Now Mary had never thought any such thing.  She knew that her uncle much wished her to marry Roswell, and had all along fancied that the paper she held, which indeed was contained in an envelop addressed to her lover, contained some expression of his wishes on this to her the most interesting of all subjects, and nothing else.  Mary Pratt thought very little of her uncle’s property, and still less of its future disposition, while she thought a great deal of Roswell Gardiner and of his suit.  It was, consequently, the most natural thing in the world that she should have fallen into some such error as this.  But, now that the subject was brought to her mind in this new light, she arose, went to her own room, and soon re-appeared with the paper in her hand.  Both Mr. Job Pratt and Rev. Mr. Whittle offered to relieve her of the burthen; and the former, by a pretty decided movement, did actually succeed in getting possession of the documents.  The papers were done up in the form of a large business letter, Was duly sealed with wax, and was addressed to “Mr. Roswell Gardiner, Master of the Schooner Sea Lion, now absent on a voyage.”  The superscription was read aloud, a little under the influence of surprise; notwithstanding which, Mr. Job Pratt was very coolly proceeding to open the packet, precisely as if it had been addressed to himself.  In this decided step, Mrs. Martin, and Mrs. Thomas, and Rev. Mr. Whittle, might be set down as accessories before the act; for each approached; and so eager were the two women, that they actually assisted in breaking the seal.

“If that letter is addressed to me,” said Roswell Gardiner, with firmness and authority, “I claim the right to open it myself.  It is unusual for those to whom a letter is not addressed to assume this office.”

“But, it comes from Deacon Pratt,” cried the widow Martin, “and may contain his will.”

“In which case, a body would think I have some rights concerned,” said Mr. Job Pratt, a little more coolly, but with manifest doubts.

“Sartain!” put in Mrs. Thomas.  “Brothers and sisters, and even cousins, come before strangers, any day.  Here we are, a brother and sister of the deacon, and we ought to have a right to read his letters.”

All this time Roswell had stood with an extended arm, and an eye that caused Mr. Job Pratt to control his impatience.  Mary advanced close to his side, as if to sustain him, but she said nothing.

“There is a law, with severe penalties, against knowingly opening a letter addressed to another,” resumed Roswell, steadily; “and it shall be enforced against any one who shall presume to open one of mine.  If that letter has my address, sir, I demand it; and I will have it, at every hazard.”

Roswell advanced a step nearer Mr. Job Pratt, and the letter was reluctantly yielded; though not until the widow Martin had made a nervous but abortive snatch at it.

“At any rate, it ought to be opened in our presence,” put in this woman, “that we may see what is in it.”