s, 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.

"You can have the priest's hat too," he added, "and--But no, by Jove!
I won't--no, I won't let you have the spectacles. You might wear them
in case of need, though, for they're only plain glass. But hang it! I
can't--I can't, and you sha'n't. Only fancy putting spectacles on the
angel Gabriel!"

Meanwhile Miss Talbot had taken the priest's robe and had thrown it
over her own dress. The clerical frock was of cloth, long enough to
reach to her feet, and buttoned all the way from her chin down.
Around the neck was a cape, which descended half-way to the knees. As
she passed her arms through the sleeves she remarked that it would
fit her admirably; and then taking the hat, she retired inside the
tower, so as to adjust the outlines of her new costume in a more
satisfactory manner than was possible before a spectator. At the door
of the tower she turned.

"One thing will be against me," said she. "What shall I do about it?"

"What is that?"

"Why, my hair."

"Your hair!" repeated Brooke. "H'm--well, that is a puzzle!"

"It will interfere with anything like a real disguis