Part 24

At last she started up, saying: "Why, René, thou hast not had thy dinner, and now, as we did not look for thee, it is long over. Come in at once."

"Dear Pearl," he said, "I am better let alone. I do not need anything." He wished to be left by himself to brood over the cruel wrong of the morning, and with any one but Pearl he would have shown some sense of irritation at her persistence.

The wild creatures are tamed by starvation, the animal man by good feeding. This fact is the sure possession of every kindly woman; and so it was that De Courval went meekly to the house and was fed,--as was indeed needed,--and having been fed, with the girl watching him, was better in body and happier in mind.

He went at once into Schmidt's study and wrote to Hamilton, while Margaret, sitting in her room at the eastward window, cried a little and smiled between the tears and wondered at the ways of men.

What she said to her mother may be easily guessed. The vicomtesse was as usual at the evening meal, where René exerted himself to talk of his journey to Mrs. Swanwick, less interested than was her way.

The day drew to a close. The shadows came with coolness in the air. The endless embroidery went on, the knitting needles clicked, and a little later in the dusk, Margaret smiled as René went down the garden to the river, a towel on his arm.

"I did him good," she murmured proudly.

Later in the evening they were of one mind that it was well to keep their engagement secret, above all, not to confide it to their relatives or to Miss Wynne until there was some satisfactory outcome of the serious charge which had caused Randolph to act as he had done.

XXVI

Mr. Hamilton's reply came in five days. He would come at once. De Courval's friends, Bingham and Wynne, had heard his story, and thought he did well to resign, while Wynne advised him to come to Merion for a week or two. His other adviser would not have even the appearance of flight.

"Above all," said Margaret, "go about as usual. Thou must not avoid people, and after Mr. Hamilton comes and is gone, think of Merion if it so please thee, or I can let thee go. Aunt Gainor was here in one of her fine tempers yesterday. I am jealous of her, Monsieur de Courval. And she has her suspicions."

He took her advice, and saw too easily that he was the observed of many; for in the city he had long been a familiar personality, with his clean-shaven, handsome face and the erect figure, which showed the soldier's training. He was, moreover, a favorite, especially with the older men and women, so that not all the looks he met were either from hostile, cockaded Jacobins or from the merely curious.

Mr. Thomas Cadwalader stopped him, and said that at need he was at his service, if he desired to call out the minister or the Secretary. Mrs. Byrd, both curious and kind, would have him to come and tell her all about it, which he was little inclined to do.

He took Margaret's wholesome advice, and swam and rode, and was in a calmer state of mind, and even happy at the greetings of those in the fencing school, where were some whom, out of his slender means, he had helped. They told him gleefully how de Malerive had given up the ice-cream business for a morning to quiet for a few weeks an Irish Democrat who had said of the vicomte unpleasant things; and would he not fence! "Yes, now," he said smiling, and would use the pistol no more.

Mr. Hamilton came as he had promised. "I must return to New York," he said, "to-morrow. I have heard from Schmidt. He may not come very soon; but I wrote him fully, on hearing from you. He will be sure to come soon or late, but meanwhile I have asked General Washington to see you with me. It may, indeed, be of small present use, but I want him to hear you--your own account of this affair. So far he has had only what Mr. Randolph has been pleased to tell him. I made it a personal favor. Let us go. The cabinet meeting will be over."

René thanked him and not altogether assured that any good would result from this visit, walked away with Hamilton, the two men attracting some attention. The President at this time lived on High Street, in the former house of Robert Morris, near to Sixth Street. They were shown into the office room on the right, which De Courval knew well, and where Genêt, the Jacobin minister, had been insulted by the medallions of the hapless king and queen.

In a few minutes the President entered. He bowed formally, and said, "Pray be seated, Vicomte. I have been asked, sir, by Mr. Hamilton to hear you. As you are not now in the service, I am pleased to allow myself the pleasure to do so, although I have thought it well to advise Mr. Randolph of my intention. Your case has been before the cabinet, but as yours was a position solely in the gift of the Secretary of State, I--or we, have felt that his appointments should lie wholly within his control."

"And of disappointments, also, I suppose," said Hamilton, smiling, a privileged person.

Little open to appreciation of humor, no smile came upon the worn face of the President. He turned to Hamilton as he spoke, and then went on addressing De Courval, and speaking, as was his way, with deliberate slowness. "I have given this matter some personal consideration because, although Mr. Secretary Randolph has acted as to him seemed best, you have friends who, to be frank with you, feel desirous that I should be informed by you in person of what took place. I am willing to oblige them. You are, it seems, unfortunate. There are two serious charges, an assault and--pardon me--the seizure of a despatch. May I be allowed to ask you certain questions?"

