The face of the young woman flushed in spite of herself, as Pembroke strode closer and gazed at her with sternness.
"Lady Catharine," said he, slowly, "I am a friend of your family. Perhaps now I may be of aid to you. Prove me, and at the last, ask who was indeed your friend."
"We have had misfortunes, we of the family of the Knollys," said Lady Catharine. "This is, perhaps, but the fate of the house of Knollys. It is my fate."
"Your fate!" said Sir Arthur, slowly. "Your fate! Lady Catharine, I thank you. It is at least as well to know the truth."
"Pick out the truth, then, Sir Arthur, as you like it. I am not on the witness stand before you, and you are not my judge. There has been forsworn testimony enough already in this town. Were it not for that, Mr. Law would at this moment be free as you or I."
Sir Arthur struck his hands together in despair, and turning away, strode down the room.
"Oh, I see it all well enough," cried he. "You are mad as any who have hitherto had dealings with this madman from the North."
The girl rose to her full height and stood before him.
"It may be I am mad," said she. "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.