"Well, well, why so positive? Supposing we should find something, after all. Let's look around a bit; it won't cost us anything."
So saying, the old dealer drew his guest toward the pile of unframed portraits leaning against the wall in a corner, and began to turn them over, one by one. Suddenly the young man at his side uttered a passionate interjection.
"Aha!" cried the Jew, in triumph; "have we found something at last worth hunting for?" And he drew out the picture that had caused the other's hasty exclamation, dusted it with his sleeve, and held it up to the light, where Richard could see it.
"That is my portrait!" cried the young man.
"Yes, to be sure, it is," replied the other. "It has been here six months or so. Miss Danaë, as you see, was less scrupulous than you, and she sold it to me half a year ago. Five silver florins was the price I paid for it."
"And what will you take for the picture now?"
"This picture? Your own picture? As I have already said, I'll give it in exchange."
"Done!" cried Richard.
"Ah, Captain, you are too hasty in closing a bargain," said the old man. "Be more cautious. Any one but old Solomon would be likely to take advantage of you. You might have made me pay you something to boot."
"Send home my picture, and I shall be glad enough to wash my hands of the whole affair," returned Richard. "After that you may squeeze Miss Danaë for a million, as far as I am concerned."