or even earlier. The
Kûren treasure-chest in the Hague Collection has points of
similarity, but the workmanship of this specimen is infinitely finer."
"In a word, gentlemen," snapped Nayland Smith, rising from the
arm-chair in which he had been sitting, and beginning restlessly to
pace the room, "in a word, you would be prepared to make me a
substantial offer for this box?"
Mr. Meyerstein, his shrewd eyes twinkling behind the pebbles of his
pince-nez, straightened himself slowly, turned in the ponderous manner
of a fat man, and readjusted the pince-nez upon his nose. He cleared
his throat.
"I have not yet seen the interior of the box, Mr. Smith," he said.
Smith paused in his perambulation of the carpet and stared hard at
the celebrated art dealer.
"Unfortunately," he replied, "the key is missing."
"Ah!" cried the assistant, Lewison, excitedly, "you are mistaken, sir!
Coffers of this description and workmanship are nearly always
complicated conjuring tricks; they rarely open by any such rational
means as lock and key. For instance, the Kûren treasure-chest to
which I referred, opens by an intricate process involving the pressing
of certain knobs in the design, and the turning of others."
"It was ultimately opened," said Mr. Meyerstein, with a faint note of
professional envy in his voice, "by one of Christie's experts."
"Does my memory mislead me," I interrupted, "or was it not regarding
the possession of the chest to which you refer, that the celebrated
case of 'Hague versus Jacobs' arose?"
"You are quite right, Dr. Petrie," said Meyerstein, turning to me.
"The original owner, a member of the Younghusband Expedition, had been
unable to open the chest. When opened at Christie's it proved to
contain jewels and other valuables. It was a curious case, wasn't it,
Lewison?" turning to his clerk.
"Very," agreed the other absently; then—"Have you endeavored to open
this box, Mr. Smith?"
Nayland Smith shook his head grimly.
"From its weight," said Meyerstein, "I am inclined to think that the
contents might prove of interest. With your permission I will
endeavor to open it."
Nayland Smith, tugging reflectively at the lobe of his left ear, stood
looking at the expert. Then—
"I do not care to attempt it at present," he said.
Meyerstein and his clerk stared at the speaker in surprise.
"But you would be mad," cried the former, "if you accepted an offer for
the box, whilst ignorant of the nature of its contents."
"But I have invited no offer," said Smith. "I do not propose to sell."
Meyerstein adjusted his pince-nez again.
"I am a business man," he said, "and I will make a business proposal:
A hundred guineas for the box, cash down, and our commission to be ten
per cent on the proceeds of the contents. You must remember," raising
a fat forefinger to check Smith, who was about to interrupt him, "that
it may be necessary to force the box in order to open it, thereby
decreasing its market value and making it a bad bargain at a hundred
guineas."
Nayland Smith met my gaze across the room; again a slight smile
crossed the lean, tanned face.
"I can only reply, Mr. Meyerstein," he said, "in this way: if I desire
to place the box on the market, you shall have first refusal, and the
same applies to the contents, if any. For the moment if you will send
me a note of your fee, I shall be obliged." He raised his hand with a
conclusive gesture. "I am not prepared to discuss the question of sale
any further at present, Mr. Meyerstein."
At that the dealer bowed, took up his hat from the table, and prepared
to depart. Lewison opened the door and stood aside.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Meyerstein.
As Lewison was about to follow him—
"Since you do not intend to open the box," he said, turning, his hand
upon the door knob, "have you any idea of its contents?"
"None," replied Smith; "but with my present inadequate knowledge of
its history, I do not care to open it."
Lewison smiled skeptically.
"Probably you know best," he
Kûren treasure-chest in the Hague Collection has points of
similarity, but the workmanship of this specimen is infinitely finer."
"In a word, gentlemen," snapped Nayland Smith, rising from the
arm-chair in which he had been sitting, and beginning restlessly to
pace the room, "in a word, you would be prepared to make me a
substantial offer for this box?"
Mr. Meyerstein, his shrewd eyes twinkling behind the pebbles of his
pince-nez, straightened himself slowly, turned in the ponderous manner
of a fat man, and readjusted the pince-nez upon his nose. He cleared
his throat.
"I have not yet seen the interior of the box, Mr. Smith," he said.
Smith paused in his perambulation of the carpet and stared hard at
the celebrated art dealer.
"Unfortunately," he replied, "the key is missing."
"Ah!" cried the assistant, Lewison, excitedly, "you are mistaken, sir!
Coffers of this description and workmanship are nearly always
complicated conjuring tricks; they rarely open by any such rational
means as lock and key. For instance, the Kûren treasure-chest to
which I referred, opens by an intricate process involving the pressing
of certain knobs in the design, and the turning of others."
"It was ultimately opened," said Mr. Meyerstein, with a faint note of
professional envy in his voice, "by one of Christie's experts."
"Does my memory mislead me," I interrupted, "or was it not regarding
the possession of the chest to which you refer, that the celebrated
case of 'Hague versus Jacobs' arose?"
"You are quite right, Dr. Petrie," said Meyerstein, turning to me.
"The original owner, a member of the Younghusband Expedition, had been
unable to open the chest. When opened at Christie's it proved to
contain jewels and other valuables. It was a curious case, wasn't it,
Lewison?" turning to his clerk.
"Very," agreed the other absently; then—"Have you endeavored to open
this box, Mr. Smith?"
Nayland Smith shook his head grimly.
"From its weight," said Meyerstein, "I am inclined to think that the
contents might prove of interest. With your permission I will
endeavor to open it."
Nayland Smith, tugging reflectively at the lobe of his left ear, stood
looking at the expert. Then—
"I do not care to attempt it at present," he said.
Meyerstein and his clerk stared at the speaker in surprise.
"But you would be mad," cried the former, "if you accepted an offer for
the box, whilst ignorant of the nature of its contents."
"But I have invited no offer," said Smith. "I do not propose to sell."
Meyerstein adjusted his pince-nez again.
"I am a business man," he said, "and I will make a business proposal:
A hundred guineas for the box, cash down, and our commission to be ten
per cent on the proceeds of the contents. You must remember," raising
a fat forefinger to check Smith, who was about to interrupt him, "that
it may be necessary to force the box in order to open it, thereby
decreasing its market value and making it a bad bargain at a hundred
guineas."
Nayland Smith met my gaze across the room; again a slight smile
crossed the lean, tanned face.
"I can only reply, Mr. Meyerstein," he said, "in this way: if I desire
to place the box on the market, you shall have first refusal, and the
same applies to the contents, if any. For the moment if you will send
me a note of your fee, I shall be obliged." He raised his hand with a
conclusive gesture. "I am not prepared to discuss the question of sale
any further at present, Mr. Meyerstein."
At that the dealer bowed, took up his hat from the table, and prepared
to depart. Lewison opened the door and stood aside.
"Good morning, gentlemen," said Meyerstein.
As Lewison was about to follow him—
"Since you do not intend to open the box," he said, turning, his hand
upon the door knob, "have you any idea of its contents?"
"None," replied Smith; "but with my present inadequate knowledge of
its history, I do not care to open it."
Lewison smiled skeptically.
"Probably you know best," he
Similar Books
