the work of craftsmen at Rome in the fifteenth century.  It was papal furniture of the early Renaissance, well known to him as being in a Spanish collection—­a hundred and fifty years ago that is now—­and when these things came into the market, he rejoiced and hurried off to Valencia, where it was to be sold.  For he was even such a man as your grandfather—­a connoisseur and an enthusiastic collector.  But, alas, his hopes were short-lived; he found himself in opposition to a deeper purse than his own, and it was Sir John Lennox, not my father, who secured the bed and the two chairs that go with it.  These things, as I tell you, returned to my recollection, and, remembering them, I guessed myself upon the right track.  The arms of the Borgia, and the successful experiment with the dog, Prince, proved that I was correct in guessing where the poison lay hidden.”

“It is impossible to express my sense of your amazing goodness, or my gratitude, or my admiration for your genius,” declared Sir Walter; but the other contradicted him.

“Genius is a great word to which I can lay no claim.  I have done nothing at all that you yourself might not have done, given the same knowledge.  As for gratitude, if indeed that is not too strong an expression also, you can show gratitude in a very simple manner, dear friend.  I am a practical, old man and, to be honest, I very greatly covet the Borgia bed and chairs.  Now, if indeed you feel that I am not asking too grand a favor—­a favor out of all keeping with my good offices on your behalf—­then let me purchase the bed and chairs, and convey them with me home to Rome.  It is seemly that they should return to Rome, is it not?  Rome would welcome them.  I much desire to sleep in that bed—­to be where I am so sure Prince Djem lay when he breathed his last.  Yes, believe me, he received your bed as a gracious present from Alexander VI.  The Borgia were generous of such gifts.”

“The bed and chairs are yours, my dear signor, and the rest of the contents of the Grey Room, also, if you esteem them in any way.”

“Positively I could not, Sir Walter.”

“Indeed you shall.  It is done, and leaves me greatly your debtor still.”

“Then be it so.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  Nor will I say that you oppress me with such extraordinary generosity, for is it not more blessed to give than receive?  Heavens knows what dark evils the bed may have committed in the course of its career, but its activities are at an end.  For me it shall bring no more than honest slumber.  But the mattress—­no.  I do not want the mattress.  That will be a nice present for the museum of your Royal College of Surgeons.”

A week later the old man was sufficiently rested, and he returned home, taking his treasures with him.  But he did not depart until he had won a promise that Sir Walter and Mary would visit him at Rome within the year.

Experts again descended upon Chadlands, packed the source of tribulation with exceeding care, and conveyed it to London for examination.  Those destined to make the inquiry were much alive to their perils, and took no risk.