"It was a mistake, then?" I asked.
"One most embarrassing to us. We can not find for it an explanation. Believe me, Mr. Lester, it is not our habit to make mistakes; we have a reputation of which we are very proud; but the cabinet which was purchased by Mr. Vantine remained in our warehouse, and this other one was boxed and shipped to him. We are investigating most rigidly."
"Then Mr. Vantine's cabinet is still in Paris?"
"No, Mr. Lester; the error was discovered some days ago and the cabinet belonging to Mr. Vantine was shipped to me here. It should arrive next Wednesday on La Provence. I shall myself receive it, and deliver it to Mr. Vantine."
"Mr. Vantine is dead," I said. "You did not know?"
He sat staring at me for a moment, as though unable to comprehend.
"Did I understand that you said Mr. Vantine is dead?" he stammered.
I told him briefly as much as I knew of the tragedy, while he sat regarding me with an air of stupefaction.
"It is curious you saw nothing of it in the papers," I added. "They were full of it."
"I have been visiting friends at Quebec," he explained, "It was there that the message from our house found me, commanding me to hasten here. I started at once, and reached this city Saturday. I drove here directly from the station, but was so unfortunate as to miss you."