"Ah, now, Miss Talbot!" cried Brooke, averting his face, and holding up both hands, "don't--don't! Let's drop all that sort of thing. It's part of the mockery of civilization. Words generally count for nothing. Acts are all in all. What I ask of you is for you to gather up your strength so as to be able to foot it with me and not break down. But first of all, I must say I very much wish you had some costume a little less marked than that of an English lady. Now, if you could pass as a peasant-girl, or an old woman, or a goatherd's wife, or a vender of quack medicines, or anything humble and yet national, why--" Miss Talbot shook her head with a mournful smile, and looked troubled. "I've had an idea all day," said Brooke, "which I suppose there's no great harm in mentioning." "What?" "What do you say to disguising yourself as a priest?" "A priest? How can I?" "Well, with a dress like this of mine. It's very convenient--long, ample, hides everything--just the thing, in fact. You can slip it on over your present dress, and--there you are, transformed into a priest. I hope you're not proud." "I'm sure I should be only too glad to disguise myself, but where can I get the dress?" "Take this one." "The one that you have?" "Yes." "But what will you do?" "Do without." "But that will expose you to danger." "No it won't. It won't make the slightest difference. I'm only wearing this for the sake of variety. The fact is, you see, I found I was growing too volatile, and so I assumed a priest's dress, in the hope that it would give me greater sobriety and weight of character. I've been keeping it up for three days, and feel a little tired of it. So you may have it--a free gift--breviary and all, especially the breviary. Come--there's a fair offer." "I really cannot make out," said Miss Talbot, with a laugh, "whether you are in jest or earnest." "Oh, then take me in earnest," said Brooke, "and accept the offer. You see, it's your only chance of escape. You know old Billy Magee-- "'Old Billy Magee wore a flaxen wig, And a beard did his face surround, For the bailie came racing after he With a bill for fifty pound.' "So what do you say to gracefully giving way to necessity?" "If you really think that you will be running no risk--" "No more than I've always been running until three days ago." "Well, I shall be very glad indeed, and only too much obliged." "That's an uncommonly sensible decision," said Brooke. "You see," said he, as he unbuttoned the priest's robe, "I've merely been wearing this over my usual dress, and you can do the same." As he spoke he drew off the robe. "You can slip it on," he continued, "as easy as wink, and you'll find it quite large enough every way." And now Brooke stood divested of the priest's dress, revealing himself clothed in a suit of brown tweed--hunting-coat, knickerbockers, stockings, laced boots, etc. He then took from his coat pocket a travelling-cap with a visor, which he put upon his head.