A Castle in Spain Part 33

"Well," said Brooke, "we must take a walk after breakfast:

"'Oh, if I was the owner of London town, I'd buy my love a scarlet gown-- A gown of scarlet bombazine, And away we'd travel to Gretna Green.'"

"Have you ever been there?" asked Talbot, trying to a.s.sume Brooke's own careless tone.

"Yes, Talbot; of course I have. Every American makes a pilgrimage there when he visits England. As the poet says:

"'I have been there, and still would go; 'Tis like a little heaven below.'

Talbot!"

Brooke's voice changed.

"Well, Brooke."

"Can you be sure of yourself this day? Can you stand it?"

"Yes, Brooke."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Brooke."

"Oh, Talbot, Talbot! don't shrink! Oh, Talbot, don't falter! For my sake, don't let me see you falter, Talbot, or I shall break down.

Alone I could let myself be tortured to death by Comanches, and I'd sing my death-song as bravely as Mullins Bryan; but mark this, Talbot: if you break down, if you even falter, I'm a lost, ruined, and dishonored man. Will you remember that, Talbot?"

As he spoke these words, Brooke's voice had a thrill in it that Talbot had never heard before.

"Brooke," said she, "I will be firm. Rather than show any weakness, I will die."

"That's very good," said Brooke. "Your hand on it, Talbot."

She held out her hand. He pressed it with a convulsive grasp.

"You will not forget?" he asked, eagerly.

"I cannot forget," she answered, simply.

"Good lad!" said Brooke. He dropped her hand, and at once resumed his careless manner. "And now," said he, "we can continue our music:

"'For there the historic blacksmith stands--'

Gretna Green, you know--

"'And hammers away at the marriage bands.'

Only he don't do so now, you know, for he's dead and gone, and they've got new marriage laws."

Not long after this a man came up with a flask of wine and some rolls. Brooke took them from him and brought them over.

"Talbot," said he, "you don't want to eat--in fact, at this moment you hate food. But while I am with you I'm your master, and I now command you to eat. Moreover, let me add that it is necessary to eat, or else you may grow faint; and then, when there comes a chance of escape, you won't be able to walk, and I shall have to carry you, don't you see? And now won't you eat, just for the sake of saving me from unnecessary fatigue?"

"I will eat if you will," said Talbot.

"Eat!" exclaimed Brooke. "What! I eat? Oh, well, I don't mind. For that matter, I'd just as soon eat a pair of boots as not."

He broke off a fragment of bread and ate it. Talbot did the same, and thus both forced themselves to eat, and each did this for the sake of the other.

They said nothing while thus forcing themselves to eat. The thought that was present to each was enough to occupy the mind, and it was one which could not be put in words. Brooke saw Death awaiting himself, and, worse than that, he saw Talbot--alone, friendless, despairing, in the hands of remorseless fiends. Talbot, on the other hand, saw Death awaiting Brooke, and never could shake off the torturing thought that his death was owing to her, and that he was virtually dying for her. Had it not been for her he might still have been safe. And it seemed to her to be a very hard and bitter thing that such a man as this should have to die in such a way, and that she should be the cause. Ah! it became very hard for her to keep her promise to maintain her coolness, and to force back those tears and those cries that were ready to burst forth beyond control. Yet such was this girl's high nature that she could crush down her weak woman's heart, and turn toward Brooke a face in which there was not a trace of emotion, and speak in a voice without a tremor.

Soon a man appeared once more, thrusting his head up into the loft, and in a stern voice he ordered them to come down.

Brooke rose. He did not look at Talbot. He walked toward the ladder, droning out in a nasal whine, to a most extraordinary tune, the following words:

"Come on, you tarnal Mingo, I'll make you walk your chalks; D'ye think I care, by jingo!

For all yer tomahawks!

I'm more of Salamander And less of mortal man: You cannot shake my dander, I'm a rale American!"

At the opening he paused, and looked back at Talbot's pale face.

"Did you ever hear the death-song of Mullins Bryan?" he asked.

"No," said Talbot.

"H'm! I suppose not," said Brooke.

He then went down, and Talbot followed.

CHAPTER XXII.

HOW TALBOT HAS LIFE AND FREEDOM OFFERED, AND HOW SHE DECLINES THE OFFER.

Outside, Lopez was seated upon a stone which stood close by the foundation wall of the mill, and near him were about a dozen of his followers. The rest of the band were at a distance, and were all variously occupied. Some were lolling on the gra.s.s, smoking; others were lying down as though trying to sleep; others were squatting on their haunches in groups, talking and gesticulating; others were wandering away in different directions.