and--But no, by Jove! I won't--no, I won't let you have the spectacles. You might wear them in case of need, though, for they're only plain glass. But hang it! I can't--I can't, and you sha'n't. Only fancy putting spectacles on the angel Gabriel!" Meanwhile Miss Talbot had taken the priest's robe and had thrown it over her own dress. The clerical frock was of cloth, long enough to reach to her feet, and buttoned all the way from her chin down. Around the neck was a cape, which descended half-way to the knees. As she passed her arms through the sleeves she remarked that it would fit her admirably; and then taking the hat, she retired inside the tower, so as to adjust the outlines of her new costume in a more satisfactory manner than was possible before a spectator. At the door of the tower she turned. "One thing will be against me," said she. "What shall I do about it?" "What is that?" "Why, my hair." "Your hair!" repeated Brooke. "H'm--well, that is a puzzle!" "It will interfere with anything like a real disguise, of course." "Well, I suppose it would. In which case we can only hope not to come near enough to the enemy to be closely inspected." "Had I not better cut it off?" said Miss Talbot. "What!" exclaimed Brooke, with amazement in his face. Miss Talbot repeated her question. "Cut off your hair--that hair!" said Brooke. "What a horrible idea!" "Will you cut it?" "Never!" said Brooke, fervently. "Shall I?" Brooke drew a long breath and looked earnestly at her. "Oh, don't ask me," said he, at length, in a dejected tone. "I'm floored! It's like throwing overboard a cargo of gold, and silver, and precious stones to lighten the ship. Yea, more--it's like the Russian woman who threw over her child to the wolves to make possible the escape of the rest of the family. But there are some who would prefer to be eaten by wolves rather than sacrifice the child." "Well," said Miss Talbot, "your comparison of the child is a little too much; but if it comes to throwing the treasure overboard to save the ship, I shall not hesitate a moment." Brooke made no reply, and Miss Talbot went into the tower. Brooke then resumed his seat, and, looking thoughtfully into vacancy, sang in a low voice all to himself: "Oh, a princess there was in the north countree, And her hair reached down below her knee; And lovers they gathered by thousands there, For love of the maid with the golden hair." CHAPTER XII. HOW BROOKE AND TALBOT TAKE TO FLIGHT. Brooke was roused from his meditations by a light footstep close beside him. He looked up, and saw Miss Talbot standing before him in her new costume. As he looked he rose to his feet and gazed at her fixedly without a word. The change was wonderful.