The Duke made a sign.
Reve de Noir placed himself near the canvas. His profile was the
counterpart of that in the painting. He seemed to have stepped out of it.
"It was I," said the Duke, in a gentle voice, and with a smile which just
disclosed the ivory line under the black moustache, "who caused this
picture to be copied and altered. The beauty of the Hon. Mrs. Denslow,
whom it was my highest pleasure to know, seemed to me to surpass that of
the queen of my original. I first, with great secrecy, unknown to your
wife," continued the Duke, turning to Denslow, "procured a portrait from
the life by memory, which was afterwards transferred to this canvas. The
resemblance to my attendant is, I confess, remarkable and inexplicable."
"But will you tell us by what accident this copy happened to be in Italy?"
asked Dalton.
"You will remember," replied the Duke, coldly, "that at Paris, noticing
your expressions of admiration for the picture, which you had seen in my
English gallery, I gave you a history of its purchase at Bologna by
myself. I sent my artist to Bologna, with orders to place the copy in the
gallery and to introduce the portrait of the lady; it was a freak of
fancy; I meant it for a surprise; as I felt sure, that, if you saw the
picture, you would secure it.
"It seems to me," replied Dalton, "that the _onus_ of proof rests with
your Highness.
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