“To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. "I am only fit for such as him. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. “After all, there are great things left in the world for you. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean.
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