"Ah! the pictures," cried Aristide, with a wide sweep of his arms.
"Galleries full of them. Raphael, Michael Angelo, Wiertz, Reynolds----"

He paused, not in order to produce the effect of a dramatic aposiopesis,
but because he could not for the moment remember other names of
painters.

"It is a truly historical chateau," said he.

"I should love to see it," said the girl.

Aristide threw out his arms across the table. "It is yours,
mademoiselle, for your honeymoon," said he.

Dinner came to an end. Miss Christabel left the gentlemen to their wine,
an excellent port whose English qualities were vaunted by the host.
Aristide, full of food and drink and the mellow glories of the castle in
Languedoc, and smoking an enormous cigar, felt at ease with all the
world. He knew he should like the kind Mr. Smith, hospitable though
somewhat insular man. He could stay with him for a week--or a month--why
not a year?

After coffee and liqueurs had been served Mr. Smith rose and switched on
a powerful electric light at the end of the large room, showing a
picture on an easel covered by a curtain. He beckoned to Aristide to
join him and, drawing the curtain, disclosed the picture.

"There!" said he. "Isn't it a stunner?"

It was a picture all grey skies and grey water and grey feathery trees,
and a little man in the foreground wore a red cap.

"It is beautiful, but indeed it is magnificent!" cried Aristide, always
impressionable to things of beauty.

"Genuine Corot, isn't it?"

"Without doubt," said Aristide.

His host poked him in the ribs. "I thought I'd astonish you. You
wouldn't believe Gottschalk could have done it. There it is--as large as
life and twice as natural. If you or anyone else can tell it from a
genuine Corot I'll eat my hat. And all for eight pounds."

Aristide looked at the beefy face and caught a look of cunning in the
little pig's eyes.

"Now are you satisfied?" asked Mr. Smith.

"More than satisfied," said Aristide, though what he was to be satisfied
about passed, for the moment, his comprehension.

"If it was a copy of an existing picture, you know--one might have
understood it--that, of course, would be dangerous--but for a man to go
and get bits out of various Corots and stick them together like this is
miraculous. If it hadn't been for a matter of business principle I'd
have given the fellow eight guineas instead of pounds--hanged if I
wouldn't! He deserves it."

"He does indeed," said A