each. I was present when the trunk was opened, and witnessed the
selection of many of the letters. The lady who assorted them threw
about one out of every thirty in a separate pile. I made no inquiry
respecting them, but my curiosity, as you may well imagine, was not a
little excited, especially as I observed several familiar names. The
lady finally unrolled six pieces of parchment, which were blank in
appearance. She folded them up in a square form of about six inches. She
then folded up some three hundred and seventy letters, and placed them
upon the parchment. Upon these she placed a written parchment containing
the copies of about six hundred letters, and having carefully enclosed
the whole in a sealed envelope, she placed them between two beds upon
which she usually slept. The remainder she packed up and sent to her
husband's attorney. Immediately she left the room to visit her husband
in prison.

Scarcely had she retired, before my curiosity was intensely excited to
learn the contents of the concealed package. I ventured into the room
with the intention of satisfying myself. I no sooner placed my hand upon
the package, than I felt the blood seemingly curdling in my veins. The
thought that I was about to act the part of a dishonest man impressed me
deeply. I reflected a moment, and then dropped the package, and hastened
to leave the room. As I turned from the bedside, my desire to know the
contents of the package came upon me with a redoubled force. The passion
was too violent for resistance, for I was confident some of these
letters were written by men I had known from my infancy. Whether I acted
properly or improperly, an impartial public must determine; but after
thinking upon the subject a moment, I turned, grasped the package, and
bore it off under the keenest sensations of alarm and fear of detection.
I hastened down stairs and made my way to the house of a man by the
name of Watkins. He was a good man, and a sincere friend to me. His wife