been pawned. And Max was accused of pawning them, to get money to pay
gambling debts."

"How could they accuse him of that?"

"He really had pawned them, at her request. She wanted money, and would
not listen to his objections to getting it in that way. He had pawned
them on the day of the murder, and still had the tickets, which he had
forgotten to enclose with the money for the jewels, when he sent it to
Mademoiselle Devereux. She had asked him to pawn the things in his name,
so that hers could be protected, and, of course, that went dreadfully
against Max. He couldn't possibly prove, when the woman was dead, that he
had pawned the jewels for her, because the money he had raised had
disappeared. He would have taken it to her himself, but on returning to
his own flat from the pawnbroker's he received a strange letter saying
that she hated him, and never wished to see him again. It was all quite
sudden, and Max was angry. Still, he might have gone, insisting that she
should tell him what she meant by such a letter, but he had arranged a
hurried journey to England. They arrested him on the way. He was going
there in the hope of borrowing some money from his godfather, a cousin of
ours, who had told Max that if at any time he should be in difficulties
he must apply to him. But what proof had Max of his own intentions? Every
one thought that he was escaping to England to hide himself, after having
committed a cowardly murder.

"There were other bits of evidence against him, too; for instance, the
revolver with which the woman was shot was his, with a silver monogram on
it. Everybody--even the best of his friends--believed him guilty. And
father--poor father!--but I can't talk about that part. It is too cruel.
Oh, you are pale, and changed! I knew it would be so. You are like the
rest. But how could I expect anything else when you have heard such a
story? Everything against him--nothing in his favour. Even Max himself
was dazed. Over and over again he said that he had no explanation to give
of the mystery."

"There is only one explanation, since he was innocent--and I'm as sure of
that as before," said Virginia firmly. "It was a diabolically clever
plot, planned with fiendish ingenuity, to ruin your brother--all your
family, perhaps."

"Hundreds of times I have thought of that," sighed Madeleine Dalahaide.
"Many, many times I spoke of it to the man who defended Max at his trial.
But there was no one it would be reason