"I hope to do so presently," Bell said, pointedly; "but not yet. In the first instance I have to prove to you that I have not stolen your Rembrandt." "Indeed? I should like to know how you propose to do that." "I shall prove it at once. You were under the impression that you possessed the only copy of the 'Crimson Blind' in existence. When you lost yours and a copy of the picture was found in my possession, you were perfectly justified in believing that I was the thief." "I did take that extreme view of the matter," Littimer said, drily. "Under the circumstances I should have done the same thing. But you were absolutely wrong, because there were two copies of the picture. Yours was stolen by an enemy of mine who had the most urgent reasons for discrediting me in your eyes, and the other was concealed amongst my belongings. It was no loss to the thief, because subsequently the stolen one--my own one being restored to you--could have been exposed and disposed of as a new find. Your print is in the house?" "It hangs in the gallery at the present moment." "Very good. Then, my lord, what do you say to this?" Bell took the roll of paper from his pocket, and gravely flattened it out on the table before him, so that the full rays of the electric light should fall upon it. Littimer was a fine study of open-mouthed surprise. He could only stand there gaping, touching the stained paper with his fingers and breathing heavily. "Here is a facsimile of your treasure," Bell went on. "Here is the same thing. You are a good judge on these matters, and I venture to say you will call it genuine. There is nothing of forgery about the engraving." "Good heavens, no," Littimer snapped. "Any fool could see that." "Which you will admit is a very great point in my favour," Bell said, gravely. "I begin to think that I have done you a great injustice," Littimer admitted; "but, under the circumstances, I don't see how I could have done anything else. Look at that picture. It is exactly the same as mine. There is exactly the same discolouration in the margin in exactly the same place." "Probably they lay flat on the top of one another for scores of years." "Possibly. I can't see the slightest difference in the smallest particular. Even now I cannot rid myself of the feeling that I am the victim of some kind of plot or delusion. The house is quiet now and there is nobody about. Before I believe the evidence of my senses--and I have had cause to doubt them more than once--I should like to compare this print with mine. Will you follow me to the gallery, if you haven't forgotten the way?" Littimer took up the treasure from the table gingerly. He was pleased and at the same time disappointed; pleased to find that he had been mistaken all these years, sorry in the knowledge that his picture was unique no longer. He said nothing until the alcove was reached, and Chris drew back in the shadow to let the others pass.