, Lucian Davlin, this is
well; this nerves me for the worst! I shall not falter now. This is
the first link in the chain that shall yet make your life a burden."

She crossed the room and touched the bell.

"Now for the first real step," said Madeline, grimly.

The door opened and the dark face of Henry appeared, bowing on the
threshold.

"Come in, Henry, and close the door," said Madeline, pleasantly. "I
want you to do me a favor, if you will."

Henry came in, and stood waiting her order.

"Will you carry a note for me, Henry, and bring me back an answer? I
want _you_ to take it, because I feel as if I could trust you. You
look like one who would be faithful to those who were kind to you."

"Thank you, lady; indeed I would," said the man, in grateful tones.

Madeline was quick to see the advantage to be gained by possessing the
regard and confidence of this man, who must, necessarily, know so much
that it was desirable to learn of the life and habits of him, between
whom and herself must be waged a war to the very death.

She reasoned rapidly, and as rapidly arrived at her conclusions. The
first of those was, that Lucian Davlin, by his intolerance and
unkindness, had fitted a tool to her hand, and she, therefore, as a
preliminary step, must propitiate and win the confidence of this same
tool left by his master within her reach.

"And will you carry my letter, Henry, and return with an answer as
soon as you can? You will find the person at this hour without any
trouble."

"Master ordered me to attend to your wants," replied the man, in a
somewhat surly tone.

She understood this somber inflection, and said: "He 'ordered' you?
Yes, I see; is your master always as hard to please as to-day, Henry?
He certainly was a little unkind."

"He's always the same, madame," said the man, gloomily. Her words
brought vividly before his mind's eye the many instances of his
master's unkindness.

"I'm sorry he is not kind to you," said the girl, hypocritically. "And
I don't want you to carry this letter because _he_ ordered you. I want
you to do it to oblige _me_, Henry, and it will make me always your
friend."

Ah, Henry, one resentful gleam from your eyes, as you stood behind the
chair of your tyrant, has given to this slight girl the clue by which
to sway you to her will. She was smiling upon him, and the man
replied, in gratitude:

"I'll do anything for you, madame."

"Thank you, Henry. I was sure I could trust