To Chatham Lord Arleigh resolved to go. For one in his position there would not be much difficulty in obtaining an interview with the convict. And before long[[7]] Lord Arleigh, one of the proudest men in England, and Henry Dornham, poacher and thief, stood face to face.
Lord Arleigh's first feeling was one of great surprise--Henry Dornham was so different from what he had expected to find him; he had not thought that he would be fair like Madaline, but he was unprepared for the dark, swarthy, gypsy-like type of the man before him.
The two looked steadily at each other; the poacher did not seem in the least to stand in awe of his visitor. Lord Arleigh tried to read the secret of the man's guilt or innocence in his face. Henry Dornham returned the gaze fearlessly.
"What do you want with me?" he asked. "You are what we call a swell. I know by the look of you. What do you want with me?"
The voice, like the face, was peculiar, not unpleasant--deep, rich, with a 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."