"Craik," said she, and the deathless yearning of love spoke in her voice at last, "there is but one thing to do. Expiate your guilt by acknowledging it. Save the innocent from unmerited suspicion, and trust to the mercy of God. It is the only advice I can give you. I know no other road to peace. If I did----" She stopped, choked by the terror of her own thoughts. "Craik," she murmured, at last, "on the day I hear of your having made this confession, I vow to take an oath of celibacy for life. It is the only recompense I can offer for the misery and sin into which our mutual mad ambitions have plunged you." And subduing with a look of inexpressible anguish an evident longing to lay her hand in final caress upon that bended head, she gave him one parting look, and then, with a quick shudder, hurried away, and buried herself amid the darkness of the wet and shivering woods. XVII. A SURPRISE. Season your admiration for awhile.--HAMLET. WHEN all was still again, Mr. Byrd advanced from his place of concealment, and softly entered the hut. Its solitary occupant sat as before, with his head bent down upon his clasped hands. But at the first sound of Mr. Byrd's approach he rose and turned. The shock of the discovery which followed sent the detective reeling back against the door. The person who faced him with such quiet assurance was _not_ Craik Mansell. XVIII. A BRACE OF DETECTIVES. Hath this fellow no feeling of his business?--HAMLET. No action, whether foul or fair, Is ever done, but it leaves somewhere A record. --LONGFELLOW. "SO there are two of us! I thought as much when I first set eyes upon your face in Buffalo!" This exclamation, uttered in a dry and musing tone, woke Mr. Byrd from the stupor into which this astonishing discovery had thrown him. Advancing upon the stranger, who in size, shape, and coloring was almost the _fac-simile_ of the person he had so successfully represented, Mr. Byrd looked him scrutinizingly over. The man bore the ordeal with equanimity; he even smiled. "You don't recognize me, I see." Mr. Byrd at once recoiled. "Ah!" cried he, "you are that Jack-in-the-box, Brown!" "_Alias_ Frank Hickory, at your service." This name, so unexpected, called up a flush of mingled surprise and indignation to Mr. Byrd's cheek. "I thought----" he began. "Don't think," interrupted the other, who, when excited, affected laconicism, "know." Then, with affability, proceeded, "You are the gentleman----" he paid that much deference to Mr. Byrd's air and manner, "who I was told might lend me a helping hand in this Clemmens affair. I didn't recognize you before, sir. Wouldn't have stood in your way if I had. Though, to be sure, I did want to see this matter through myself. I thought I had the right. And I've done it, too, as you must acknowledge, if you have been present in this terrible place very long."