OF THE PICTURE

After the first passionate outburst of scorn Lord Littimer looked at his
visitor quietly. There was something almost amusing in the idea that Bell
should attempt such a trick upon him. And the listener was thoroughly
enjoying the scene now. There was quite an element of the farcical about
it. In the brilliant light she could see Littimer's dark, bitter face and
the helpless amazement on the strong features of Hatherly Bell. And,
meanwhile, the man who had brought the impossible situation about was
calmly sleeping after his strenuous exertions.

Chris smiled to herself as she thought out her brilliant _coup_. It
looked to her nothing less than a stroke of genius, two strokes, in fact,
as will be seen presently. Before many hours were over Henson's position
in the house would be seriously weakened. He had done a clever thing, but
Chris saw her way to a cleverer one still.

Meanwhile the two men were regarding one another suspiciously. On a round
Chippendale table the offending Rembrandt lay between them.

"I confess," Bell said, at length, "I confess that I am utterly taken by
surprise. And yet I need not be so astonished when I come to think of the
amazing cunning and audacity of my antagonist. He has more foresight than
myself. Lord Littimer, will you be so kind as to repeat your last
observation over again?"

"I will emphasize it, if you like?" Littimer replied. "For some deep
purpose of your own, you desired to make friends with me again. You tell
me you are in a position to clear your character. Very foolishly I
consent to see you. You come here with a roll of paper in your possession
purporting to be a second copy of my famous print. All the time you knew
it to be mine--mine, stolen an hour or two ago and passed instantly to
you. Could audacity go farther? And then you ask me to believe that you
came down from town with a second engraving in your possession."

"As I hope to be saved, I swear it!" Bell cried.

"Of course you do. A man with your temerity would swear anything.
Credulous as I may be, I am not credulous enough to believe that _my_
picture would be stolen again at the very time that you found _yours_."

"Abstracted by my enemy on purpose to land me in this mess."

"Ridiculous," Littimer cried. "Pshaw, I am a fool to stand here arguing;
I am a fool to let you stay in the house. Why, I don't believe you could
bring a solitary witness to prove that yonder picture was yours."

"You