One morning as he sat sipping his coffee, clad only in loose cotton drawers and a jacket of the same material, and with slippers upon his feet (as is the custom in that country, where every one endeavors to keep as cool as may be), Miss Eliza, the youngest of the three daughters—­a brisk, handsome miss of sixteen or seventeen—­came tripping into the room and handed him a sealed letter, which she declared a stranger had just left at the door, departing incontinently so soon as he had eased himself of that commission.  You may conceive of Barnaby’s astonishment when he opened the note and read the remarkable words that here follow: 

“Mr. Barnaby True.

“Sir,—­Though you don’t know me, I know you, and I tell you this:  if you will be at Pratt’s Ordinary on Friday next at eight o’clock in the evening, and will accompany the man who shall say to you, ’The Royal Sovereign is come in’ you shall learn of something the most to your advantage that ever befell you.  Sir, keep this note and give it to him who shall address those words to you, so to certify that you are the man he seeks.  Sir, this is the most important thing that can concern you, so you will please say nothing to nobody about it.”

Such was the wording of the note which was writ in as cramped and villanous handwriting as our hero ever beheld, and which, excepting his own name, was without address, and which possessed no superscription whatever.

The first emotion that stirred Barnaby True was one of extreme and profound astonishment; the second thought that came into his mind was that maybe some witty fellow—­of whom he knew a good many in that place, and wild, mad rakes they were as ever the world beheld—­was attempting to play off a smart, witty jest upon him.  Indeed, Miss Eliza Bolles, who was of a lively, mischievous temper, was not herself above playing such a prank should the occasion offer.  With this thought in his mind Barnaby inquired of her with a good deal of particularity concerning the appearance and condition of the man who had left the note, to all of which Miss replied with so straight a face and so candid an air that he could no longer suspect her of being concerned in any trick against him, and so eased his mind of any such suspicion.  The bearer of the note, she informed him, was a tall, lean man, with a red neckerchief tied around his neck and with copper buckles to his shoes, and he had the appearance of a sailor-man, having a great queue of red hair hanging down his back.  But, Lord! what was such a description as that in a busy seaport town full of scores of men to fit such a likeness?  Accordingly, our hero put the note away into his wallet, determining to show it to his good friend Mr. Greenfield that evening, and to ask his advice upon it.

This he did, and that gentleman’s opinion was the same as his:  to wit, that some wag was minded to play off a hoax upon him, and that the matter of the letter was all nothing but smoke.