"I shall be highly honored, sir."

"This, I am given to understand, was a personal quarrel."

"Yes, your Excellency."

"What the law may say of the matter, I do not know. What concerns us most is the despatch. In what I say I desire, sir, to be considered open to correction. When, as I am told, you followed Mr. Carteaux, intending a very irregular duel, did you know that he carried a despatch?"

"I did not until Mr. Schmidt found it. Then the man was cared for, and I delivered his papers to their destination."

"I regret, sir, to hear that of this you have no proof. Here your word suffices. Outside of these walls it has been questioned."

"I have no proof,--none of any value,--nor can I ever hope to prove that I did what my own honor and my duty to the administration required."

Hamilton listened intently while the aging, tired face of the President for a moment seemed lost in reflection. Then the large, blue eyes were lifted as he said, "At present this matter seems hopeless, sir, but time answers many questions." Upon this he turned to Hamilton. "There are two persons involved. Who, sir, is this Mr. Schmidt? I am told that he has left the country; in fact, has fled."

For a moment Hamilton was embarrassed. "I can vouch for him as my friend. He was called to Germany on a matter of moment. At present I am not at liberty to reply to you more fully. He is sure to return, and then I may,--indeed, I am sure, will be more free to answer you frankly.

"But if so, what value will his evidence have? None, I conceive, as affecting the loss of the despatch. If that charge were disproved, the political aspect of the matter would become unimportant. The affair, so far as the duel is concerned, would become less serious."

"It seems so to me," said Hamilton. "The Democrats are making the most of it, and the English Federalists are doing harm by praising my young friend for what he did not do and never would have done. They were mad enough in New York to propose a dinner to the vicomte."

The President rose. "I do not think it advisable, Mr. Hamilton, to pursue this matter further at present; nor, sir, do I apprehend that any good can result for this gentleman from my willingness to gratify your wish that I should see him."

"We shall detain your Excellency no longer."

The President was never fully at ease when speaking, and owing to a certain deliberateness in speech, was thought to be dull when in company and, perhaps through consciousness of a difficulty in expression, was given to silence, a disposition fostered, no doubt, by the statesman's long disciplined need for reticence.

After Hamilton had accepted the President's rising as a signal of their audience being over, René, seeing that the general did not at once move toward the door, waited for Hamilton. The ex-Secretary, however, knew well the ways of his friend and stood still, aware that the President was slowly considering what further he desired to say.

The pause was strange to De Courval as he stood intently watching the tall figure in black velvet, and the large features on which years of war and uneasy peace had left their mark.

Then with more than his usual animation, the President came nearer to De Courval: "I have myself, sir, often had to bide on time for full justification of my actions. While you are in pursuit of means to deal with the suspicions arising, permit me to say, from your own imprudence you will have to bear in silence what men say of you. I regret, to conclude, that I cannot interfere in this matter. I discover it to be more agreeable to say to you that personally I entirely believe you. But this you must consider as spoken 'under the rose'"--a favorite expression. De Courval flushed with joy, and could say no more than: "I thank you. You have helped me to wait."

The general bowed, and at the door, as they were passing out, said: "I shall hope to see you again in the service, and you must not think of retiring permanently from the work which you have done so well. I remind myself that I have not yet thanked you for your report. It has greatly relieved my mind." On this he put out his hand, over which René bowed in silent gratitude, and with a last look at the weary face of the man whose life had been one long sacrifice to duty, he went away, feeling the strengthening influence of a great example.

As they reached the street, René said, "How just he is, and how clear!"

"Yes. A slowly acting mind, but sure--and in battle, in danger, swift, decisive, and reckless of peril. Are you satisfied?"

"Yes, I am. I shall be, even though this matter is never cleared up."

"It will be. He said so, and I have long since learned to trust his foresight. In all my long experience of the man, I have scarcely ever heard him speak at such length. You may live to see many men in high places; you will never see a greater than George Washington. I know him as few know him."

He was silent for a moment, and then added, "When I was young and hasty, and thought more of Alexander Hamilton than I do to-day, he forgave me an outburst of youthful impertinence which would have made a vainer man desire to see no more of me." De Courval, a less quick-tempered character, wondered that any one should have taken a liberty with the man they had just left.

"But now I must leave you," said Hamilton. "If Schmidt returns, he will land in New York, and I shall come hither with him. Have you seen the new paper, the 'Aurora'? Mr. Bache has taken up the task Freneau dropped--of abusing the President."

