ded into the tower through the gap, and
assisted the lady after him. They then went up the broken stairway,
and out into the open air to the fallen tree where they had taken
their breakfast. Upon this he seated himself, and the lady did the
same. He now opened the wallet, and distributed to her some of his
stock of provisions, pointing out to her with an air of triumph the
fact that they had enough to last them for a week. The lady said but
little and ate but little; the priest, for his part, ate less; so the
breakfast was soon despatched; after which the priest loaded his pipe
and smoked the smoke of peace.

The priest, as he smoked, occasionally threw a furtive glance at the
lady, who now sat absorbed in her own meditations.

"I propose to ask you a few questions," said the priest, "merely for
the sake of conversation, and you needn't answer unless you like. In
the first place, you haven't been long in Spain, I take it?"

"No," said the lady; "only a few days."

"And you are on your way back to England?"

"Yes."

"Have you been travelling alone?"

"At first I had a maid, but she got frightened and left me at
Bayonne. Since then I have had to travel alone."

"You mustn't think me too inquisitive," said the priest. "I merely
wished to know in a general way, and am by no means trying to pry
into your affairs."

He spoke in a careless tone. He was lolling in an easy attitude, and
appeared to be enjoying his smoke very much. After saying these words
he began to fuss with his pipe, which did not draw well, humming to
himself at the same time some absurd verses:

"My love he was a draper's clerk,
He came to see me after dark:
Around the Park we used to stray
To hear the lily-white bandsmen play.

CHORUS OF DRAPER'S CLERKS.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound,
My love lies buried underground!"

A faint smile came over the lady's face as she heard these
nonsensical words from one in the garb of a priest. Still, she
reflected that while it was his voice that was singing, his mind was
no doubt intent on something else.

"By-the-bye," resumed the priest, "as I'm asking questions, I should
like to ask one more. May I?"

"Most certainly," said the lady. "What is it?"

"Well, your name, you know. It's awkward to be as we are. Now, if I
were shot, and wanted you to help me, I shouldn't know what to call
you."

The lady smiled.

"My name is Talbot," said she.

"Ah--Mrs. Talbot," said the priest; "tha