"But did he say"--ventured Jared. "No; he didn't say not another word," said the old housekeeper; and Jared turned disconsolately away, walking down the street in a purposeless manner, until, moved by another idea, he roused himself and hurried in the direction of Mr Timson's stores, where he found the head of the establishment, very stern and important, in his counting-house, but apparently ready to listen to reason. "It's all a mistake, sir; I'm as innocent as a child," exclaimed Jared. "Hadn't you better shut the door first, sir?" said Timson, drily; when Jared hurriedly closed the glass-door of communication with the warehouse. "That's better," said he. "As well not to let all the world know." "It's all a mistake though, Mr Timson," again exclaimed Jared. "Just so--just so, Mr Pellet, sir; but prove it;" and Timson thrust his fingers into his waistcoat, and then drew himself back as far as he could. "That key has been in my locker for weeks and weeks now," said Jared. "I saw it lying there, and thought it might have been left by somebody. It never occurred to me that it would open the poor-boxes." Mr Timson raised his eyebrows, and looked deeply into the account-book before him, and then he placed three fingers upon the three columns-- pounds, shillings, and pence--and slowly and methodically thrust them up the paper, as if calculating the amount of all three at one and the same time. He muttered, too, several indistinct words, which sounded like the names of various sums of money, before he turned again to Jared. "I always told the vicar it was false keys, Mr Pellet; but if we've put the saddle upon the wrong horse, or the boot upon the wrong foot, why the wearer must kick it off, sir." "But you don't think that I did it, sir?" exclaimed Jared, pitifully. "Well, I don't know, Mr Pellet--I don't know," said the churchwarden. "I don't know, indeed, sir. I don't want to think it's you; but what are we to do? Mr Gray comes to me, lays his hand on my shoulder, and he says--only last night, mind, sir"--(Mr Timson had his apron on, and therefore he said "sir")--"`Timson, I've found out the culprit'." "`Then I hope you're satisfied, sir,' I said. "`No,' he said, `no, not at all; I've found him out, but now I wish to goodness that I had not, for it seems a cruel thing.' "`Who is it, sir?' I said. "`Oh!' he said, `it's poor Pellet I found a false key at the bottom of his book-locker when I took the organist of St Chrysostom's to try our instrument.' "`Pooh!' I said, `nonsense, sir! stuff!' "`What!' he says; `why, you suspected him yourself, and said you were sure he was the culprit only the other day.'" "Oh Mr Timson!" groaned Jared. "Now don't you be in a hurry," grumbled the churchwarden, pettishly. "Hear me out, can't you. You young fellows always will be so rash." Jared raised his hands deprecatingly, and the churchwarden continued--