r sight. The "priest" was standing directly in front
of Brooke and facing the file of soldiers. At that moment also Brooke
opened his eyes again and saw Talbot in front of him.

He stepped forward and seized her arm.

"Oh, Talbot! oh, Talbot!" he groaned. "This is worse than death. Why
will you torment me?"

Talbot shook him off. Brooke threw a despairing look at the captain,
and shrank back. Talbot folded her arms and stood in front of him.

Had she only been able to speak Spanish she would have told them
all--how this man had run into danger on her account, how he was now
dying through her, how she was resolved to die either for him or with
him. She would have told them all that, but that would not have
revealed the half of all the eloquent story which stood unfolded in
her attitude and in her face.

She stood erect, her arms folded on her breast, facing thus the file
of soldiers.

Her look, however, was as though she saw them not. Her eyes were
turned toward them, yet their gaze was fixed on vacancy. She thus
showed her face--looking thus with steadfast eyes--a calm face,
serene, tranquil, white as marble, and as motionless. All that Brooke
had seen there which had made him think of the Angel Gabriel, and all
that Lopez had seen there which made him think of the Apostle John,
was now clearly manifest in that noble and expressive countenance. It
was the face of a pure, a lofty, an exalted nature, full of
profoundest feeling and matchless self-control--the face of one who
was resolved to die, the face of a martyr, the face of one who was
standing in full view of Death, who was waiting for his approach, and
was undismayed.

As for Brooke, he at last experienced all that he had dreaded. He was
utterly overcome. White, ghastly, trembling from head to foot, he
stared at Talbot with something like horror in his face, yet he could
not move. He stood shuddering, and speechless.

At such an astonishing and unexpected spectacle the very soldiers
gazed in awe.

Hardened as they were, there was something in Talbot's determined
self-sacrifice, and in Brooke's manifest anguish of soul, which
overcame them all, and hushed them all alike into wonder and silence.
All eyes were fixed on the two who thus stood before the file of
soldiers. At length there arose murmurs--strange murmurs indeed to
come from such men, for they indicated pity and compassion.

Upon Lopez the effect of all this was overwhelming. He had seen it
fr