"Let me support you," said Talbot, with feverish eagerness. "You must be weak still--very weak. You must not exert yourself too much."
She held out her arms as though to raise him up; but Brooke drew back.
"No, no," he murmured, in a faint voice; "it"s no matter--no matter at all."
Talbot 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 circ.u.mstances 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 broken. From this time I fling all the past away forever, and begin life anew."
Brooke looked at her with unutterable agitation.
"Oh, Talbot, Talbot, what do you mean?"
Talbot drew nearer and spoke further. Her eyes were fixed on his with a deeper and more earnest gaze; her voice was low, and slow, and tremulous; and at every word there went a thrill through all the being of the man to whom she spoke. And this man to whom she spoke was one whose idol she had already grown to be; whose heart her presence filled with silent delight; through whom her glance flashed with the force of lightning; through whose frame her lightest touch could send a tremor of ecstasy. This man she now held, her hands clasped in his, her eyes fixed on his, and her lips uttering words such as he had never heard before.
"Oh, Brooke," said Talbot, "I will speak! Brooke--n.o.ble, tender heart!--you love me, and with all the strength of your soul. Honor forbids you to say this in words, but you say it in every look, and it is spoken in every tone of your voice, and I feel it in every touch of your hands.
Can I not read it in your eyes, Brooke, every time that you look at me?
Most of all, can I not see how you love me when you fling your life away for me? But what is that last act of yours? It is nothing more than the sequel of long acts of self-sacrifice for me! Brooke, I know that you love me, and that you love me better than all the world, and better than life itself. Keep your words to yourself, if you choose. Lock your lips tight.
Save your plighted word, if you can; but, after all, your heart is mine. I know that you love me, and me only, and, Brooke--oh, Brooke! you know--well--well you know how dearly I--love--you!"
It was his Talbot who said this, and she said it to him, and she said it at the very time when he was all quivering under the influence of his own mighty love, and the magnetism of her look and of her touch. His head fell bowed down nearer to her as she spoke; he trembled from head to foot. He tore away his hands from her grasp, flung his arms around her, and strained her again and again to his breast in a convulsive energy of pa.s.sion. His voice was all broken, and was scarce audible as in agitated tones he murmured in her ear,
"Talbot! Talbot, darling! I love you--I adore you! I never knew what love was, till I met you!"
These asterisks are intended to represent a long silence which succeeded the remarks above reported. The policy of silence was for them quite the most sensible under the circ.u.mstances. Until this moment they had both clung to those engagements to others which neither had forgotten, and which they had confided to each other. Each knew the other"s secret. But now they both flung up those engagements and confessed their love to one another. And how such high-toned people could justify such conduct to their consciences is a problem that I, for my part, don"t pretend to be able to solve.
At length they began to be aware of the existence of the outside world.
"These poor wounded," said Talbot, "require some attention. Let us go out.
Let us get some water and try to make it easier for them."
Talbot now proceeded to take off the priest"s dress, in which task she had been interrupted by Brooke. He again tried to dissuade her, but in vain.
"No," said she; "it only gets me into trouble. If I am to be taken prisoner again it shall be in my true character. This disguise may be useful to you."
And with these words Talbot removed the dress, and stood forth in her own proper costume--that of an English lady, as she was when Brooke first met her.
And now the two went out to procure water for the wounded prisoners.
CHAPTER LIII.
WHICH TELLS OF A REUNION OF VERY DEAR OLD FRIENDS.
While Brooke and Talbot were thus conversing, others were indulging in the same pursuit, and none to better purpose than Harry and Katie.
No one can say that Katie had not been very severely tried, and had not pa.s.sed through a most distressing ordeal. Apart from the long trial of mind which had preceded that eventful morning, the circ.u.mstances of the final scene were enough to shake up stronger nerves than those of Katie.
So completely was she prostrated, that under any other circ.u.mstances nothing could have saved her from a fit of sickness, which might possibly have resulted in brain-fever and terminated fatally, for all I know; but fortunately, under these actually existing circ.u.mstances, she was spared all this. The presence of Harry made all the difference in the world.
After retiring from the scene of conflict, they ascended into that upper chamber in which Katie had last been imprisoned, and here they seated themselves so that Katie might rest, supported by Harry"s encircling arms, and at the same time be refreshed by the fresh air. Katie now began to rally with the rapidity which is characteristic of buoyant natures, and soon began to show something of her usual lightness of heart. Harry, however, though most tender and affectionate, seemed changed, and the change was soon detected by Katie"s quick perception.
"What is the matter with you?" she asked. "You don"t seem glad at all."
"Oh yes," said Harry. "I"m very glad indeed."
He spoke in a doleful tone of voice, which was by no means in accord with his words.
"Your voice don"t sound very glad," said Katie, reproachfully, "and you look troubled. You are so preoccupied that you can"t say anything. But I suppose you feel the effects of that awful scene--and oh, how awful it was!"