Harry expressing his willingness to do so, the two went out of the inn together, and set off. For a long time, they walked in silence; but the Doctor’s mind was busy. Perhaps the mere fact of coming again in daylight among old well-remembered scenes jogged that blurred and faded thing, his memory; perhaps the sight, in the distance, of the towers of Chater Hall helped it still more. Whatever it may have been, he suddenly stopped in the road, just before they came to the village and clapped his hands together, with a cry; burst into a shriek of laughter; and began to dance and caper wildly about in the dust. Harry fully convinced, that the man had suddenly gone mad, backed away from him and stood ready to defend himself. “Ho—ho—ho—!” screamed the Doctor, slapping his thighs, punching himself in the ribs, and still dancing as wildly as ever—“here’s a joke! Here’s a business! Here’s a topsy-turvy devilish upside-down affair! Ho—ho—ho—! It’s the other child; it’s the twin that was smuggled away!” Harry, feeling at last that the man was serious, and that his disjointed remarks had a meaning which the other could not fathom, sprang at him, shook him, and demanded to know what he meant. “Oh, you idiots!—you blunderers!” Cripps was still laughing boisterously. “Don’t you see that there are two of them? One dead—t’other living!” Further than that, he would say nothing; he still continued to dance about in the dust, and to clap his hands, and to shriek with laughter, and to shout, over and over again, that one was dead and t’other living. Harry, filled with repentance for the trouble he had brought upon his master, and keenly anxious to do all in his power to undo the wrong he felt he had committed, began to feel that this man might know something concerning Dandy Chater which would be useful—that he might be able, in some strange way, to save the man against whom that fearful charge of murder had been made. Looking at him, Harry began to wonder what to do; how to force from this man the information he probably held. Feeling his own weakness in the matter, he cast about in his mind to discover to whom he might turn for help. He must find, in the first place, a friend of the man he desired to assist—some one about whose loyalty to Dandy Chater there could be no faintest doubt. The name of one person after another occurred to him—only to be immediately rejected, as an avowed believer in his guilt, or as too weak to be of use. Suddenly there came the thought of Miss Barnshaw—the woman who loved Dandy Chater—who was rich, and had powerful friends; he decided to go to her at once, and to take Cripps with him.