As he turned paper after paper, his eye rested upon a packet enclosed in a blank envelope. His curiosity was aroused, and, glancing indifferently at Jaspar, he saw that his piercing eye regarded him with intense scrutiny. Continuing his labor without disturbing the mysterious packet, he waited until the sharp eye of his companion was removed from him. On the table by the side of Jaspar was a bottle of brandy, at which, at short intervals, the miserable man paid his devoir. Dalhousie did not, therefore, have to wait long before the keen watcher left his chair, and, with his back to him, took a long draught of the exciting beverage. The overseer, seizing the favorable opportunity, slipped the packet into his pocket. As indifferently as before, he completed the task, and Jaspar was relieved when he saw the papers again filed away. Dalhousie sought his room, and, scarcely heeding the salutation of his wife, he seated himself, and drew forth the packet. Removing the blank envelope, he found it was a letter, directed to "Emily Dumont," with a request to Mr. Faxon that it might be delivered to her after the writer's decease. This seemed to imply that the writer had intended the clergyman as the keeper of the letter; but with this surmise the overseer did not trouble himself. He turned the letter over and over, examined the seal of Colonel Dumont, which was upon it, and, at last, as though he had satisfied the warning voice of conscience, he snapped the wax, and opened it. The letter was quite a lengthy one, yet, without raising his eyes, he completed the reading of it. A faint smile of satisfaction played upon his lips, as he re-folded the paper, and returned it to the envelope. "You have a letter, Francois?" said his wife, who had watched him in silence as he read, and who noticed the complacent smile its contents had produced. "Yes, Delia, and our fortune is at last come," replied Dalhousie, rising, and bestowing a kiss upon the fair cheek of the lady. "Is it from France?" "No, dear; it is from the land of spirits!" answered Dalhousie, with a good-natured laugh. "Indeed! I was not aware that you had a correspondent there." "But I have; and I am exceedingly obliged to him for putting me in possession of such useful information as this letter contains." "Pray, who is your ghostly correspondent?" "Colonel Dumont,--a deceased brother of the worthy Jaspar, in whose employ we now are." "Do not jest, Francois!" said the lady, as a feeling akin to superstition rose in her mind. "Jest or not, the letter was written by him," continued her husband, still retaining his playful smile. "To you?" "Not exactly; but I presume he meant it for me, or it would not have slipped so easily through Mr. Dumont's fingers into mine." "To whom is it directed, Francois?"