"No, I have not seen it. I suppose now it is the English treaty. It will interest me no longer."

"Oh, for a time, for a time. Between us, the President has sent it to the Senate. It will leak out. He will sign it with a reservation as concerns the English claim to seize provisions meant for French ports. Do not speak of it. Randolph is striving to strengthen the President's scruples with regard to a not altogether satisfactory treaty, but, on the whole, the best we can get. It will be signed and will be of great service. Keep this to yourself, and good-by. Randolph is too French for me. I may have said to you once that if we had a navy, it is not peace that the President would desire."

De Courval hastened home to pour into the ear of Margaret so much of his interview as he felt free to speak of.

"My mother," she said, "would speak to thee of me, René." But he asked that she would wait, and his sense of satisfaction soon gave place, as was natural, to a return of depression, which for a time left him only when in the company of Margaret. Her mother, usually so calm, did most uneasily wait while the days went by, but made no effort to interfere with the lovers.

On the 9th of August, at evening, Margaret and René were seated in the garden when of a sudden René leaped up with a cry of joyous welcome, as he saw Schmidt, large, bronzed and laughing, on the porch.

"_Du Guter Himmel!_" he cried, "but I am content to be here. I have good news for you. _Ach_, let me sit down. Now listen. But first, is it all right, children!"

"May I tell him in my way, René?"

"Yes, of course; but what is your way?"

"This is my way," said Margaret, and bending over, as the German sat on the grass at her feet, she kissed him, saying, "as yet no one knows."

"I am answered, Pearl, and now listen. This morning I met Mr. Randolph and Mr. Hamilton with the President. That was best before seeing you. Mr. Randolph was silent while I told the general plainly the story of your duel. _Ach_, but he has the trick of silence! A good one, too. When I had ended, he said, 'I am to be pardoned, sir, if I ask who in turn will vouch for you as a witness?'"

"Then I said, 'With my apologies to these gentlemen, may I be allowed a brief interview alone with your Excellency, or, rather, may I ask also for Mr. Hamilton to be present?' 'With your permission, Mr. Randolph,' the President said, and showed us into a small side room. There I told him."

"Told him what?" asked Margaret.

"Your husband may tell you, my dear, when you are married. I may as well permit it, whether I like it or not. You would get it out of him."

"I should," she said; "but--it is dreadful to have to wait."

"On our return, his Excellency said, 'Mr. Randolph, I am satisfied as regards the correctness of the Vicomte de Courval's account of Mr. Carteaux's treachery and of the vicomte's ignorance of his errand. Mr. Gouverneur sends me by Mr. Schmidt a letter concerning the despatch.'

"Then Randolph asked quietly: 'Did he see it, sir?'

"'He knows that the vicomte delivered a packet of papers to the _Jean Bart_.'

"'And without receipt for them or other evidence?'

"'Yes. It so seems.'

"'Then I regret to say that all we have heard appears to me, sir, to leave the matter where it was.'

"'Not quite. Mr. Fauchet is out of office and about to go home. Carteaux, as Mr. Hamilton can tell you, refused to be questioned, and has sailed for France. Adet, the new minister, will not urge the matter. You must pardon me, but, as it appears to me, an injustice has been done.'

"Randolph said testily: 'It is by no means clear to me, and until we hear of that despatch, it never will be.'

"This smileless old man said, 'I am not free to speak of what Mr. Schmidt has confided to me, but it satisfies me fully.' Then he waited to hear what Randolph would say."

"And he?" said René, impatient.

"Oh, naturally enough he was puzzled and I thought annoyed, but said, 'I presume, Mr. President, it is meant that I ought to offer this young man the position he forfeited?'

"'That, sir,' said the President, 'is for you to decide.'

"Then Mr. Hamilton, who can be as foxy as Jefferson, said in a careless way, 'I think I should wait a little.'

"The moment he said that, I knew what would happen. Randolph said, 'Pardon me, Mr. Hamilton, I prefer to conduct the affairs of my department without aid.' They love not one another, these two. 'I am of the President's opinion. I shall write to the Vicomte de Courval.'

"Mr. Hamilton did seem to me to amuse himself. He smiled a little and said: 'A pity to be in such a hurry. Time will make it all clearer.' Randolph made no reply. You will hear from him to-morrow."

"I shall not accept," said René.

"Yes, you must. It is a full answer to all criticism, and after what the President has said, you cannot refuse."

"Mr. Schmidt is right, René," said Margaret. "Thou must take the place."

