Thus excusing himself, he profanes the sacred interior of the missive, and finds the suspicious signature--"Robert." Trembling at the temptation to read more, he hastily folds the sheet, and returns it to the envelope. But the next moment it is out again, and he is reading with flushed cheek and burning eye, the tender words that Robert C. has written to Miss A. "All this hath a little dashed his spirits;" and he returns to bed feverish and restless. In spite of his reason, which keeps saying stoutly, "what's the harm? nobody will know it," he suffers greatly in conscience. But the Valentine is taken from the office, and the profanation of its mystery remains unsuspected. And in a few days another Valentine appears, addressed to Robert Cartwright. The hand-writing, although disguised, is alarmingly like Miss A.'s. By this time the clerk's jealousy has eaten up his conscience. "There's no more harm in opening two than in opening one," whispers the devil in his ear. "I believe you," says the clerk; "but I may yet be found out." "No danger," says the devil; "only be careful." He is too ready to adopt the suggestion. He is excusable, he thinks, under the circumstances. The Valentine is accordingly opened and read. Deliberation and forethought add gravity to the offence. The clerk has unconsciously blunted his moral perceptions, and weakened his moral strength; and he is now prepared to open regular letters passing through his hands. At first it is jealousy and rivalry that tempt his curiosity. Then other matters of interest entice him, until one day he discovers, in no little consternation, that he has thrust his fingers into a nest of bank-notes! "Well, after all," says he, "Mr. B. is rich; he won't mind the loss; it's only a trifle with him. While to me, the sum is considerable. If I don't keep up appearances with Bob Cartwright, I might as well be out of the world. I've a right to live; and destroying this letter and appropriating its _contents_, is just nothing at all, if I don't get found out. But I'm safe enough--I'm the very last person to be suspected." The career of this young man need not be traced further. Nor need the subject of Valentines be pursued. We have written enough to show that they are the offspring of weak sentimentalism or foolish buffoonery; an encumbrance to the mails, an annoyance to those who receive them, a tax to all parties, and a temptation to post-office clerks; and withal, imbecilities and immoralities which all worthy citizens should take every occasion to discountenance, and banish from civilized society. CHAPTER XXIX. THE CLAIRVOYANT DISCOVERY. A short time after the detection of the New Haven mail robber, a gentleman from the town of W. called upon the post master at Hartford, to say that he had some weeks since mailed a letter at the post-office in the town where he resided, addressed to a firm in Hartford; and containing a sum of money, and that the letter had never been received.