MY THEODOSIA (41 page)

It was maddening to sit there beside her and to know that, by clever tactics, by invoking the ghost of their faraway little love affair, or indeed by downright bullying, he might wrest from her so much valuable information. And yet he could not. Her dignity, her air of remoteness, and, paradoxically, her vulnerability constituted a shield. He knew that she was scarcely conscious of him, now. Her eyes were continually
raised toward the Capitol Building, her fingers plucked at a small lace handkerchief on her lap: scarcely conscious of him as a person, sitting on the bench with her, and not conscious of him at all as a man. This piqued him slightly, for women did not usually treat him so. And yet was it not that same impervious quality in her which had intrigued him years ago? He had been unable to pierce it then, and now he no longer had the urge to try.

The town clock struck, and Theodosia sprang to her feet. 'I must get back.'

Irving offered her his arm and escorted her to the courtroom. When they entered, the prisoner was already in the box. Irving, watching with alert interest, saw the quick look that flickered between Burr and Theodosia.

Why, she worships him, he thought, startled. And he, in his cool, self-centered way, worships her. That was more like the signal of parted lovers than a look of filial affection.

The idea interested him. He reached for the quill pen provided for members of the press, pulled the bottle of ink toward him and made some quick notes before settling back to listen to the proceedings. The trial had been exciting enough before by reason of the magnitude of the charge, the number of persons involved, and the former high standing of the accused. Now, after his re-encounter with Theodosia, it had developed overtones which intrigued him mightily. This is far better than the theater, he told himself with delight. His bright hazel eyes darted from one face to the other, speculating and weighing.

Next day he had abundant new cause for interest. Matters went badly for Burr. The prosecution produced witnesses from Blennerhassett's Island: a groom and a gardener who made damaging admissions. There had been great preparations on the island—the storing of food, the outfitting of boats.

' Warships, might they be called?' the prosecutor suggested. Well, no, not unless you called flatboats warships.

' But there were guns?' Oh, yes, for sure. There were plenty of muskets and ammunition.

'And Colonel Burr had raised a sizable army to use these muskets and ammunition?' Yes, a good number of men had enlisted with Colonel Burr.

A murmur ran around the courtroom. The jury was fixed by the prosecutor's triumphant eye: here was the beginning of the necessary proof; it remained but to show that those muskets had been fired, then Burr's goose would be cooked for sure.

Everyone in the courtroom knew the value of this evidence. Everyone tilted forward straining to see Burr and how he took it. Not a muscle in his indifferent face quivered, however. He sat relaxed, a trifle pale, perhaps, but no more so than could be explained by the continued and choking heat.

Irving alone of all the crowd looked, not at the prisoner, but at Theodosia. He thus happened to see a flash of naked emotion on her face. And the emotion astounded him: he had expected consternation, dismay, fear; and he saw instead utter amazement followed by joy. It couldn't be joy, unless she had lost her reason, he thought dumbfounded. He then perceived that her dilated eyes were not fixed on her father as was their wont, but on a point beyond Burr's head. Turning, he followed her gaze.

There was a newcomer. A tall gaunt man with fair hair, leaning against the wall. And his eyes were riveted on Theo as hers were on him. It was for this man, then, that her face was illumined with a bewildered joy that transformed it; had transformed it, for now, as Irving turned to look at her again, her eyes were cast down, but even across the dozens of people who separated them, he could see that her cheeks, even her neck and the square of chest exposed by her dress, were scarlet
Now, what is the meaning of this? thought Irving. Can it be the husband? Does one ever betray so much emotion at beholding a husband? He listened a moment to the evidence, which had once more bogged down in technicalities and required no attention, then he jogged the arm of the journalist next to him. 'Tell me, pray, do you know the name of the long fair fellow who stands over there against the wall? He in the green coat?'

The other looked and jumped. 'Gad, man! That's Meriwether Lewis!' He hissed it so loud that it brought a rap of the gavel and an angry look from the bench.

