shall go out for an
hour. Then you can come and report to me."

Douglas went into the red drawing-room, one of the suite of rooms dating
from the early seventeenth century which occupied the western front of
the house. As he entered, he saw two men at the farther end closely
examining a large Constable, of the latest "palette-knife" period, which
hung to the left of the fire-place. One of the men was short, very
stout, with a fringe of grey hair round his bald head, a pair of very
shrewd and sparkling black eyes, a thick nose, full lips, and a double
chin. He wore spectacles, and was using in addition, a magnifying glass
with which he was examining the picture. Beside him stood a thin,
slightly-bearded man, cadaverous in colour, who, with his hands in his
pockets, was holding forth in a nonchalant, rather patronising voice.

Both of them turned at Douglas's entrance, surveying the son of the
house with an evident and eager curiosity.

"You are, I suppose, Mr. Douglas Falloden?" said the short man, speaking
perfect English, though with a slight German accent. "Your father is not
able to see us?"

"My father will be pleased to see you, when you have been the round of
the pictures," said Douglas stiffly. "He deputes me to show you what
we have."

The short man laughed.

"I expect we know what you have almost as well as you. Let me introduce
Mr. Miklos."

Douglas bowed, so did the younger man. He was, as Douglas already knew,
a Hungarian by birth, formerly an official in one of the museums of
Budapest, then at Munich, and now an "expert" at large, greatly in
demand as the adviser of wealthy men entering the field of art
collecting, and prepared to pay almost anything for success in one of
the most difficult and fascinating _chasses_ that exist.

"I see you have given this room almost entirely to English pictures,"
said Mr. Miklos politely. "A fine Constable!"--he pointed to the picture
they had just been considering--"but not, I think, entirely by
the master?"

[Illustration: _Herr Schwarz was examining a picture with a magnifying
glass when Falloden entered_]

"My great-grandfather bought it from Constable himself," said
Douglas. "It has never been disputed by any one."

Mr. Miklos did not reply, but he shook his head with a slight smile, and
walked away towards a Turner, a fine landscape of the middle period,
hanging close to the Constable. He peered into it short-sightedly, with
his strong glasses.

"A