"I'm afraid that's difficult," said Naball reflectively; "things look black against him." "Of course they do," said Villiers coarsely. "Who knows he is innocent?" Eugénie stepped in front of the ruffian, and raised her hand to the ceiling. "There is One who knows he is innocent--God." CHAPTER XXV. THE EVIDENCE OF A BANK-NOTE. All this time while his friends were trying to prove his innocence, Keith was mewed up in prison, having now been there a week. The disgrace of being arrested on such a charge had aged him considerably, and his face had changed from a healthy bronzed colour to a waxen paleness, while the circles under his eyes, and the deep lines furrowing his brow, showed how deeply he was affected by the position in which he found himself. He steadily denied that he committed the crime imputed to him, and regarding the knife found by Villiers, could only say that, after putting it in his pocket at the club, he thought no more of it till next morning, when, having occasion to use it, he found it had disappeared. Some time after the interview with Kitty, when she told how Keith had stolen the diamonds, Eugénie was admitted to the presence of her unfortunate lover. She had tried to see him before, but had always been refused; so when she did gain her object at last, and they stood face to face, both were so overcome with emotion that they could hardly speak. Keith held out his arms to her, with a smile on his wan face, and with an inarticulate cry she flung herself on his breast, weeping bitterly. "Don't cry, dear," he said soothingly, making her sit down on the bed. "There! there!" and he quieted her as if she had been a little child. "I can't help it," she said, drying her eyes; "it seems so terrible to see you here." "No doubt," replied Keith quietly; "but I know I am innocent, and that robs the disgrace of a good deal of its sting." "I know you are innocent," answered Eugénie, "but how to prove it; I thought things would have turned out all right; but when we saw Kitty Marchurst--" "She said I had stolen her diamonds," finished Stewart, with a satirical laugh. "I've no doubt she fully believes it, and I thank her for having held her tongue so long; but she was never more mistaken in her life. I did put Meg back to bed, but I came down the stairs again, and did not leave the room by the window." "But how is it the child saw you? Of course, you know--" "I know everything. Yes. Naball told me all. Meg says she saw a man she thought was me getting out of the window. I've no doubt she did see a man, but not me." "But why should she think it you?" asked Eugénie, puzzled.