The close of the year 1839, and the opening of 1840, were marked in the Post-Office Department with frequent and startling announcements of the loss, by mail, of valuable letters from Southern Virginia, and Eastern and Northern North Carolina, directed to Richmond and other commercial cities farther North.

These cases, as they reached the Department, were duly prepared and submitted to the Special Agent for investigation. Search and inquiry were promptly instituted. But for a time the utmost vigilance failed to obtain any clue to the supposed embezzlements. The cases of loss continued to multiply; and at length the Agent's attention was particularly drawn to the Distributing Post-Office at P.

A circle of numerous facts pointed unmistakably to this spot as their center and focus. It was here that the lines of circumstantial evidence from every quarter converged and met. The post-office at P., therefore, became an object of special interest in the eyes of the Agent.

However, investigations in this direction proved at first no more successful than elsewhere. The high integrity of character for which the post master was distinguished, and the excellent reputation of his clerks, stood like a wall of adamant in the way of all evidence and all suspicions.

The Agent seemed destined to be baffled at every point. Yet a stern truth stared him in the face, and fixed its immovable finger over this Distributing office. Every missing letter, although reaching P. by various routes, had been mailed at points South of it for points North of it. Here they must all concentrate, and here only. It was therefore at this place only that all the losses could have occurred.

Several days were passed by the Agent in P. and the vicinity, quietly pursuing his investigations. No person knew the secret of his business. He became acquainted with the post master and his two clerks, studied their characters, and their social circumstances.

The first was a man of position and competence, whose honor no breath of calumny had ever dimmed, and who could not possibly have any motive for periling the peace and prosperity of his family by a dishonest course. Neither did the unflawed respectability of the clerks betray any chink or crevice in which to harbor a doubt.

The elder of these, and the superior in the office, was a young man of education and refinement. We will call his name Carleton. His face was frank, his eye steady and clear, his manners always self-possessed and easy. The Agent liked and admired him from the first. He learned too that he was a favorite with all who knew him—that his connections were among the first families in the State; and that by his talents and high-toned generous impulses, he had so far nobly sustained the lustre of his family name.

Another circumstance was greatly in Carleton's favor. Although descended from the "aristocracy," the fortunes of his family had run somewhat low in the later generations; and now, his father being dead, he devoted himself zealously to the maintenance of his aged mother, and the education and support of his only sister.

The junior clerk was a youth of minor pretensions. He was uniformly retiring in his manners. Although by no means a person of forbidding aspect, there was something measured and guarded in his movements, far less prepossessing than the free and chivalrous bearing of Carleton. This apparent prudence might arise from various causes. The Agent could not believe that it was the result of a secretive and dishonest disposition. If such was the case, however, that same discretion had effectually succeeded in covering the poverty of his moral character from public scrutiny.

Foiled at every point where he attempted to hang the sad burden of criminal facts, the Agent resolved upon striking a bold and hazardous blow. He sought a private interview with Carleton.

"Do you know," said he, "that I am here on very delicate and peculiar business?"

"I had not thought of such a thing," replied Carleton.

"Well, sir, I will tell you. I am convinced that you are the very man to assist me. If you will, you may do me and the Post-Office Department a signal service."

"I do not understand you."

"No, but you will. First, however, give me your pledge that what I have to divulge shall be held in strictest confidence and honor by you."

"Certainly," said Carleton, "if you wish it."

The Agent then stated the business that had brought him to P——. Carleton expressed some surprise, but cheerfully promised to afford the Department any assistance and information in his power.

"Have you mentioned the subject to Mr. B.?" he asked.

"Not yet; he is the nominal post master, it is true, but you have a far more intimate knowledge of the details of the office than he has. I have another reason for not speaking with him. I dislike to disturb his confidence until the establishment of strong proof renders it my duty to do so."

"You can speak to me with perfect plainness," said Carleton.

"I trust so," replied the Agent. "And I am sure you will do all you can to set me right, if I am going wrong. Nor will you, I am convinced, suffer me to injure an innocent person in your estimation. To come to the point, then, I wish you to open your inmost thoughts, and tell me if you regard it as possible that your fellow-clerk can be guilty of these depredations upon the mails."

"You shock me," said Carleton, not without emotion.

"Speak freely," continued the Agent.

"Why, I could almost as soon think of suspecting Mr. B. himself," exclaimed the other. "I believe Howard to be perfectly honest."

"Certainly, I know nothing to the contrary; and I sincerely hope your judgment is well founded. But," continued the Agent, "our public duty should not be altogether biassed by private opinion. You will not, therefore, fail to unite with me in tracing the embezzlements to their true source, no matter at whose door the blame may be laid."

