master's manner good enough to deceive for a moment, but which on
closer inspection soon betrays its baldness to a connoisseur."

"I cannot help feeling surprised at this presumption!" exclaimed
Edward, entirely losing his self-command. "In the collection my father
left behind him were none but good and original pictures; for he and
Mr. Walther always passed for the best judges in the town. And what
would you have? In the shop of our celebrated picture-dealer Erich
there hangs the pendant to this Salvator, for which a traveller a few
days ago offered a very large sum. Let them be compared together, and
it will be seen that they are works of the same master, and fellows."

"So!" said the stranger with a drawling tone, "you know then or are
acquainted with that Salvator too? It is to be sure by the same hand as
this, that admits of no doubt. In this town originals by that master
are scarce, and Messrs. Erich and Walther do not possess one; but I am
familiar with the pencil of that great master, and give you my word
that he never touched these pictures, but that they are productions of
a modern who wants to impose upon amateurs by them."

"Your word!" cried Edward colouring deeply; "your word! I should think
that mine might pass here for just as much, and more."

"Certainly not," said the Unknown; "and I have moreover to regret that
you allow your warmth to surprise and betray you so. You are privy then
to the fabrication of this counterfeit, and know the imitator, who is
not an unskilful one?"

"Sir," cried Edward still more vehemently, "you must make me
satisfaction for this affront! These pretensions, these falsehoods
which you vent so boldly, are signs of a detestable character."

Privy-counsellor Walther was in the greatest perplexity that this scene
should take place at his house. He stood examining the picture, and had
already convinced himself that it was a modern but capital imitation of
the celebrated master, such as might deceive even an experienced eye.
It pained him to the heart that young Edward should be entangled in
this bad affair; but both the antagonists were so violently irritated,
that all mediation had become impracticable.

"What is that you are saying, sir?" cried the stranger, himself now
raising his tone; "you are beneath my anger, and I am glad that
accident has led me to this gallery to protect a respectable collector
from imposition."

Edward foamed with rage.

"That was not the inten