Part 16 (1/2)
”That's me. I told you so. Still, there's no need to despair. It's quite plain that we cannot travel by day without being discovered, so we shall have to try it by night. This will be all the better. So you must spend this day in meditation and prayer, and also in laying up a stock of bodily and mental strength. To-night we set forth, and we must move on all night long. May I ask if there is any place in particular to which you prefer going?”
”None whatever. I must leave myself altogether to you.”
”So I suppose,” said Brooke.
”But is there no danger in this place, Mr. Brooke?”
”Danger? None whatever. I can't explain to you how completely this is out of the way of every one, whether marauder or honest man. You may be perfectly at your case on that score. Will this place satisfy you?”
”Perfectly. But I should like very much to tell you, Mr. Brooke, how grateful I feel for all this trouble and--”
”Ah, now, Miss Talbot!” cried Brooke, averting his face, and holding up both hands, ”don't--don't! Let's drop all that sort of thing. It's part of the mockery of civilization. Words generally count for nothing. Acts are all in all. What I ask of you is for you to gather up your strength so as to be able to foot it with me and not break down. But first of all, I must say I very much wish you had some costume a little less marked than that of an English lady. Now, if you could pa.s.s as a peasant-girl, or an old woman, or a goatherd's wife, or a vender of quack medicines, or anything humble and yet national, why--”
Miss Talbot shook her head with a mournful smile, and looked troubled.
”I've had an idea all day,” said Brooke, ”which I suppose there's no great harm in mentioning.”
”What?”
”What do you say to disguising yourself as a priest?”
”A priest? How can I?”
”Well, with a dress like this of mine. It's very convenient--long, ample, hides everything--just the thing, in fact. You can slip it on over your present dress, and--there you are, transformed into a priest. I hope you're not proud.”
”I'm sure I should be only too glad to disguise myself, but where can I get the dress?”
”Take this one.”
”The one that you have?”
”Yes.”
”But what will you do?”
”Do without.”
”But that will expose you to danger.”
”No it won't. It won't make the slightest difference. I'm only wearing this for the sake of variety. The fact is, you see, I found I was growing too volatile, and so I a.s.sumed a priest's dress, in the hope that it would give me greater sobriety and weight of character.
I've been keeping it up for three days, 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.'