Of these words Talbot took no notice whatever. She was silent for a time and thoughtful. Then she went on to speak: "I know. I begin, I think, to understand all about it. The girl he means to marry is this English girl, the daughter of Mrs. Russell. Captain Lopez loved her, as we were told. He has followed her here, and effected her deliverance from her Carlist captors, and now, as a matter of course, she feels grateful to him and is willing to marry him. But how can I do anything? I cannot. It is horrible sacrilege. It is frightful sin. No; I will tell him the whole truth." Brooke looked at her with a face of anguish. "Oh, Talbot," said he, "if you do, what will become of you?" "What?" said Talbot, in a firm voice. "He will kill you--and worse than that," said Brooke. "Why should he kill me?" said Talbot. "It will do him no good. What cause will he have to kill me?" "I have thought it all over," said Brooke, "all over, a thousand times. I have speculated as to the possible result of a frank disclosure, and I've come to the conclusion that it is better to run every risk in this disguise, and go even to the verge of death, rather than divulge your secret now." "Divulge my secret!" said Talbot, in surprise. "And why not? What is there to divulge? I have only to say that I am not a priest--I am an English lady, who have assumed this disguise as a safeguard." Brooke sighed. "It's too late, too late! Oh, fool that I was--cursed, cursed fool! But I was afraid to trust those Republicans; I feared that they might harm you if they knew you to be a woman. It was for your sake that I kept your secret, and now it has turned out to be the very worst thing that I could have done." "I deny that it was the worst," said Talbot, calmly. "Thus far it has protected me most effectively. As for the future, we have yet to choose our plans." "Too late!" said Brooke. "I do not think so," said Talbot. "You do not give any reasons. At any rate, I will try--"