a deep silence, broken only by their own quick
breathing.

Brooke felt a hand in his. He caught it in a convulsive grasp; and
the two hands clung to each other, and throbbed with the vehement
pulsations of two hearts that now beat with intensest feeling.

"Let me go," wailed Brooke, at last, snatching his hand away. He
gasped for breath. He retreated farther into the darkness. Talbot
stood motionless and trembling. There was silence again for a long
time. It was at last broken by Brooke.

"Come, Talbot," he said, with feverish rapidity and a wretched
assumption of carelessness. "Let's engage in conversation. What shall
we talk about? The weather? Or the crops? Or shall we talk politics?
By-the-bye, can't you sing something? I tell you what--it isn't fair.
You make me do all the singing. But I don't mind. You're a good
listener, at any rate. If you like I'll sing a hymn."

And he began, singing through his nose:

"Oh, a maiden she lived in the south countrie,
And a werry fine maid, my boy, was she,
For her hair was as red as red can be;
So off we go to Marymashee.

And a jolly young cove fell in love with she,
Says he, 'My lass, will you marry me?'
One foot up and t'other foot down,
And away we travel to London town."

Again there was a sound below. Brooke's song had roused the guard.

Talbot gave a wild start.

"They're coming!" she gasped, in a tone of horror. "They're
coming--at last. They won't wait!"

"Pooh!" said Brooke, whose voice by this time had regained its old
careless ring; and he whined on:

"Cats don't come at half-past eight
Tap-tap-tappiug at the garding gate!"

Talbot gave a sigh that sounded like a groan. The sounds below
subsided, and all was still once more.

So the night passed.

Morning came.

A man brought up bread and wine; but now there was no thought of
eating, even for the sake of saving strength. Neither one spoke, nor
did either venture to look at the other.

At length they were summoned outside. Lopez was there, with half a
dozen men around him. Farther away were the rest of the men, watching
the scene. On the right were a dozen men with rifles. Brooke was as
cool as usual. Talbot was calm, but deathly pale.

"Senor Brooke," said Lopez, "I am a man of but few words, and few
need now be said. I have given you a long respite--longer than I
said. What is your decision? Will you go with us and show us where
the Carlists took the English la