And my being in the house is pure innocence. Your overseer knew that I
would neither make nor meddle with aught but the books, or he would not
have given me the key to the little door, which I now restore to your
Honor's keeping." He advanced, and deposited upon the table a large key.

"What is your name?" demanded Haward, leaning back in his chair.

"Bartholomew Paris, sir. I keep the school down by the swamp, where I
impart to fifteen or twenty of the youth of these parts the rudiments of
the ancient and modern tongues, mathematics, geography, fortifications,
navigation, philosophy"--

Haward yawned, and the schoolmaster broke the thread of his discourse. "I
weary you, sir," he said. "I will, with your permission, take my
departure. May I make so bold as to beg your Honor that you will not
mention to the gentlemen hereabouts the small matter of this bottle of
wine? I would wish not to be prejudiced in the eyes of my patrons and
scholars."

"I will think of it," Haward replied. "Come and take your snuffbox--if it
be yours--from the book where you have left it."

"It is mine," said the man. "A present from the godly minister of this
parish."

As he spoke he put out his hand to take the snuffbox. Haward leaned
forward, seized the hand, and, bending back the fingers, exposed the palm
to the light of the candles upon the table.

"The other, if you please," he commanded.