Irving gave a surprised exclamation. 'The conquering hero, no less? I've heard much of him and his triumphant return last month from his expedition with Clark. He is Jefferson's favorite, is he not?'

'He has been appointed Governor of the North Louisiana Territory,' returned the other significantly, but in a more cautious whisper. 'So you may judge whether Jefferson is pleased with him! The President has doubtless sent him here in his own stead to watch the trial.'

Then, why, by all that's infernal, does Mistress Theodosia Burr Alston blaze with delight at the sight of her father's enemy? Here is something vastly peculiar. Irving mused pleasurably over this new mystery. Impossible to imagine two men more different: the one, tall, taciturn, disdainful of the recent honors and acclaim which had been heaped upon him, had risked his life to enlarge and unify his country; while the other——

Irving glanced at the prisoner. Well, whatever the truth of these particular charges against him, it was clear that Burr cared not a rap for the future of the United States. His vision was bounded by self-interest. True he had fought brilliantly in the war for freedom—but then so had many
another young man from motives no more lofty than adventure and personal advancement.

I verily believe that Burr has not an ounce of patriotism, thought Irving, nor any deep emotions at all, except perhaps one.

He turned instinctively to look at Theodosia and uttered an exclamation of concern. Her color had faded into a ghastly white, her upper lip glistened, and, while her head fell forward, her small body slumped.

Irving sprang to his feet, but already a score of people had seen her plight. There was a buzz of sympathy. 'She's swooned, poor little thing,' said a voice, 'and no wonder. Such a strain, and in this heat.'

Two men carried her outside, and Aaron, who had also started forward without thought of his confinement, was pushed down by the two guards on either side of him. He bit his lips and, flinging back his head, saw Lewis's tall form hurrying through the door opposite.

For a moment his face contorted. His fingers clenched, they wound themselves in the ruffled white neckcloth at his throat. There was a sharp sound of tearing linen. The guards looked at their prisoner in astonishment. 'For sure he feels all this more than he lets on,' one of them whispered, and the other nodded.

The gavel sounded, the courtroom quieted. The crossexamination of a dull witness proceeded. Aaron once more became impassive. He did not look at the empty chair where his daughter had been sitting.

When Theodosia reached the air, her eyes opened. 'I'm all right now,' she murmured, struggling to hold her head up. 'But I think I will lie down for a little. Will somebody please call my carriage?'

'Your carriage is here, Mrs. Alston, and I will do myself the
honor of seeing you home'. Lewis took her arm, dismissing the hovering spectators with a curt gesture of his chin. The carriage door shut them in.

'Merne,' she whispered, hardly yet daring to believe. 'Oh, Merne—I never thought to see you again.'

She had fainted for pure joy. From the instant of seeing him in the courtroom, she had lost realization of the trial, even of Aaron. Her long-submerged love had rushed upon her like a suffocating torrent. She had felt in that moment only—Thank God, he is alive. He is near me. He will help us. Everything will now be all right.

Lewis smiled grimly. 'I am hard to kill, Theodosia. I'm sorry I startled you so. I didn't think how unexpected my appearance would be to you.'

She gazed at him hungrily. He was thinner, who had always been lean. His skin was weathered dark as oak. His hands were seamed, rough with calluses. She touched one softly.

'Merne, you're so cold, so still. Are you not glad to be back? Did you not do all that you set out to? Did you find the other ocean?'

'Yes, the other ocean and mountains and great rivers'. 'Were there savages? I never dared think of them. I have been so terrified for you.'

He gave a short laugh. 'There were savages, and amongst them the truest, most loyal friend a man could find, Sacajawea. Without her we could have done
nothing. '

'A woman,' she said quickly. 'And were there other women, Merne?'

He shrugged. 'Other women, of course. Lights-o'-love, a French trollop or two in St. Louis.'

She shrank against the cushions, staring at him miserably. He had not looked at her once since they entered the carriage.

'Oh, what is it, my dear?' she faltered after a moment. 'Why do you speak so harshly to me? You hurt me.'

