"In our family," said Talbot, "there is a cimeter which is an heirloom. It was brought from the East during the Crusades by an ancestor. While there, he was wounded and taken prisoner by a Saracen emir named Hayreddin. This Saracen treated him with chivalrous generosity, and a warm friendship sprung up between them. They exchanged arms, the Saracen taking Talbot's sword, while Talbot took Hayreddin's cimeter. Hayreddin set Talbot free. Afterward he himself was taken prisoner, and Talbot was fortunate enough to procure his freedom. The cimeter is the very one which my ancestor brought back from the Holy Land."
"You and I," said Brooke, in a cheery tone, "will be Talbot and Hayreddin. You are the Christian knight, and I am the heathen. It's a pity we can't exchange arms."
"Yes, we can't very well do that."
"We can exchange something at any rate, comrade," said Brooke. "You have my priest's dress—let me have something of yours by way of exchange."
"But what can I give?" said Talbot.
"Anything, from a needle to a needle-gun. It would be better if portable—an old ribbon, a portable pincushion, a bootlace."
"I have something," said Talbot, suddenly, "if you will take it, Brooke; but perhaps you will think it only a bother."
"No, Talbot, lad, brother—brother in arms, and comrade of mine!—nothing that you can give shall be regarded as other than a comrade's pledge."
Talbot withdrew her hand, which Brooke had been holding all this time.
"Here is something," said she. "It will do better than anything else."