"No, Brooke," said Talbot, "you will never be false to your duty for my sake. You will be true, and I will stand by you. You shall never see me deserting you. If you have any friendship for me, you will be glad to see your friend by your side in the hour of your trial." "It's not that--it's not that!" cried Brooke. "Good heavens! you will not understand. Do you not see that if you remain you will soon be alone in the world, and then--who will defend you?" "I understand well what you mean," said Talbot, firmly. "You expect to die, and do not wish to leave me here alone among these ruffians. Never fear for me. Heaven will protect me. But you must know this well, and I say it once for all, I will not leave you. I cannot be false or dishonorable. I can die. Yes, Brooke, I can die, for I remember how you told me that I am an English lad. We Talbots have given up our lives in every generation for what we believe to be the good cause; and the last of the Talbots can die gladly rather than desert a friend." Brooke turned away. A sob burst from him. In vain he tried to restrain it. Then there followed an exceedingly bitter cry. "Talbot! Talbot! By heaven, you'll break my heart!" "Oh, Brooke!" cried Talbot, "be calm--oh, be calm! I say to you, as you said to me, be calm _for my sake_; for if you lose your self-control I shall break down utterly." CHAPTER XXIII. IN WHICH BROOKE AND TALBOT EXCHANGE CONFIDENCES. After some time Brooke grew calmer. "And now," said Talbot, "tell me all that took place between you and this officer, for I have not understood." Brooke told her all. "And why can't you do what he asks?" said Talbot in surprise. "Why can't you take them to that castle? You were there, and when there you say you recognized the Carlist chief himself, the very man who stopped the train. He must have the English prisoners there. Do you men to say that you will not help those poor captives?" "I cannot," said Brooke. "Cannot?" "Look here, Talbot! I've thought it over and over, and I cannot. Honor forbids. Let me explain. You see, while wandering about here, I have frequently fallen into the hands of either party, and have often been in great danger as now, yet I have always escaped. More than this, I have papers from the leading men of both sides, which testify to my character. I am therefore in honor bound never, under any circumstances, to betray one party to the other, and that, too, no matter what my own feelings may be. I came here as a neutral, a stranger, a correspondent, to get information for the distant American public. That is my business here. But the moment I begin to betray one of these parties to the other in any shape or way, the moment I communicate to others the information which I may have gained in confidence, that moment I become an infernal scoundrel."