"Good, wise little counselor!" said the German. "He will write you a courteous note, René. He has had, as Hamilton says, enough differences with the chief to make him willing to oblige him in a minor matter. You must take it."

At last, it being so agreed, Schmidt went in to see Mrs. Swanwick and to relieve her as concerned a part, at least, of her troubles. The rest he would talk about later.

Even the vicomtesse was so good as to be pleased, and the evening meal was more gay than usual.

The next morning René received the following note:

DEAR SIR: My opinion in regard to the matter under discussion of late having been modified somewhat, and the President favoring my

## action, it gives me pleasure to offer you the chance to return to

the office.

I have the honor to be,

Your obedient friend and servant,

EDMUND RANDOLPH.

Schmidt laughed as he read it. "He does not like it. The dose is bitter. He thinks you will say no. But you will write simply, and accept with pleasure."

"Yes, I see. I shall do as you say." He sent a simple note of acceptance. A visit to the office of state settled the matter, and on the day but one after receipt of the letter, René was well pleased to be once more at his desk and busy.

Meanwhile Schmidt had been occupied with long letters to Germany and his affairs in the city, but in the evening of the 12th of August, they found time for one of their old talks.

"This matter of yours, and in fact of mine, René, does not fully satisfy me. I still hear much about it, and always of that infernal despatch."

"It does not satisfy me, sir."

"Well, it seems to me that it will have to. Long ago that despatch must be in Paris; but Mr. Monroe, our minister, could learn nothing about it. And so you two young folks have arranged your affairs. I can tell you that Miss Gainor will be sorry to have had no hand in this business, and Uncle Josiah, too."

"That is droll enough. I am glad to have pleased somebody. We have thought it better not as yet to speak of it."

"Have you told your mother, René? You may be sure that she will know, or guess at the truth, and resent being left in the dark."

"That is true; but you may very well imagine that I dread what she will say of Margaret. We have never had a serious difference, and now it is to come. I shall talk to her to-morrow."

"No, now. Get it over, sir. Get it over. I must go home again soon, and I want to see you married. Go now at once and get it over."

"I suppose that will be as well."

He went slowly up the winding staircase which was so remarkable a feature of the finer Georgian houses. Suddenly he was aware in the darkness of Margaret on the landing above him.

"Don't stop me," she said.

"What is wrong!" he asked.

"Everything. I told thee thy mother would know. She sent for me. I went. She was cruel--cruel--hard."

"What, dear, did she say?"

"I shall not tell thee. She insulted me and my mother. Ah, but she said--no, I shall not tell thee, nor mother. She sent for me, and I went. I had to tell her. Oh, I said that--that--I told her--I do not know what I told her." She was on the edge of her first almost uncontrollable loss of self-government. It alarmed her pride, and at once becoming calm, she added, "I told her that it was useless to talk to me, to say that it must end, that thou wouldst obey her. I--I just laughed; yes, I did. And I told her she did not yet know her own son--and--that some day she would regret what she had said to me, and, René, of my mother. I do not care--"

"But I care, Margaret. I was this moment on my way to tell her."

"Let me pass. I hope thou art worth what I have endured for thy sake. Let me pass." He went by her, troubled and aware that he too needed to keep himself in hand. When he entered his mother's room he found her seated by the feeble candle-light, a rose of the never-finished embroidery growing under her thin, skilful fingers.

For her a disagreeable matter had been decisively dealt with and put aside; no trace of emotion betrayed her self-satisfaction at having finally settled an unpleasant but necessary business.

In the sweet, low voice which seemed so out of relation to her severity of aspect, she said: "Sit down. I have been left to learn from the young woman of this entanglement. I should have heard it from you, or never have had to hear it at all."

"Mother, I have been in very great trouble of late. That my disaster did trouble you so little has been painful to me. But this is far worse. I waited to feel at ease about the other affair before I spoke to you of my intention to marry Miss Swanwick. I was on my way just now when I met her on the stair. I desire to say, mother--"

She broke in: "It is useless to discuss this absurd business. It is over. I have said so to the young woman. That ends it. Now kiss me. I wish to go to bed."

"No," he said; "this does not end it."

"Indeed, we shall see--a quite ordinary Quaker girl and a designing mother. It is all clear enough. Neither of you with any means, not a louis of dot--a nice wife to take home. Oh, I have expressed myself fully, and it was needed. She presumed to contradict me. _Ciel!_ I had to be plain."

"So it seems; but as I count for something, I beg leave to say, _maman_, that I mean to marry Margaret Swanwick."

"You, the Vicomte de Courval!"