t looked down and said nothing.

"I don't know what happened," said Brooke. "Where is everybody? And
Lopez--why did you tell him he was free? Was he a prisoner? And how? Tell
me all about it."

Upon this Talbot narrated as briefly as possible the circumstances of the
recent struggle.

"Where is everybody now?" asked Brooke.

"I don't know. It is enough for me that you are here, and alive and safe."

"And so you let Lopez go, after all?" asked Brooke, after another pause.

"Yes," said Talbot; "he did what I was praying for--he brought you back to
life. Was I wrong?"

"Wrong or right," said Brooke, "I approve of it. Everything that you do is
right in my eyes."

Talbot now began to take off the priest's dress.

"What are you doing?" asked Brooke, hastily, starting up to his feet with
a quickness which showed that, as he had said, he was quite himself again.

"I have no further use for this dress now," said she. "I will take it
off."

"Don't," said Brooke, imploringly. "Wear it still--at least as long as you
are with me; for I shall think of you, Talbot, in that dress always, until
my dying day--you in that dress--in that priest's dress, with the face of
an angel of heaven. It was thus that you looked as you came between me and
the levelled guns of the soldiers at the old mill Talbot, I should now be
a dead man but for you."

Talbot looked at him earnestly, and a sad smile stole over her face.

"Brooke," said she, "I should now be a dead girl but for you."

They both stood face to face. Brooke's memory was now fully restored, and
in his mind there was the clear and unclouded recollection of that scene
which had called forth his act of self-surrender. As he looked at Talbot,
he saw her eyes fastened on his with an expression such as he had seen
there before more than once--a look which told him of all that was in her
heart. He held out his hands. She held out hers to meet them, and he
seized them in a convulsive grasp. Thus they stood, holding one another's
hands, and looking into one another's eyes and hearts.

Talbot's eyes were moist with tears that trembled in them, and her lips
quivered as though she was about to speak. But Brooke said not one word.

At last Talbot burst forth.

"Brooke," said she, impetuously, "you may keep silent, if you choose, but
I will not, for I cannot. I will speak, Brooke. My life is yours, for you
have saved it, and henceforth all old ties belonging to my old life are
broke