g him to a very different estimate of
his taste and pursuits. Indeed, he only knew Talbot from his own lips,
and from them he learned to regard him as the emissary despatched by the
Irish party in France, to report on the condition of the insurgents in
Ireland; and, if necessary, to make preparations for the French landing
on the Irish shores. Mark could not well understand how any one charged
with such a mission, could have either wasted his time or endangered
his safety by any ridiculous adventures, and did not scruple to show his
astonishment at the circumstance.

Talbot smiled significantly at the remark, and exchanged a glance with
Crossley, while he answered--

"Placed in such a position as I have been for some years, Mark, many
different parts have been forced upon me; and I have often found that
there is no such safe mask against detection, as following out the bent
of one's humour in circumstances of difficulty. An irresistible impulse
to play the fool, even at a moment when high interests were at stake,
has saved me more than once from detection; and from habit I have
acquired a kind of address at the practice, that with the world passes
for cleverness. And so, in turn, I have been an actor, a smuggler,
a French officer, an Irish refugee, a sporting character, a man of
pleasure, and a man of intrigue; and however such features may have
blended themselves into my true character, my real part has remained
undetected. Master Crossley here might furnish a hint or two towards it;
but--but, as Peachem says, 'we could hang one another'--eh, Bill?"

A nod and a smile, more grave than gay, was Crossley's answer; and
a silence ensued on all sides. There was a tone of seriousness even
through the levity of what Talbot said, very unlike his ordinary manner;
and Mark began, for the first time, to feel that he knew very little
about his friend. The silence continued unbroken for some time; for
while Mark speculated on the various interpretations Talbot's words
might hear, Talbot himself was reflecting on what he had just uttered.
There is a very strange, but not wholly unaccountable tendency in men
of subtle minds, to venture near enough to disclosures to awaken the
suspicions, without satisfying the curiosity of others. The dexterity
with which they can approach danger, yet not incur it, is an exercise
they learn to pride themselves upon; and as the Indian guides his canoe
through the dangerous rapids of the St. Lawrence