You have spoken beautifully to me at times--you have awakened some feeling of what images a woman may make in a man's heart. I have been no more to you than any woman is to any man--the image of a dream.

But, that being so beautiful, ought I to allow you to turn it to ruin?

Shall I let you go down in savagery? Ah, if I thought I were relinquishing you to that, this would be a heavy day for me!"

"Can you fancy what all this means to me?" he broke out hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes, I can fancy. And what for me? So much my feeling for you has been--oh, call it what you like--admiration, affection, maternal tenderness--I do not know what--but so much have I wished, so much have I planned for your future in return for what you have given me--ah, I do not dare tell you. I could not dare come here if I did not know that I was never to see or speak to you again. It tears my heart from my bosom that I must say these things to you. I have risked all my honor in your hands. Is there no reward for that? Is my recompense to be only your a.s.sertion that I torment you, that I torture you? What! Is there no torture for me as well? The thought that I have done this covertly, secretly--what do you think that costs me?"

"Your secret is absolutely safe with me, Theodosia. No, it is not a secret! We have sworn that neither of us would lay a secret upon the other. I swear that to you once more."

"And yet you upbraid me when I say I cannot give you up to any fate but that of happiness and success--oh, not with me, for that is beyond us two--it is past forever. But happiness----"

"There are some words that burn deep," he said slowly. "I know that I was not made for happiness."

"Does a woman's wish mean nothing to you? Have I no appeal for you?"

Something like a sob was torn from his bosom.

"You can speak thus with me?" he said huskily. "If you cannot leave me happiness, can you not at least leave me partial peace of mind?"

She stood slightly swaying, silent.

"And you say you will not relinquish me, you will not let me go to that fate which surely is mine? You say you will not let me be savage?

I say I am too nearly savage now. Let me go--let me go yonder into the wilderness, where I may be a gentleman!"

He saw her movement as she turned, heard her sigh.

"Sometimes," she said, "I have thought it worth a woman's life thrown away that a strong man may succeed. Failure and sacrifice a woman may offer--not much more. But it is as my father told me!"

"He told you what?"

"That only chivalry would ever make you forget your duty--that you never could be approached through your weakness, but only through your strength, through your honor. I cannot approach you through your strength, and I would not approach you through your weakness, even if I could. No! Wait. Perhaps some day it will all be made clear for both of us, so that we may understand. Yes, this is torture for us both!"

He heard the soft rustle of her gown, her light footfall as she pa.s.sed; and once more he was alone.

CHAPTER XI

THE TAMING OF PATRICK Ga.s.s

"Shannon, go get the men!"

It was midnight. For more than an hour Meriwether Lewis had sat, his head drooped, in silence.

"We are going to start?" Shannon's face lightened eagerly. "We'll be off at sunup?"

"Before that. Get the men--we'll start now! I'll meet you at the wharf."

Eager enough, Shannon hastened away on his midnight errand. Within an hour every man of the little party was at the water front, ready for departure. They found their leader walking up and down, his head bent, his hands behind him.

It was short work enough, the completion of such plans as remained unfinished. The great keel-boat lay completed and equipped at the wharf. The men lost little time in stowing such casks and bales as remained unshipped. Shannon stepped to his chief.

"All's aboard, sir," said he. "Shall we cast off?"

Without a word Lewis nodded and made his way to his place in the boat.

In the darkness, without a shout or a cheer to mark its pa.s.sing, the expedition was launched on its long journey.

Slowly the boat pa.s.sed along the waterfront of Pittsburgh town. Here rose gauntly, in the glare of torch or camp fire, the mast of some half-built schooner. Houseboats were drawn up or anch.o.r.ed alongsh.o.r.e, long pirogues lay moored or beached, or now and again a giant broadhorn, already partially loaded with household goods, common carrier for that human flood pa.s.sing down the great waterway, stood out blacker than the shadows in which it lay.

Here and there camp fires flickered, each the center of a ribald group of the hardy rivermen. Through the night came sounds of roistering, songs, shouts. Arrested, pent, dammed up, the l.u.s.ty life of that great waterway leading into the West and South scarce took time for sleep.

The boat slipped on down, now crossing a shaft of light flung on the water from some lamp or fire, now blending with the ghostlike shadows which lay in the moonless night. It pa.s.sed out of the town itself, and edged into the shade of the forest that swept continuously for so many leagues on ahead.

"h.e.l.lo, there!" called a voice through the darkness, after a time.

"Who goes there?"

The splash of a sweep had attracted the attention of someone on sh.o.r.e.

The light of a camp fire showed.

Every one in the boat looked at the leader, but none vouchsafed a reply to the hail.

"Ahoy there, the boat!" insisted the same voice.

"Shall I fire on yez to make yez answer a civil question? Come ash.o.r.e wance--I can lick the best of yez in three minutes, or me name's not Patrick Ga.s.s!"

The captain of the boat turned slowly in his seat, casting a glance over his silent crew.

"Set in!" said he, sharply and shortly.

Without a word they obeyed, and with oar and steering-sweep the great craft slowly swung insh.o.r.e.

Lewis stepped from the boat, and, not waiting to see whether he was followed--as he was by all of his men--strode on up the bank into the circle of light made by the camp fire. About the fire lay a dozen or more men of the hardest of the river type, which was saying quite enough; for of all the lawless and desperate characters of the frontier, none have ever surpa.s.sed in reckless audacity and truculence the men of the old boat trade of the Ohio and the Mississippi.

These fellows lay idly looking at Lewis as he entered the light, not troubling to accost him.

"Who hailed us?" demanded the latter shortly.

"Begorrah, 'twas me," said a short, strongly built man, stepping forward from the other side of the fire.

Clad in loose shirt and trousers, like most of his comrades, he showed a powerful man, a shock of reddish hair falling over his eyes, a bull-like neck rising above his open shirt in such fashion that the size of his shoulder muscles might easily be seen.

"'Twas me hailed yez, and what of it?"

"That is what I came ash.o.r.e to learn," said Meriwether Lewis. "We are about our business. What concern is that of yours? I am here to learn."

"Yez can learn, if ye're so anxious," replied the other. "'Tis me have got three drinks of Monongahaly in me that says I can whip you or anny man of your boat. And if that aint cause for ye to come ash.o.r.e, 'tis no fighting man ye are, an' I'll say that to your face!"