"That was Mr. Vantine's belief," I said. "Why he should have arrived at that conclusion, I don't know—"
"Mr. Vantine was a connoisseur," said M. Armand, quietly. "There are certain indications which no connoisseur could mistake."
"It was his guess at the history of the cabinet," I explained, "which gave me the basis for my theory. A cabinet belonging to Madame de Montespan would, of course, have a secret drawer; and, since it was made in the days of de Brinvilliers and La Voisin, what more natural than that it should be guarded by a poisoned mechanism?"
"What more natural, indeed!" breathed my companion, and I fancied that he looked at me with a new interest in his eyes. "It is good reasoning, Mr. Lester."
"It seemed to explain a situation for which no other explanation has been found," I said. "And it had also the merit of picturesqueness."
"It is unique," he agreed eagerly, his eyes burning like two coals of fire, so intense was his interest. "I have been from boyhood," he added, noticing my glance, "a lover of tales of mystery. They have for me a fascination I cannot explain; there is in my blood something that responds to them. I feel sometimes that I would have made a great detective—or a great criminal. Instead of which, I am merely a dealer in curios. You can understand how I am fascinated by a story so outré as this."
"Perhaps you can assist us," I suggested, "for that theory of mine has been completely disproved."
"Disproved? In what way?" he demanded.
"The secret drawer has been found…."
"Comment?" he cried, his voice sharp with surprise. "Found? The secret drawer has been found?"