"I will do all in my power," said Carleton. "Although I would be almost willing to pledge my own reputation that the losses have occurred outside of the office, I will use every exertion to discover any dereliction from duty that may come within my sphere of observation."

The Agent expressed his thanks for the clerk's ready promise of coÖperation, and took his leave.

Meanwhile he did not neglect other measures that he had adopted for tracing the robberies. By a singular coincidence, within an hour after this conversation with Carleton, he was able to seize a certain clue, which he had long been in search of, and despaired of obtaining.

On his return to the hotel, the landlord thus addressed him:

"You asked me if I could give you any more large bills, in exchange for small ones. I think I can accommodate you this morning. I have a one hundred dollar bank-note, which, if you are sending money by mail, will be very convenient."

"Thank you," replied the Agent; "it will be a great accommodation."

The landlord passed the bank-note over the counter. One can imagine the Agent's secret triumph on discovering, at last, one of the very bills he was in search of, one that had been lost in a letter passing that post-office only a week before; and of which he had an accurate description from the Department.

Having made the purchase, he held the bank-note up to the light.

"I suppose you will warrant this paper to be genuine?" he suggested.

"There is no doubt about it, sir," said the landlord.

"Of course you know from whom you had it?"

"To be sure! I took it of one of my boarders this morning. Captain Wilkins."

"I have no doubt but the bill is good," said the Agent, putting it in his pocket. "You are sure you had it of the Captain?"

"O, yes! 'twasn't an hour ago he gave it to me."

"By the way, who is this Captain Wilkins? He's a very gentlemanly-appearing fellow."

"O, he's a capital fellow!" said the landlord.

"What's his business?"

"He keeps a faro bank."

To a Northern reader, the two clauses of this statement may seem inconsistent with each other. But allowance must be made for the freedom of Southern manners and society. To bet at a faro bank is considered no serious stain upon the honor and respectability of gentlemen in Southern cities. The keeper of a faro bank may pass, as we have seen, for a "capital fellow." But the Agent felt pained to know from what source the landlord had obtained the bill. Already a dark picture of temptation and crime arose before his eyes. It is a significant and too often a tragical word—the Faro Bank!

Captain Wilkins had gone to ride. The Agent pretended to transact a little business, mailed two or three letters, and read the newspapers until his return. The rattling of a light-wheeled buggy before the hotel steps announced the expected arrival.

Captain Wilkins—a soberly-dressed and polite individual, whom one might have taken for a clergyman—stepped out of the vehicle, accompanied by a friend, pulled off his driving-gloves as he entered the house, and lighted a fresh cigar at the bar.

The Agent took an early occasion to accost him.

"Can I speak with you a moment?"

"Certainly," said Captain Wilkins. The two walked aside together. The Agent exhibited the bank-note.

"Did you ever see that paper before?"

"Yes, and very recently. I passed it with the landlord this morning."

"As the bill is of so high a denomination, you probably remember from whom you received it?"

"Perfectly well. I had it last night from one of the post-office clerks, who was betting at my bank, and for whom I changed it."

"May I ask from which one?"

"O, from Carleton. He is a reliable fellow. Have you any doubts about the bill?"

"No, if you are sure you had it of Carleton."

"I am sure of that."

"You could swear to it as the identical bank-note?" Captain Wilkins glanced at the paper again.

"It's the identical rag," said he; "I can take my oath of it."

This startling revelation gave a different phase to the business. The finger of discovery seemed to point directly at the senior clerk. Again the Agent, on leaving Wilkins, recalled Carleton's every look and word, in the conversation he had with him that morning. He could not recall the faintest indication of guilt. And he could not but hope that the young man was as innocent as he appeared; and that circumstances would prove him so. However, there was no way left but to follow the thread of evidence he had so far successfully traced.

He strolled towards the post-office, and found Howard there alone.

"Where is your brother-clerk?" he asked.

"He went to dinner about five minutes ago,—rather earlier than usual."

"Very well; perhaps you can do my business for me. I mailed a letter here this morning, which I would like to recover from the mails, if it has not already gone out." A description of the letter was given. All this was done to prevent Howard from suspecting the Agent's real business with Carleton. The letter had gone, as the inquirer well knew, and he left the office.

But now his pace was quickened. He knew not what might be the result of his interview with Carleton. It was a significant fact that he had gone to dinner at an earlier hour than usual. If guilty, what more natural than that he should take that opportunity of destroying any evidence of his guilt to be found among his papers at home?

The Agent had already learned where Carleton lived, and he hastened at once to his house.

