"You need not speak, my dear, I know."

"I shall be faithful to my husband, Mr. Jefferson."

The old man nodded.

"Captain Lewis knows that also. He would be the last to wish it otherwise. But, since it was his misfortune to set his regard upon one so fair as yourself, and since fate goes so hard for a strong man like him, then I must admit it needed strong medicine for his case. I sent him away, yes. Would you ask him back--for any cause?"

In turn she laid a small hand upon the President's arm.

"Only for himself--for that reason alone, Mr. Jefferson, and not to change your plans--for himself, because you love him. Oh, sir, even the greatest courts sometimes arrest their judgment if there is new evidence to be introduced. At the last moment justice gives a condemned man one more chance."

"What is it, Theodosia?" he said quietly. "I do not grasp all this."

"Able men say that this government cannot take advantage of the sale of Louisiana to us by Napoleon--that our Const.i.tution prevents our taking over a foreign territory already populated to make into new States of our own----"

"Good, my learned counsel--say on!"

"Forgive my weak wit--I only try to say this as I heard it, well and plainly."

"As well as any man, my dear! Go on."

"Therefore, even if Captain Lewis does go forward, he can only fail at the last. This is what is said by the Federalists, by your enemies."

"And perhaps by certain of my own party not Federalists--by Colonel Aaron Burr, for instance!" Thomas Jefferson smiled grimly.

"Yes!" She spoke firmly and with courage.

"I cannot pause to inquire what my enemies say, my dear lady. But in what way could this effect our friend, Captain Lewis? He is under orders, on my errand."

"I saw him this very morning--I took my reputation in my hands--I followed him--I urged him, I implored him to stop!"

"Yes? And did he?"

"Not for an instant. Ah, I see you smile! I might have known he would not. He said that nothing but word from you could induce him to hesitate for a moment."

"My dear young lady, I said to Captain Lewis that no report from any source would cause me for an instant to doubt his loyalty to me. If anything could shake him in his loyalty, it would be his regard for you yourself; but since I trust his honor and your own, I do not fear that such a conflict can ever occur!"

She did not reply. After a time the President went on gently:

"My dear, would you wish him to come back--would you condemn him further to the tortures of the d.a.m.ned? And would you halt him while he is trying to do his duty as a man and a soldier? What benefit to you?"

She drew up proudly.

"What benefit, indeed, to me? Do you think I would ask this for myself? No, it was for _him_--it was for _his_ welfare only that I dared to come to you. And you will not hear new evidence?"

But now she was speaking to Thomas Jefferson, the President of the United States, man of affairs as well, man of firm will and clear-cut decision.

"Madam," said he, coldly, "in this office we do a thing but once. Had I condemned yonder young man to his death--and perhaps I have--I would not now reconsider that decision. I would not speak so long as this over it, did I not know and love you both--yes, and grieve over you both; but what is written is written."

His giant hand fell lightly, but with firmness, on the desk at his side. The inexorableness of a great will was present in the room as an actual thing. Tears swam in her eyes.

"You would not hear what was the actual cause of my wish for him----"

"No, my dear! We have made our plans."

"There are other plans afoot these days, Mr. Jefferson."

"Tut, tut! Are you my enemy, too? Oh, yes, I know there are enemies enough in wait for me and my administration on every side. Yes, I know a plan--I know of many such. But one thing also I do know, madam, and it is this--not all the enemies on this earth can alter me one iota in this undertaking on which I have sent Captain Lewis. As against that magnificent adventure there is nothing can be offered as an offset, nothing that can halt it for an instant. No reward to him or me--nay, no reward to any other human being--shall stop his advancement in that purpose which he shares with me. If he fails, I fail with him--and all my life as well!"

She rose now, calm before the imperious quality of his nature, so unlike his former gentleness.

"You refuse, then, Mr. Jefferson? You will not reopen this case?"

