Part 36 (1/2)

After Brooke had grown tired of his own meditations, he wandered toward the window and looked out. Here he stood watching the men below, and studying their faces until he had formed his own conclusion as to the character of each one.

”I'm trying,” said he to Talbot, who came near, ”to find out which one of these fellows is the most susceptible of bribery and corruption. They're all a hard lot; the trouble is that one watches the other so closely that I can't get a fair chance.”

”I wonder where the others have gone,” said Talbot.

”Oh, they've gone off to search for the prisoners, of course,” said Brooke. ”I don't believe they'll find anything about them on this road; and as for the castle, they'll be unable to do anything there unless they take cannon.”

At length the opportunity arrived for which Brooke had been waiting.

The guards had wandered off to a little distance, and only one man was left. He was just below at the door of the mill. Brooke was glad to see that he was the ugliest of the lot, and the very one whom he had mentally decided upon as being the most corruptible.

Upon this man he began to try his arts.

”Good-morning, senor,” said he, insinuatingly.

The man looked up in a surly way, and growled back something.

”Do you smoke?” asked Brooke.

The man grinned.

Upon this Brooke flung down a small piece of tobacco, and then began to address himself to further conversation. But alas for his hopes!

He had just begun to ask where the others had gone and where the man belonged, when a flash burst forth, and a rifle ball sung past him through the window just above his head. It was one of the other ruffians who had done this, who at the same time advanced, and with an oath ordered Brooke to hold no communication with the men.

”I may stand at the window and look out, I suppose?” said Brooke, coolly.

”We have orders to allow no communication with the prisoners whatever. If you speak another word you'll get a bullet through you.”

Upon this Brooke concluded that his plan was a failure.

Evening came at length, and the darkness deepened. The band were still absent. The men below were perfectly quiet, and seemed to be asleep.

”I have a proposal to make,” said Talbot, ”which is worth something if you will only do it.”

”What is that?”

”I have been thinking about it all day. It is this: Take this priest's dress again, and go. The priest, you know, is not a prisoner. He stays voluntarily. He has leave to go whenever he wishes. Now, you are the real priest, I am not. I am wearing your dress. Take it back, and go.”

Brooke looked at her for a few moments in silence. It was too dark for her to see the look that he gave her.

At length, with his usual short laugh, he said,

”Well, that's a refres.h.i.+ng sort of a proposal to make, too, after all that has pa.s.sed between us!”

”Why not?” asked Talbot. ”What objection is there to it?”

”Such a question,” said Brooke, ”does not deserve an answer.”

”My plan is feasible enough, and quite safe too.”

”Nonsense! And what, pray, is to become of you?”