saying that he should give himself the pleasure of waiting on him the
next day on a matter of business. He then called on his tutor, and with
some excuse obtained leave to journey to London the next morning. He
spent the rest of the day in very carefully cleaning the violin, and
noon of the next saw him with it, securely packed, in Mr. Smart's
establishment in Bond Street.

Mr. Smart received Sir John Maltravers with deference, demanded in what
way he could serve him; and on hearing that his opinion was required on
the authenticity of a violin, smiled somewhat dubiously and led the way
into a back parlour.

"My dear Sir John," he said, "I hope you have not been led into buying
any instrument by a faith in its antiquity. So many good copies of
instruments by famous makers and bearing their labels are now afloat,
that the chances of obtaining a genuine fiddle from an unrecognised
source are quite remote; of hundreds of violins submitted to me for
opinion, I find that scarce one in fifty is actually that which it
represents itself to be. In fact the only safe rule," he added as a
professional commentary, "is never to buy a violin unless you obtain it
from a dealer with a reputation to lose, and are prepared to pay a
reasonable price for it."

My brother had meanwhile unpacked the violin and laid it on the table.
As he took from it the last leaf of silver paper he saw Mr. Smart's
smile of condescension fade, and assuming a look of interest and
excitement, he stepped forward, took the violin in his hands, and
scrutinised it minutely. He turned it over in silence for some moments,
looking narrowly at each feature, and even applying the test of a
magnifying-glass. At last he said with an altered tone, "Sir John, I