'We only know through Ramage,' I replied. 'Is that enough to prove the conspiracy? I know what those two men are who are the leading witnesses--how can I prove it? I know that they were suborned by Probus and that they are in the power of Merridew. How can I prove it? I know that Probus has talked to my cousin about my possible death, but what does that prove? I know that he will benefit by my death to the amount of many thousands, but how can I prove it? My mouth will be closed. Where are my witnesses?' 'You can't prove anything, Will. And therefore you had better not try.' 'Jenny.' The tears came to my unmanly eyes. 'Leave me. Go, break the news to Alice, and prepare her mind to see me die.' 'I will break the news to Alice, but I will not prepare her mind to see you die. For, my dear cousin, you shall not die.' She spoke with assurance. She was standing up and she brought her hand down upon the table with a slap which with her flashing eyes and coloured cheek inspired confidence for the moment. 'You shall not die by the conspiracy of these villains.' 'How to prevent them?' 'It would be easy if their friends would bear evidence against them. But they will not. They will sit in the Court and admire the tragic perjuries of the witnesses. There is one rule among my people which is never broken; no one must peach on his brother. Shall dog bite dog? If that rule is broken it is never forgiven--never--so long as the offender lives.' 'Then, what can we do?' 'The short way would be to buy them. But in this respect they cannot be bought. They will rob or murder or perjure themselves with cheerfulness, but they will not peach on their brother. Money will not tempt them. Jealousy might, but there are no women in this case. Revenge might, but there is here no private quarrel. Besides, they are all in the hands of the man Merridew. To thwart him would bring certain destruction on their heads. And if there was any other reason, they are naturally anxious to avoid a Court of Justice. They would rather see their own children hanged than go into a court to give evidence, true or false.' 'Then I must suffer, Jenny.' 'Nay, Will, I said not so much--I was only putting the case before myself. I see many difficulties but there is always a way out--always an end.' 'Always an end.' I repeated. 'Oh! Jenny. What an end!' A Newgate fit was on me; that is, a fit of despondency which is almost despair. All the inmates of Newgate know what it means; the rattling of the irons; the recollection of the trial to come; a word that jars; and the Newgate shuddering seizes a man and shakes him up and down till it is spent. Jenny made me drink a glass of wine. The fit passed away. 'I feel,' I said at last, 'as if the rope was already round my neck. My poor Alice! My poor child! Thou wilt be the son of a highwayman and a Tyburn bird. To the third and fourth generation ...'