The young man's mother received him in a truly lady-like and hospitable manner.

"He just came in," said she, graciously. "Sit down, I will have him called. He remarked that he had some trifling affair to attend to before dinner, and immediately went to his chamber. You may speak to him, Sarah."

"I have only a word to say to him," replied the visitor. "Perhaps it will be as well for me to go to his room, instead of calling him down."

"As you please. My daughter will show you the way."

Sarah, a beautiful and stately girl of eighteen, conducted the caller to her brother's chamber, and knocked at the door. Presently Carleton appeared. A slight paleness overspread his features on recognising the Agent, but without losing his self-possession, he invited him to enter the chamber.

"I have strange feelings on seeing you!" he observed in a very natural tone of voice. "What you said to me about Howard, has troubled me more than I would have thought it possible. Take a seat. Do you smoke?"

"Not before dinner," replied the Agent. He made a rapid observation of the chamber, as he sat down. "You are very comfortably situated here."

"I have nothing to complain of. We live rather humbly, but we are not ambitious."

Carleton then spoke of his mother and sister, in a manner which touched his visitor deeply. Could it be possible, thought the latter, that he was destined to destroy the peace of that happy family? He shrank with indescribable repugnance from the performance of his duty; but it inexorably urged him to finish what he had begun, and he produced the fatal bank-note.

"Not to detain you," said he, "I have some question in my mind with regard to a bill I took this forenoon. I have been referred to you as the person who passed it. Will you see if you recognise it?"

Again the swift pallor swept over Carleton's face; but this time it was more marked than before, and his fingers trembled as he examined the bill.

"Certainly," said he, "I recognise it. It's a note I changed with Captain Wilkins last night."

"It also happens," observed the Agent, "to be a note which, according to an accurate description I have of it, was recently lost in the Southern mails. This is as painful to me, Mr Carleton, as it is unexpected; and I hope you will be able satisfactorily to account for the manner in which you obtained this money."

"It is still more painful to me than it can be to you," replied Carleton; "and heaven knows I heartily wish I could not tell how that bill came into my possession. I remembered it, after you left me this morning; and I had a presentiment that trouble would come out of it. I am afraid, sir," Carleton added, after some hesitation,—"I am afraid your suspicions of Howard will prove too well founded!"

"Do you mean to say, that Howard is responsible for that bill?"

"I will tell you all I know about it, sir. I yesterday sold a colt I had been training the past season. He proved too high-spirited for our use, and I preferred to own a horse my mother and sister would not be afraid to ride after. I sold it to a neighbor of ours, Mr. Fellows. He was to pay me one hundred dollars down,—and this is the money he gave me."

Carleton hesitated. The Agent begged him to proceed, as no time was to be lost.

"I was trying to recall the conversation that passed between Mr. Fellows and myself. It was to this effect:

"'I'd quite as lief you would give me small bills, if convenient,' said I, 'for I shall have several little sums to pay out of this in a day or two.'

"He replied that he could do no better by me, and added that he thought Howard would like to change it for me. 'How so?' said I.

"'You remember,' said he, 'that Howard bought a house lot of me, some time ago. The last payment came due yesterday. He seemed reluctant to part with this bill, and said if I would wait, he would give me specie for it in a day or two.' Something more was said about Howard's good luck in making payments for the house lot, so promptly, and so we parted."

"Where will I find this Mr. Fellows?" asked the Agent.

"I saw him not ten minutes ago enter a store in the village."

"You are sure he will corroborate your statement?"

"There's no doubt of it. He's a plain, practical man, who tells a straight-forward story."

"Come, then," said the Agent, "we will go and find him."

Carleton readily assented, and the two left the chamber.

"I've a little business to transact before dinner, mother," said the young man, as they passed out. "If I am not back in a quarter of an hour, do not wait for me."

But little difficulty was experienced in finding Mr. Fellows. He was such a person as Carleton had described; but he turned out to be very deaf, and the Agent deemed it expedient to retire with him and Carleton to some secure place, where their loud talking would not be overheard. The clerk proposed that they should make use of the private room of the post-office. The Agent readily agreed to this, for he was somewhat anxious to make sure of Howard; and he now resolved that the latter should be present at the interview. This plan was also proposed by Carleton, and when they had arrived at the post-office, the senior clerk informed the junior, in a low and serious tone, that his presence was requested in the private apartment.

"But who will attend in the office?" asked Howard.

"I'll speak to one of the clerks in the store; they accommodate us very often in this way," Carleton added, addressing the Agent. "It's only around the corner."

