They talked on a little longer, then Homer rose. "I must be getting along," he said; "I've quite a walk before me."
"Well, come back soon," said Mr. Carroll, lighting him to the door with a wavering candle. Homer had his hand on the latch, when the old man said suddenly:
"Hold the candle a minute." He felt in his pocket, and drew forth a small black case, opened it, and thrust it before Homer's eyes. "Look at it," he said, "look at it well, and then you'll know a snake the next time you see one—one of the dangerous kind, not a simple copperhead, or a gentle rattler." In the midst of the glow of a golden background, dimmed here and there by a pearl, was a painted face—fair enough to woo a king, false enough to sell a kingdom. Homer looked, and somehow understood all its beauty and treachery.
"LOOK AT IT," HE SAID, "LOOK AT IT WELL!"
Mr. Carroll shut the case with a snap, took the candle, and Homer let himself out.
"Good-night, Homer," called the old man. "Come back soon."
"Good-night. I will," said Homer, and the door closed between them.