“By-the-by, you might help me in another matter if you like. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I shall be very glad,” said the Duke.
“Could you be spared from your beat for an hour?”
“It might be possible.”
“Good. Come in with me, and we’ll talk it over.”
The Duke had by this time opened the window of his villa; he gave the young man a leg-up, and afterwards climbed in himself.
“Shut the window again,” commanded the stranger. “Oh, and you might as well just close the shutters.”
“Certainly, your Grace,” said the Duke, and he did as he was bid.
The young man began to move round the room, examining the articles that furnished the side-tables and decorated the walls. The Duke of Belleville had been for a year or two an eager collector of antique plate, and had acquired some fine specimens in both gold and silver. Some of these were now in the villa, and the young man scrutinised them with close attention.
“Dear me,” said he in a vexed tone, as he returned to the hearth, “I thought the Queen Bess flagon was here. Surely I sent it here from Belleville Castle!”