"You charlatan," he said, hoarsely. "You barefaced trickster."
Bell started back. His mute question stung Littimer to the quick.
"You wanted to be cleared," the latter said. "You wanted to befool me again. You come here in some infernally cunning fashion, you steal my picture from the frame and have the matchless audacity to pass it off for a second one. Man alive, if it were earlier I would have you flogged from the house like the ungrateful dog that you are."
Chris checked down the cry that rose to her lips. She saw, as in a flash of lightning, the brilliancy and simplicity and cunning of Henson's latest and most masterly scheme.
CHAPTER XXXIII
THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE
After the first passionate outburst of scorn Lord Littimer looked at his visitor quietly. There was something almost amusing in the idea that Bell should attempt such a trick upon him. And the listener was thoroughly enjoying the scene now. There was quite an element of the farcical about it. In the brilliant light she could see Littimer's dark, bitter face and the helpless amazement on the strong features of Hatherly Bell. And, meanwhile, the man who had brought the impossible situation about was calmly sleeping after his strenuous exertions.
Chris smiled to herself as she thought out her brilliant coup. It looked to her nothing less than a stroke of genius, two strokes, in fact, as will be seen presently. Before many hours were over Henson's position in the house would be seriously weakened. He had done a clever thing, but Chris saw her way to a cleverer one still.
Meanwhile the two men were regarding one another suspiciously. On a round
Chippendale table the offending Rembrandt lay between them.
"I confess," Bell said, at length, "I confess that I am utterly taken by surprise. And yet I need not be so astonished when I come to think of the amazing cunning and audacity of my antagonist. He has more foresight than myself. Lord Littimer, will you be so kind as to repeat your last observation over again?"