"Pray, sir," he said, "if you are really Colonel Smeaton's servant, and nobody else, when did you enter that gentleman's service, and where?" "In Lunnun town," replied the man, drily, "on the fifth day of June last, at about half past three in the evening. Thank God, I have had a good edication, considering the mess I was brought up in; and I am very reg'lar in my habits--which I owe to my dear departed mother, who always kept her washing-books very correct, and wiped her hands whenever she took them out of the tub. She used to say she could always go into court with clean hands, poor woman; and so can I; for you see I always keep a little book here in my pocket, in which I put down when I enter, and when I quit, a service, and I get my kind masters to sign for me. Some of them don't speak as well as I deserve, it is true; but still they cannot say much harm. There is the book. You may look at it." "Let me see, let me see," said the Justice; and, taking the book, he read some of the various characters which had been given to the man before him by the different masters whom he had served; one of which was as follows: "This is to certify that Thomas Higham was in my service for eleven months and three days--a clever fellow, but a saucy rascal--passably honest, and not given to drink. I discharged him for his impudence. "HENRY SACKVILLE, "_Deputy Comptroller of Her Majesty's Household_." Such was the first certificate he read; but there were a number of others, all much to the same purpose, which fully accounted for the time of Master Thomas Higham, from the age of sixteen up to the moment at which he stood before the magistrate. "There must be some mistake here," said Mr. Best, beckoning up Captain Smallpiece and pointing to the papers before him. At that instant, the report of fire-arms was heard through the window which Richard Newark had left open, and the Justice exclaimed: "Hark! What is that?" "Some of the fools let a pistol off by accident," answered the military officer. "Being fools, they are always committing some folly." Having been thus oracular, he proceeded, with a somewhat unsteady gaze, to examine the certificates before him. He was one of those men who, even in their most sober moments (and he was not now sober), have a certain obscurity of mental vision which prevents them from perceiving anything but what is immediately before them. He stumbled and blundered through several of the testimonials, repeating from time to time--"Well, I don't see what that has to do with it. Well, I don't see--Tom Higham may be a good sort of saucy fellow; but who is Tom Higham? I should like to know. You cannot tell that this is Tom Higham."