rm you
if they knew you to be a woman. It was for your sake that I kept your
secret, and now it has turned out to be the very worst thing that I could
have done."

"I deny that it was the worst," said Talbot, calmly. "Thus far it has
protected me most effectively. As for the future, we have yet to choose
our plans."

"Too late!" said Brooke.

"I do not think so," said Talbot. "You do not give any reasons. At any
rate, I will try--"

"Do not! do not!" said Brooke, earnestly. "It is too late. I will tell
you. You see, this deception has gone on so long, and his trust in you is
so profound, that the shock would be more than he could bear. As a priest
you have won his confidence, even his reverence. If you now tell him that
it was all a cheat, his wrath would burst forth beyond all bounds. He
would consider it an outrage on his holiest and most generous feelings.
He would believe that you had wantonly trifled with all that is most
sacred and most sensitive in the heart. Then there is more than this. For
some reason he is bent on marrying this girl. If you refuse now, and tell
him the truth, it will only intensify his resentment against you, and
turn it into a vengeful fury. There is no pain that he will not inflict.
There will be nothing too horrible for his revenge. He will say that you
deceived and cheated him unnecessarily and persistently; that even if
there was a necessity for it in the first place, you might at least have
confided in him after he had shown himself so merciful to me. He will say
that you must have found him out to be a chivalrous gentleman, in whose
protection you would have been safe, and this maintenance of your
disguise all this time and up to the last moment was a mockery and a
sham. And therefore," concluded Brooke, "every other resource ought
first to be tried, and this should not be made use of till all others
have failed. It will be useless at any time, but if it is made use of at
all, it ought to be last of all."

"Well, I don't know," said Talbot, doubtfully. "I will do as you say,
Brooke; but to go on in this way, and keep up this disguise till the
last, seems to me to involve certain destruction. I suppose he cannot be
persuaded to postpone the marriage."

Brooke shook his head despondingly.

"No," said he, "that is impossible. There is some strong reason for this
haste. He has, perhaps, extorted some promise from the girl. Perhaps she
does not love him. Perhaps he is afraid if he