“Yes—­his name is Godfrey.”

“A man of the law, like yourself?”

“Oh, no, a newspaper man.  But he had been a member of the detective force before that.  He is extraordinarily keen, and if anybody could have found that drawer, he could.  But that combination was too much for him.”

M. Armand snapped the drawer back into place with a little crash.

“I am glad, at any rate, that it was discovered,” he said.  “I will not conceal from you, Mr. Lester, that it adds not a little to the value of the cabinet.”

“What is its value?” I asked.  “Mr. Vantine wanted me to buy it for him, and named a most extravagant figure as the limit he was willing to pay.”

“Really,” M. Armand answered, after an instant’s hesitation, “I would not care to name a figure, Mr. Lester, without further consultation with my father.  The cabinet is quite unique—­the most beautiful, perhaps, that M. Boule ever produced.  Did you discover Madame de Montespan’s monogram?”

“No.  Mr. Vantine said he was sure it existed; but Godfrey and I did not look for it.”

M. Armand opened the doors which concealed the central drawers.

“Voila!” he said, and traced with his finger the arabesque just under the pediment.  “See how cunningly it has been blended with the other figures.  And here is the emblem of the giver.”  He pointed to a tiny golden sun with radiating rays on the base of the pediment, just above the monogram. “Le roi soleil!”

“_ Le roi soleil!_” I repeated.  “Of course.  We were stupid not to have discerned it.  That tells the whole story, doesn’t it?  What is it, Parks?” I added, as that worthy appeared at the door.

“There’s a van outside, sir,” he said, “and a couple of men are unloading a piece of furniture.  Is it all right, sir?”

“Yes,” I answered.  “Have them bring it in here.  And ask the man in charge of the inventory to step over here a minute.  Mr. Vantine left his collection of art objects to the Metropolitan Museum,” I explained to M. Armand, “and I should like the representative of the museum to be present when the exchange is made.”

“Certainly,” he assented.  “That is very just.”

Parks was back in a moment, piloting two men who carried between them an object swathed in burlap, and the Metropolitan man followed them in.

“I am Mr. Lester,” I said to him, “Mr. Vantine’s executor; and this is M. Felix Armand, of Armand & Son, of Paris.  We are correcting an error which was made just before Mr. Vantine died.  That cabinet yonder was shipped him by mistake in place of one which he had bought.  M. Armand has caused the right one to be sent over, and will take away the one which belongs to him.  I have already spoken to the museum’s attorney about the matter, but I wished you to be present when the exchange was made.”

“I have no doubt it is all right, sir,” the museum man hastened to assure me.  “You, of course, have personal knowledge of all this?”