n a slightly hurried tone. 'It is not like
the portrait in the _Illustrated News_.'

'I wonder which is the more like,' added he thoughtfully, 'and I fervently
hope we shall soon know. There is not a man he confides in who has not
engaged to betray him.'

'I trust you feel proud of your achievement.'

'No, not proud, but very anxious for its success. The perils of this
country are too great for mere sensibilities. He who would extirpate a
terrible disease must not fear the knife.'

'Not if he even kill the patient?' asked she.

'That might happen, and would be to be deplored,' said he, in the same
unmoved tone. 'But might I ask, whence has come all this interest for this
cause, and how have you learned so much sympathy with these people?'

'I read the newspapers,' said she dryly.

'You must read those of only one colour, then,' said he slyly; 'or perhaps
it is the tone of comment you hear about you. Are your sentiments such as
you daily listen to from Lord Kilgobbin and his family?'

'I don't know that they are. I suspect I'm more of a rebel than he is; but
I'll ask him if you wish it.'

'On no account, I entreat you. It would compromise me seriously to hear
such a discussion even in jest. Remember who I am, mademoiselle, and the
office I hold.'

'Your great frankness, Mr. Walpole, makes me sometimes forget both,' said
she, with well-acted humility.

'I wish it would do something more,' said he eagerly. 'I wish it would
inspire a little emulation, and make you deal as openly with _me_ as I long
to do with _you_.'

'It might embarrass you very much, perhaps.'

'As how?' asked he, with a touch of tenderness in his voice.

For a second or two she made no answer, and then, faltering at each word,
she said, 'What if some rebel leader--this man Donogan, for instance--drawn
towards you b some secret magic of trustfulness, moved by I know not what
need of your sympathy--for there is such a craving void now and then felt
in the heart--should tell you some secret thought of his nature--something
that he could utter alone to himself--would you bring yourself to use it
against him? Could you turn round and say, "I have your inmost soul in my
keeping. You are mine now--mine--mine?"'

'Do I understand you aright?' said he earnestly. 'Is it just possible, even
possible, that you have that to confide to me which would show that you
regard me as a dear friend?'

'Oh! Mr. Walpole,' burst she out passionately, 'do not b