CHAPTER XXVI.
THE SECRET OUT.
"Celeste Seldon! It was her name—his daughter's name, and yet the letter said that she was dead! Is this a coincidence, or is she alive, and is this young girl the child of Andrew Seldon the real?"
So mused Andrew Seldon the impersonator, as he crouched among the rocks, his eyes riveted upon the girl not fifty feet from him, and who so boldly faced the outlaw officer who had dared breathe to her a word of love.
The outlaw stood abashed at the manner in which his avowal of love had been received. There was no anger in his look, and he seemed hurt rather than offended.
After Celeste Seldon's indignant response to him he half-turned away, as though to retire in silence, but then reconsidered his determination and said in a low tone full of feeling:
"Pardon me, for I did wrong to think for a moment that an angel would look kindly upon a devil. I love you, and I could not but tell you of it, for you had decided me as to my own course, you had made me see my evil life as it is in all its enormity, and decide to make another struggle to go back to honor and truth."
"This, at least, you deserve credit for, and I trust you may carry out your resolve, for in that you shall have my full sympathy."
"Thank you, Miss Seldon; but I have something more to say to you."
"Well, sir?"