nks."

"Not 'Mrs.'" said the lady, again smiling; "Miss Talbot. My full name
is Sydney Talbot."

"Sydney Talbot," repeated the priest. "Thanks. That's all. Everything
else is told. I may add, however, in an incidental way, that my name
is Brooke."

"Father Brooke?" said the lady, interrogatively, with a furtive smile
which was perhaps occasioned by the incongruity between the priest's
sacred garb and somewhat eccentric manner.

To this question the reply was not particularly appropriate. The
priest, or Brooke, as he may now be called, looked with a smile of
quiet drollery at Miss Talbot, and then, in a strange whining voice,
began to drone out some verses of a song:

"Old Bluebeard was a warrior bold,
He kept his wives in a great stronghold.
One--Two--Three--Four--Five--Six--Seven--
They all of them died and went to Heaven.
Old B. fell into a dismal state,
And went and married Number Eight."

"Well," he resumed, in his natural voice, "Father Brooke isn't bad;
Brother Brooke, however, would be better; but, on the whole, simple
'Brooke' is the best of all."

"Well, now, Mr. Brooke," asked the lady, anxiously, "what are our
prospects? Have you found out anything?"

"Oh yes; I've had a conversation with an amiable Carlist who was on
the point of blowing my brains out, and was only prevented by the
unparalleled 'cheek' of the unworthy being who now addresses you."

"Did you really incur such danger?" asked Miss Talbot, in unfeigned
anxiety.

"Danger? Oh, a trifle; but a miss is as good as a mile. I'm here now,
safe and sound, but for two or three seconds you ran a great risk of
making your journey alone. However, I made friends with them, and was
entertained royally. Now, as to escape. I'm sorry to say that the
country is swarming everywhere with these noble Carlists; that there
is no such thing as law; that there are no magistrates, no police, no
post-office, no telegraph, no railway trains, no newspapers, and no
taxes except of an irregular kind."

"That is very bad," said Miss Talbot, slowly, and in a low, anxious
voice.

"Oh yes," said Brooke, "but it's just as I feared.

"'There was an old man with a beard,'

"you know,

"'Who said, "It is just as I feared--
Two owls and a wren
And a cock and a hen
Have all built their nests in my beard."'

"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 bein