clear tone, yet not in the least like Madaline's voice.

"I want," said Lord Arleigh, steadily, "to be your friend, if you will
let me."

"My friend!" a cynical smile curled the handsome lips. "Well, that is
indeed a novelty. I should like to ask, if it would not seem rude, what
kind of a friend can a gentleman like you be to me?"

"You will soon find out," said Lord Arleigh.

"I have never known a friendship between a rich man and a ne'er-do-well
like myself which did not end in harm for the poorer man. You seek us
only when you want us--and then it is for no good."

"I should not be very likely to seek you from any motive but the desire
to help you," observed Lord Arleigh.

"It is not quite clear to me how I am to be helped," returned the
convict with a cynical smile; "but if you can do anything to get me out
of this wretched place, please do."

"I want you to answer me a few questions," said Lord Arleigh--"and very
much depends on them. To begin, tell me, were you innocent or guilty of
the crime for which you are suffering? Is your punishment deserved or
not?"

"Well," replied Henry Dornham, with a sullen frown, "I can just say
this--it is well there are strong bars between us; if there were not you
would not live to ask such another question."

"Will you answer me?" said Lord Arleigh, gently.

"No, I will not--why should I? You belong to a class I hate and
detest--a class of tyrants and oppressors."

"Why should you? I will tell you in a few words. I am interested in the
fate of your wife and daughter."

"My what?" cried the convict, with a look of wonder.

"Your wife and daughter," said Lord Arleigh.

"My daughter!" exclaimed the man. "Good Heaven! Oh, I see! Well, go on.
You are interested in my wife and daughter--what else?"

"There is one thing I can do which would not only be of material benefit
to them, but would make your daughter very happy. It cannot be done
unless we can prove your innocence."

"Poor little Madaline," said the convict, quietly--"poor, pretty little
girl!"

Lord Arleigh's whole soul revolted on hearing this man speak so of his
fair, young wife. That this man, with heavy iron bars separating him, as
though he were a wild animal, from the rest of the world, should call
his wife "poor, pretty little Madaline."

"I would give," said Lord Arleigh, "a great deal to find that your
conviction had been a mistake. I know circumstances of that kind will
and do happen. Tell me ho