be
at hand when the demand arises for it, and why do these
uncouth-looking men bring it at the dead of night? It would have been
easier, and certainly more pleasant, to have brought it in the
daylight.'

"'My dear little sweetheart,' he turned and said abruptly, 'women know
nothing of business matters, and you would not understand me if I
explained it all.'

"'You are deceiving me; for it does not require a business education
to enable one to guess that there might be something wrong about a
midnight transaction such as this.'

"He deigned no explanation, but answered half kindly, half
sarcastically, 'Good night; ask no more of your puzzling questions.
Take this kiss; you are a little nervous and disturbed in temper, you
need rest--go to bed.'

"He dismissed me with another kiss, as he had often done before. It
was the first to have a tinge of bitterness to it. I was far from
satisfied. What could this occupation be, that required him to remain
away so long and gather about him such associates? He had been gone a
whole month. Oh, what a weary, unhappy, dreary month that was for
me!--I thought it would never end. Why could not the fates let loose
their wrath all at once? Why was not all revealed? I wept myself
asleep, and was frightened into wakefulness by some horrid dream. I
took up the newspaper and tried to read it; the letters all ran
together. It was the Alexandria _Times and Advertiser_, of May, 1798.
Instinctively my eyes caught the following notice:

"_Counterfeit Dollars._ The public are requested to be on
their guard with respect to a number of counterfeit dollars
of the United States, now passing in this city. They are
made of block-tin and pewter, and, if not quite new, may be
detected on sight. They are well cast, and, therefore, the
impression is exact; but the milling around the edge is
nothing like the true dollar, thereby may be easily known.
They are about four penny-weights too light."

"The paper fell from my hands. Why I could not tell, and yet the
reading of that paragraph seemed connected with my life. Had that box
merchandise in it? Had my husband become one of a gang of base money
coiners? He could not have fallen so low; he was too good and too
honest. That mysterious box was always present, turn which way I
would. I felt impelled to go to the cellar and examine it. There could
be no harm in merely looking; it would ease my troubled brain. I too