The thought struck the Agent that it would be safe enough to accompany Carleton. But to do so, it would be necessary to leave Howard, who, if guilty, might by this time have suspected the danger at hand. Besides, it seemed not at all probable that Carleton could have any motive for attempting an escape. His position in society, his family circumstances, his frank and manly demeanor,—everything tended to disarm suspicion. Furthermore, nothing could be more satisfactory than the story he had related of the manner in which he obtained the fatal bill. He was accordingly suffered to leave the office. As there were persons passing in and out, the Agent did not consider it proper to broach the important subject until Carleton's return.

But some minutes passed, and he did not reappear.

"I thought he said he had only to go around the corner," said the Agent.

"It is probable," Howard replied, "that the boys have gone to dinner. In that case, if your business is important, he has possibly gone to call the post master himself."

A quarter of an hour passed. Carleton had had time to walk to Mr. B.'s house and back, but still he did not make his appearance. The Agent grew uneasy. He waited five minutes longer, then resolved upon a decisive step.

"Mr. Fellows," he cried, in the deaf gentleman's ear, "did you ever see that bill before?" Fortunately, Mr. Fellows' sight was good, though his hearing was bad. He examined the paper without spectacles, and decided at once that he then and there saw it for the first time.

"Did you not buy a horse of Carleton yesterday?"

"No," said Mr. Fellows; "I have talked of selling his mother a pony, but I never bought anything of him."

The truth flashed upon the Agent's understanding. For his credit let it be declared, Carleton had played his game with a consummate art that would have deceived "the very elect."

No time was lost in obtaining traces of the young man's flight. The Agent judged rightly, from his character, that he would not attempt to leave town. He anticipated a more melancholy fate for the unhappy youth. Some inward prompting seemed to direct him to an apothecary's shop not many doors distant, and on inquiry he learned that Carleton had just been there.

"Which way did he go?"

"In fact, I am not certain he has gone," said the druggist. "He purchased some medicines, remarking that he wished to write out some directions for its use, and stepped into the back room. I have been very busy, and he may have passed out without my seeing him."

The Agent sprang forward. The door was locked upon the inside.

"What medicine did you sell him?" asked the Agent.

"Oh! you needn't be alarmed, he has studied medicine, and knows how to use these things."

"He knows how to use them too well! This door must be forced. His life depends upon it,—if it is not already too late!"

Too late, indeed, it was!

On breaking into the room, Carleton was found lying upon the floor, with an empty vial beside him, and an unfinished letter to his sister on the table.

In that letter he confessed his guilt, and besought his sister not only to support the mortal affliction he had brought upon her, with fortitude, but also to sustain and console their mother. The young man was not yet dead. Medical assistance was speedily procured, but all efforts to save his life proved unavailing. He was already past consciousness, and never spoke again.

A veil should be drawn to exclude the scene of horror, agony, and distress that awaited his family. The brokenhearted mother survived the tragical interruption of her late happy days but a few months. And though the sister was afterwards happily married, it is said that, from the date of her brother's disgraceful end, a continual cloud of melancholy rested upon her mind during the remainder of her life. She has since passed into that land where kindred souls are destined to meet again; and these allusions to her sad family history will give her no pain.

The secret of Carleton's lapse from virtue is soon told; and the lesson is one that every youth, who considers himself secure from temptation, should heed and carefully remember. The devil never boldly enters the citadel of rectitude, at the outset. He first walks around, and passes by; then holds a parley, and "makes the worse appear the better reason;" and ends by gaining permission to walk in just once, promising thenceforward to cease his solicitations, and keep aloof. But once admitted, he goes artfully to work to destroy all our defences, and before we are aware of it, he is a permanent occupant of the castle.

Such was undoubtedly Carleton's experience. He was not a hardened sinner. He was truly a man of generous and noble impulses. But little transgressions of the stern law of conscience had in his boyhood weakened his moral force, and prepared him for more serious offences. Then, in an unguarded hour, he formed an attachment for a fascinating, but gay and heartless woman, under whose influences his soul fell from the truth and purity of manhood. It was her hand which indirectly administered the deadly drug that destroyed his life. To meet her necessities for dress and dissipations, he resorted to the faro bank. Although fortunate at first, he afterwards lost extensively, and became pecuniarily embarrassed. He borrowed money, which he was unable to return. Only one course seemed open to him, to save his honor in the public eye. At first, he purloined cautiously and abstemiously from the mails, hoping, no doubt, that success at the faro bank would swell those unlawful gains, and cancel the necessity for further depredations.

But let us not pursue the sad topic. The end we have seen, and we will hasten to turn the last leaf of this melancholy chapter.