fice
has any business with it until it reaches its address."

The captain was not a man to be daunted, even by a postmaster. A bright
idea struck him. He took out his pocketbook, in which Admiral Bartram's
address was written, and returned to the charge.

"Suppose a letter has been wrongly directed by mistake?" he began. "And
suppose the writer wants to correct the error after the letter is put
into the box?"

"When a letter is once posted, sir," reiterated the impenetrable
local authority, "nobody out of the office touches it on any pretense
whatever."

"Granted, with all my heart," persisted the captain. "I don't want to
touch it--I only want to explain myself. A lady has posted a letter
here, addressed to 'Noel Vanstone, Esq., Admiral Bartram's, St.
Crux-in-the-Marsh, Essex.' She wrote in a great hurry, and she is not
quite certain whether she added the name of the post-town, 'Ossory.' It
is of the last importance that the delivery of the letter should not be
delayed. What is to hinder your facilitating the post-office work, and
obliging a lady, by adding the name of the post-town (if it happens to
be left out), with your own hand? I put it to you as a zealous officer,
what possible objection can there be to granting my request?"

The postmaster was compelled to acknowledge that there could be no
objection, provided nothing but a necessary line was added to the
address, provided nobody touched the letter but himself, and provided
the precious time of the post-office was not suffered to run to waste.
As there happened to be nothing particular to do at that moment, he
would readily oblige the lady at Mr. Bygrave's request.

Captain Wragge watched the postmaster's hands, as they sorted the
letters in the box, with breathless eagerness. Was the letter there?
Would the hands of the zealous public servant suddenly stop? Yes! They
stopped, and picked out a letter from the rest.

"'Noel Vanstone, Esquire,' did you say?" asked the postmaster, keeping
the letter in his own hand.

"'Noel Vanstone, Esquire,'" replied the captain, "'Admiral Bartram's,
St. Crux-in-the-Marsh.'"

"Ossory, Essex," chimed in the postmaster, throwing the letter back
into the box. "The lady has made no mistake, sir. The address is quite
right."

Nothing but a timely consideration of the heavy debt he owed to
appearances prevented Captain Wragge from throwing his tall white hat up
in the air as soon as he found the street once more. All furt