The improbability that this worthy old man should have become the receiver of stolen goods did not concern me. I knew that the mania for collecting sweeps away all moral considerations like chaff before the wind, especially when second childhood has already begun to obscure the mind.
CHAPTER VII
LAWYER JURGENS
My decision was taken. I would pay a visit to the lawyer without loss of time. The difficulty lay in getting the old man to speak out the truth, if he really was in possession of the black tortoise.
I dared not use strong means; it was a weakly old man I had to do with, but to get the better of him was not so easy. He was possessed of not a little cunning, and his firmness, when it was a question of preserving any of his treasures, was quite incredible; of this I was already aware.
Mr. Jurgens knew me well. I had had to do with him twice before on official business, when some one had tried to rob him. Besides, we had met each other several times at Frick's, and finally, I had now and then gone, like so many other interested people in the town, to see if he had any remarkable increase in his line collection.
Of course you know the Jurgens collection in the national museum? It has a whole department to itself. Some time before his death he presented all of it to the public.
While I called at my lodgings to change clothes I laid my plan of campaign.
It was neither particularly subtle nor cunningly conceived—only a common trick, as you will see; but, as you will also see, it was good enough for the occasion.
I rang at Mr. Jurgens's house in Munkedam Road. He lived on the first floor.