“FIVE thousand guineas, sir, I have just refused,” said Uncle
Si, “for this little thing, as sure as God’s in the sky.”
So shocked was June by this adding of blasphemy to his other crimes,
that she shivered audibly. Miss Babraham cocked up her head at the
sound. “You’ve a cat somewhere, haven’t you?” she said, looking around
the shop.
“No, madam,” said Uncle Si shortly. So like a woman to butt in at such
a moment with such a remark!
“In my humble opinion,” said Sir Arthur, gazing solemnly at the
picture, “this is a finer example of Van Roon than the one--and the
only one!--we have in the National Gallery.”
“There, sir, I am with you,” said S. Gedge Antiques with unction.
“One would like to know its history.”
The old man became a sphinx once more. “I can only tell you, sir, I
didn’t buy it as a Van Roon,” he said cautiously.
“Really!” Sir Arthur grew more intrigued than ever. “Well, Mr. Gedge,
whatever you bought it as, I think there can be no doubt that you’ve
made a lucky purchase.”
“I am wondering, sir,” said S. Gedge Antiques, “whether the National
Gallery would care to acquire this fine example?” It was a sudden
inspiration, but those measured tones and calculating eyes gave no
indication of the fact.
Sir Arthur Babraham, in his own capacity of a National Gallery trustee,
began sensibly to moderate his transports. “More unlikely things, Mr.
Gedge,” at last he brought himself reluctantly to say. “Van Roons are
very scarce, and if this one is all that he appears to be at a first
glance, it will be a pity to let him leave the country.”
Piously, S. Gedge Antiques thought so, too.
Sir Arthur turned to the picture again. Like M. Duponnet he seemed to
have difficulty in keeping his expert gaze off that fascinating canvas.
“Reminds one,” he said, “of that choice thing that was stolen from
the Louvre about twenty-five years ago. The size is similar and, as I
remember it, the whole composition is in some ways identical.”
The old man was startled, but not visibly. “Was there one stolen from
the Loov, sir?” he said, with a polite air of asking for information.
“Why, yes! Don’t you remember? There was a great stir at the time. It
was cut out of its frame. The French Government offered a big reward,
but the work has never been recovered.”
“Indeed, sir.” All at once the Old Crocodile began to gambol a little.
“Let’s hope this ain’t the boy.” He gave a mild snigger. But as his
next words proved there was more in that snigger than met the ear. “In
the event of this little jool turning out to be stolen property, what,
sir, do you suppose would be the position of the present owner?”
“Difficult to say, Mr. Gedge.”
“He’d receive compensation, wouldn’t he?”
“Substantial compensation one would think--if he was able to prove his
title.”
If he was able to prove his title! Those blunt little words had a
sinister sound for S. Gedge Antiques, but he did not turn a hair. “No
difficulty about that, sir,” he said, robustly.
“Quite!” Evidently Sir Arthur had no doubt upon the point. “But as the
question might arise it may be well to have it settled before disposing
of the picture.”
S. Gedge agreed.
“And in any case, before parting with it,” said Sir Arthur, “it will be
wise, I think, to take advice.”
Again S. Gedge agreed. “You mean, sir, it may be very valuable indeed?”
“Yes, I quite think it may be. At a cursory glance it has the look of a
fine example of a great master. I remember at the time that ‘L’Automne’
disappeared from the Louvre, it was said to be worth at least two
hundred and fifty thousand francs, and since then Van Roons have more
than doubled in price.”
“In that case, sir”--there was a tremor of real emotion in the voice of
the old dealer--“this be-yew-ti-ful thing ought not to be allowed to
leave the country.”
“Unfortunately the French authorities may compel it to do so.” And the
connoisseur sighed as he fingered the canvas lovingly.
Affirmed S. Gedge Antiques: “I don’t believe, sir, for a moment that it
is ‘L’Automne.’”
“One wouldn’t like to say it is,” said the cautious Sir Arthur. “And
one wouldn’t like to say it isn’t.”
“It’ll be up to the Loov to prove it, anyhow.”
“Quite. In the meantime, before you let it go, I hope you’ll give me
an opportunity of looking at it again.”
This modest request caused the old man to rub his nose. He was not in
a position, he said mysteriously, to give a promise, but certainly he
would do his best to meet the wishes of Sir Arthur.
“Thank you, Mr. Gedge. If this picture is not claimed by other people,
and of course one doesn’t for a moment suggest that it will be, steps
might be taken to keep it here. We are so poor in Van Roons--there is
only one, I believe--to our shame!--in this country at the present
time--that we can’t afford to let a thing like this slip through our
fingers. Therefore, as I say, before you decide to sell I hope you’ll
take advice.”
S. Gedge Antiques gravely thanked Sir Arthur Babraham. He would keep
those wise words in mind. And in the meantime he would pack _That_
in a crate--he pointed a finger straight at June’s eyes--and send it to
Homefield.----
“----near Byfleet, Surrey, I think you said, sir?”