"But if you shall prefer a public inquiry, then publish this present
writing in the local paper--with these instructions added, to wit: Thirty
days from now, let the candidate appear at the town-hall at eight in the
evening (Friday), and hand his remark, in a sealed envelope, to the Rev.
Mr. Burgess (if he will be kind enough to act); and let Mr. Burgess there
and then destroy the seals of the sack, open it, and see if the remark is
correct: if correct, let the money be delivered, with my sincere
gratitude, to my benefactor thus identified."
Mrs. Richards sat down, gently quivering with excitement, and was soon
lost in thinkings--after this pattern: "What a strange thing it is!
. . . And what a fortune for that kind man who set his bread afloat upon
the waters! . . . If it had only been my husband that did it!--for we are
so poor, so old and poor! . . ." Then, with a sigh--"But it was not my
Edward; no, it was not he that gave a stranger twenty dollars. It is a
pity too; I see it now. . . ." Then, with a shudder--"But it is GAMBLERS'
money! the wages of sin; we couldn't take it; we couldn't touch it.
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