“I don’t know how it can be,” said Mr. Dick, sorely puzzled and shaking his head. “I don’t think I am as old as that.”

“Was it in that year that the man appeared, sir?” I asked.

“Why, really,” said Mr. Dick, “I don’t see how it can have been in that year, Trotwood. Did you get that date out of history?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I suppose history never lies, does it?” said Mr. Dick, with a gleam of hope.

“Oh dear, no, sir!” I replied, most decisively. I was ingenuous and young, and I thought so.