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Page 14
"I was lunching at the Arlington, with the Honorable Bertie--By the
way, he took the hook," Nevill replied, in a calmer tone, "and when I
came out I bought this on the street. But read for yourself."
He opened the newspaper, folded it twice, and tossed it down on Stephen
Foster's desk.
CHAPTER V.
A MYSTERIOUS DISCUSSION.
The paragraph in the Westminster _Budget_ to which Victor Nevill
referred was headed in large type, and ran as follows:
"This morning, at his palatial residence in Amsterdam, commenced the
sale of the gallery of valuable paintings collected by the late Mr.
Martin Von Whele, who died while on a visit to his coffee estate in
Java. He left everything to his son, with the exception of the pictures,
which, by the terms of his will, were to be disposed of in order to
found a hospital in his native town. Mr. Von Whele was a keen and
discriminating patron of art, a lover of both the ancient and the
modern, and his vast wealth permitted him to indulge freely in his
hobby. His collection was well known by repute throughout the civilized
world. But the trustees of the estate seem to have committed a grave
blunder--which will undoubtedly cause much complaint--in waiting until
almost the last moment to announce the sale. But few bidders were
present, and these had things pretty much their own way, apparently
owing to the gross ignorance of the auctioneer. The gem of the gallery,
the famous Rembrandt found and purchased in Paris some years ago by Mr.
Von Whele, was knocked down for the ridiculous sum of �2,400. The lucky
purchaser was Mr. Charles Drummond, of the firm of Lamb and Drummond,
Pall Mall."
A remark that would not look well in print escaped Stephen Foster's lips
as he threw the paper on his desk.
"A blunder?" he cried. "It was criminal! A rascally conspiracy, with
Drummond at the bottom of it--British cunning against Dutch stupidity! I
seldom miss anything in the papers, Nevill, and yet I never heard of Von
Whele's death. I didn't get a hint of the sale."
"Nor I," replied Nevill. "It's a queer business. I thought the paragraph
would interest you. The sale continues--do you think of running over to
Amsterdam?"
"No; I shan't go. It's too late. By to-morrow a lot of dealers will have
men on the spot, and the rest of the pictures will likely fetch full
value. But �2,400 for the Rembrandt! Why, it's worth five times as much
if it's worth a penny! There's a profit for you, Nevill. And I always
coveted that picture. I had a sort of a hope that it would drop into my
hands some day. I believe I spoke to you about it."
"You did," assented Nevill, "and I remembered that at once when I read
of the sale. But I had another reason--one of my own--for calling your
attention to the matter."
Stephen Foster apparently did not hear the latter remark.
"I saw the Rembrandt when I was in Amsterdam, two years ago," he said
bitterly. "It was a splendid canvas--the colors were almost as fresh and
bright as the day they were laid on. And as a character study it was a
masterpiece second to none, and in my estimation superior to his
'Gilder,' which is now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. It
represented a Pole or a Russian, with a face of intense ferocity. His
rank was shown by his rich cloak, the decorations on his furred hat, and
by the gold-beaded mace held in his hand. Von Whele declared that the
subject was John the Third, of Poland; but that was mere conjecture. And
now Drummond has the picture, and it will soon be drawing crowds around
the firm's window, I dare say. What a prize I have let slip through my
fingers!"
"I want to ask you a question," Nevill started abruptly. "Suppose this
Rembrandt, or any other painting of value and renown, should be stolen
from a big dealer's shop. How could the thief dispose of it?"
"He would have little or no chance of doing so at once," was the reply,
"unless he found some unscrupulous collector who was willing to buy it
and hide it away. But in the course of a few years, when the affair had
blown over, the picture could be sold for its full value, without any
risk to the seller, if he was a smart man."
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