"It may be the old Knollys madness.

If so, why should I struggle against it?
It may be that I am mad.

But I venture to say to you that Mr.Law is not born to die in Newgate yards.
My life! sir, if I love him, who should say me nay?
Now, say to yourself, and to your friends--to all London, if you like, since you have touched me to this point--that Catharine Knollys is friend to Mr.
Law, and believes in him, and declares that he shall be freed from his prison, and that within short space! Say that, Sir Arthur; tell them that! And if they argue somewhat from it, why, let them reason it as best they may." The young man stood, his lips close together, his head still turned away.

The girl continued with growing energy.
"I have sent for you to tell you that Mr.Law's life has a value in my eyes.

And now, I say to you, Sir Arthur, that you must aid me in his escape." A beautiful picture she made, tearful, pleading, a lock of her soft red-brown hair falling unnoticed across her tear-wet cheek.