At that moment Providence sent a wandering Egyptologist on the scene.
“Ah, here is the man who knows,” was my reply. By careful shepherding, the expert was got across to the table, and comfortably settled in a chair. I saw an angry look come over his face when he caught sight of the specimens, and I very quietly withdrew. As I left I heard the visitor say, “Ah well, you wouldn’t take my offer of twenty pounds, and now I shall retire from the business.”
An hour later, the charming ladies who had watched the scene fell foul of me for having permitted an ignorant visitor to be robbed of twenty pounds for worthless frauds.
“Why, we could see that they were not genuine!” they cried.
“Then why didn’t you say so?” was my testy reply.
“It was not our business; he didn’t ask us,” they said scornfully. “But we heard him ask you, and you did not answer.”
Now, it was quite useless to explain that I had stopped the sale by bringing the Egyptologist into the affair. I was put down as “a mean thing,” and not forgiven for some time after. Nor was this all the misfortune that befell me, for later the Egyptologist said huffily, “Look here, when next your opinion is asked upon antiquities, spurious or otherwise, do the work yourself, and don’t bring me into it.”
Later, the visitor loftily denied that he had offered £20 for the figures. Then it was that the ladies partly forgave me, for they had heard the offer made.
PLATE VII.
