"If you really think that you will be running no risk—"
"No more than I've always been running until three days ago."
"Well, I shall be very glad indeed, and only too much obliged."
"That's an uncommonly sensible decision," said Brooke. "You see," said he, as he unbuttoned the priest's robe, "I've merely been wearing this over my usual dress, and you can do the same." As he spoke he drew off the robe. "You can slip it on," he continued, "as easy as wink, and you'll find it quite large enough every way."
And now Brooke stood divested of the priest's dress, revealing himself clothed in a suit of brown tweed—hunting-coat, knickerbockers, stockings, laced boots, etc. He then took from his coat pocket a travelling-cap with a visor, which he put upon his head.
"You can have the priest's hat too," he added, "and—But no, by Jove! I won't—no, I won't let you have the spectacles. You might wear them in case of need, though, for they're only plain glass. But hang it! I can't—I can't, and you sha'n't. Only fancy putting spectacles on the angel Gabriel!"
Meanwhile Miss Talbot had taken the priest's robe and had thrown it over her own dress. The clerical frock was of cloth, long enough to reach to her feet, and buttoned all the way from her chin down. Around the neck was a cape, which descended half-way to the knees. As she passed her arms through the sleeves she remarked that it would fit her admirably; and then taking the hat, she retired inside the tower, so as to adjust the outlines of her new costume in a more satisfactory manner than was possible before a spectator. At the door of the tower she turned.
"One thing will be against me," said she. "What shall I do about it?"
"What is that?"
"Why, my hair."