“It’s plain to see that the trip did you good,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed; “I never felt more fit.  But come along; we can talk at table.  There’s a little difficulty I want you to untangle for me.”  I followed him upstairs to his study, where a table laid for two had been placed near a low window.

“I had lunch served up here,” Vantine explained, as we sat down, “because this is the only really pleasant room left in the house.  If I didn’t own that plot of ground next door, this place would be impossible.  As it is, I can keep the sky-scrapers far enough away to get a little sunshine now and then.  I’ve had to put in an air filter, too; and double windows in the bedrooms to keep out the noise; but I dare say I can manage to hang on.”

“I can understand how you’d hate to move into a new house,” I said.

Vantine made a grimace.

“I couldn’t endure a new house.  I’m used to this one—­I can find my way about in it; I know where things are.  I’ve grown up here, you know; and, as a man gets older, he values such associations more and more.  Besides, a new house would mean new fittings, new furniture—­”

He paused and glanced about the room.  Every piece of furniture in it was the work of a master.

“I suppose you found some new things while you were away?” I said.  “You always do.  Your luck’s proverbial.”

“Yes—­and it’s that I wanted to talk to you about, I brought back six or eight pieces; I’ll show them to you presently.  They are all pretty good, and one is a thing of beauty.  It’s more than that—­it’s an absolutely unique work of art.  Only, unfortunately, it isn’t mine.”

“It isn’t yours?”

“No; and I don’t know whose it is.  If I did, I’d go buy it.  That’s what I want you to do for me.  It’s a Boule cabinet—­the most exquisite I ever saw.”

“Where did it come from?” I questioned, more and more surprised.

“It came from Paris, and it was addressed to me.  The only explanation I can think of is that my shippers at Paris made a mistake, sent me a cabinet belonging to some one else, and sent mine to the other person.”

“You had bought one, then?”

“Yes; and it hasn’t turned up.  But beside this one, it’s a mere daub.  My man Parks got it through the customs yesterday.  As there was a Boule cabinet on my manifest, the mistake wasn’t discovered until the whole lot was brought up here and uncrated this morning.”

“Weren’t they uncrated in the customs?”

“No; I’ve been bringing things in for a good many years, and the customs people know I’m not a thief.”

“That’s quite a compliment,” I pointed out.  “They’ve been tearing things wide open lately.”

“They’ve had a tip of some sort, I suppose.  Come in,” he added, answering a tap at the door.

The door opened and Vantine’s man came in.

“A gentleman to see you, sir,” he said, and handed Vantine a card.