"I refuse nothing to you gladly, my dear lady. But you have seen him--you have tested him. Did he turn back? Shall I, his friend and his chief, halt him at such a time? Now that were the worst kindness to him in the world. And I am convinced that you and I both plan only kindness for him."

Suddenly he saw the tears in her eyes. At once he was back again, the courteous gentleman.

"Do not weep, Theodosia, my child," said he. "Let me kiss you, as your father or your grandfather would--one who holds you tenderly in his heart. Forgive me that I pa.s.s sentence on you both, but you must part--you must not ask him back. There now, my dear, do not weep, or you will make me weep. Let me kiss you for him--and let us all go on about our duties in the world. My dear, good-by! You must go."

CHAPTER X

THE THRESHOLD OF THE WEST

Meriwether Lewis, having put behind him one set of duties, now addressed himself to another, and did so with care and thoroughness. A few of his men, a part of his outfitting, he found already a.s.sembled at Harper's Ferry, up the Potomac. Before sunset of the first day the little band knew they had a leader.

There was not a knife or a tomahawk of the entire equipment which he himself did not examine--not a rifle which he himself did not personally test. He went over the boxes and bales which had been gathered here, and saw to their arrangement in the transport-wagons.

He did all this without bl.u.s.ter or officiousness, but with the quiet care and thoroughness of the natural leader of men.

In two days they were on their way across the Alleghanies. A few days more of steady travel sufficed to bring them to Pittsburgh, the head of navigation on the Ohio River, and at that time the American capital in the upper valley of the West. At Pittsburgh Captain Lewis was to build his boats, to complete the details of his equipment, to take on additional men for his party--now to be officially styled the Volunteers for the Discovery of the West. He lost no time in urging forward the necessary work.

The young adventurer found this inland town half maritime in its look.

Its sh.o.r.es were lined with commerce suited to a seaport. Schooners of considerable tonnage lay at the wharfs, others were building in the busy shipyards. The destination of these craft obviously was down the Mississippi, to the sea. Here were vessels bound for the West Indies, bound for Philadelphia, for New York, for Boston--carrying the products of this distant and little-known interior.

As he looked at this commerce of the great West, pondered its limitations, saw its trend with the down-slant of the perpetual roadway to the sea, there came to the young officer's mind with greater force certain arguments that had been advanced to him.

He saw that here was the heart of America, realized how natural was the insistence of all these hardy Western men upon the free use of the Mississippi and its tributaries. He easily could agree with Aaron Burr that, had the fleet of Napoleon ever sailed from Haiti--had Napoleon ever done otherwise than to cede Louisiana to us--then these boats from the Ohio and the Mississippi would at this very moment, perhaps, be carrying armed men down to take New Orleans, as so often they had threatened.

There came, however, to his mind not the slightest thought of alteration in his own plans. With him it was no question of what might have been, but of what actually was. The cession by Napoleon had been made, and Louisiana was ours. It was time to plot for expeditions, not down the great river, but across it, beyond it, into that great and unknown country that lay toward the farther sea.

The keen zest of this vast enterprise came to him as a stimulus--the feel of the new country was as the breath of his nostrils. His bosom swelled with joy as he looked out toward that West which had so long allured him--that West of which he was to be the discoverer. The carousing riffraff of the wharfs, the flotsam and jetsam of the river trade, were to him but pa.s.sing phenomena. He shouldered his way among them indifferently. He walked with a larger vision before his eyes.

Now, too, he had news--good news, fortunate news, joyous news--none less than the long-delayed answer of his friend, Captain William Clark, to his proposal that he should a.s.sociate himself with the Volunteers for the Discovery of the West. Misspelled, scrawled, done in the hieroglyphics which marked that remarkable gentleman, William Clark's letter carried joy to the heart of Meriwether Lewis. It cemented one of the most astonishing partnerships ever known among men, one of the most beautiful friendships of which history leaves note. Let us give the strange epistle in Clark's own spelling:

DEAR MERNE: