To go to her was easy enough; to take the little man was another matter. For Cripps already began to repent of having said anything to a stranger, even in the natural excitement attending the discovery he felt he had made; on Harry suggesting, with much eagerness, that they should go together to see Miss Barnshaw, he at once became very grave again, and resolutely shook his head. Visions of Ogledon—of the body he had assisted to drag from the river—of many other things—floated before him; he decided to hold his tongue. Feeling, however, on second thoughts, that it might be possible that this young and rich lady would be willing to assist so forlorn an outcast, in need of considerable refreshment, he at length consented to accompany the lad to her house; and was hurried along, at a most undignified pace, by Harry, immediately his consent had been obtained. Harry stipulated that he should first see the young lady alone, in order to prepare her for whatever communication Cripps might have to make; and that gentleman, complying with so reasonable a request, took a seat in the hall, while Harry was shown into the presence of Madge, who was alone. There, his courage and resolution began to fail him at once—the more so, that she came eagerly towards him, with a flush on her face, and with her eyes lit up with a faint hope that he had news for her. “What is it, Harry; what have you to tell me?” she asked, quickly. “I want to be fair and just, Miss,” he said; “I want to undo some of the wrong I have done, and have so bitterly repented of.” “What wrong?” she asked. Harry hung his head a little lower. “I sold Master Dandy, Miss; I gave him up to the police, when he might have escaped; I put them on his track.” “You! But I thought——” “Oh yes, Miss,” he said bitterly, glancing up at her—“I know what you thought; I know what every one thought. You believed that I loved him, and was devoted to him. So I was; I would have died for him; I would die now to undo what I did that night. But I was mad, Miss Barnshaw; I felt that he had done me a wrong, and I forgot—forgot all the rest. But now—now I want to put things right—to help him if I can—to prove his innocence.” “Yes—yes—he is innocent, Harry; there can be no question about that,” she said firmly. “I believe that with all my heart.” “And so do I, Miss Barnshaw,” replied the lad. “I feel now that he could never have struck down an unprotected girl—I know that, whatever mystery there may be about it all, the Master Dandy we know could never have done that deed. And there is a man here, Miss, a man I met by accident, who knows him, and who has some strange story to tell about him. I could make nothing of it myself, so I brought him here, in the hope that you would see him, Miss, and try to get the story from him. He has been babbling about twins—and there being two of them (two Dandy Chaters, he seemed to mean, Miss)—and one dead, and the other living.”