'I'm sorry for that,' he answered coldly. 'Can you expect me to be merry with a woman whose father has attempted to wrest from the Union those very territories which I have labored for four years to bring into it?'

'That's not true!' she cried. 'He was interested only in Mexico!'

'And anything else he could lay his hands on,' said Merne bitterly. His anger, though she could not guess it, was as much for himself as for her. Why did she still have the power to disquiet him? He had thought himself cured, their love safely relegated to the status of a vanished dream. Yet the sight of her in the courtroom had moved him profoundly.

'You don't understand,' she said urgently, her first swift resentment passed. 'If some of the western territories should break away, it would be their own doing. They have no feeling of allegiance to Washington. They are too far away. They
wish
to form another nation.'

Her flushed earnestness touched him. He turned and looked at her ruefully. How well her father had trained her! She had acquired all his dexterity for proving that black was white.

'I trust you arc wrong about that,' he said, with a faint smile, 'since I have just been appointed Governor to those territories you assure me are ripe for revolt.'

'Oh—!' She was startled. She glanced at him quickly. Somehow she had never pictured him as an important figure, for all her love. He had been merely a captain, a secretary, or the leader of a hopeless little expedition into the hinterland. Now he was to be Governor of a tract as large as Europe. Why should he? she thought, suddenly angry. What had he done to merit such honor, when a man like he
father could be condemned to prison? But Merne was a friend of Jefferson's, Aaron's bitter enemy. In the bliss of seeing him again she had forgotten that.

' Why did you come to the trial, Meme?'

He hesitated and her hope that he would answer, 'To sec you, to help you,' perished.

Instead he pointed through the coach window, saying, ' Is this your house? The carriage has stopped'. When she nodded coldly, he added, ' May I come inside with you? I have something to say.'

It was cooler inside. Merne stretched out his long legs and watched her seat herself stiffly across from him before the dark fireplace. Suddenly the memory of their parting engulfed them, the feel of each other's arms and lips. They could not look at each other.

Perhaps, he thought, if we had been truly lovers, we should be sated now. This unrest and feverishness would not leap at us yet again. His jaw tightened. There must be no repetition of the rapturous and inconclusive days in Washington. Surely at last they were beyond that. He had been sure of it until he saw her. He had come to the trial at Jefferson's request, fully sharing in the President's hostility toward Aaron and prepared to proffer new evidence against him. He had encountered the ragged edge of the conspiracy as he passed through St. Louis, had talked with a handful of men, who, indiscreet in their cups, had furnished him with many details.

'Go down there, Merne,' ordered Jefferson, 'and demand to be sworn in. I like not the shilly-shally and hair-splitting which Marshall allows. The man should have been hanged long before this. You arc in high favor with the people, and your appointment as Governor will give weight to your evidence.'

He had consented gladly, ignoring the thought of Theo
dosia. What if it hurt her? What if she hated him? He had not reached his present position without incurring enmity. Her father was a scoundrel and a menace to the country. It had seemed simple.

And now, alone with her, he felt himself blurred with sentimentality—with passion: his purpose blunted.

'I came down here to give new evidence against Burr'. He flung it at her roughly.

Her eyes widened; she shrank to a listening stillness like a wild thing scenting danger. 'What new evidence?'

'Matters I came upon in St. Louis,' he answered briefly.

'But you won't give it—you can't——'

'Why not? Because you and I have known love? That is the reasoning of a fool—or a woman.'

Have known love, she thought with anguish. Docs he mean that? Is it all past? Has he come here simply to injure us? Somehow I must check this new danger: danger from the one person I trusted to help.

'You're a Governor now, a great man. I should not be surprised that you no longer feel—feel affection for the daughter of an impoverished prisoner. I was doubtless more attractive as the daughter of a Vice-President?'

'Rubbish!' he exploded. 'Don't play the hypocrite with me, Theodosia.'

She was silent. Her thoughts ran together in panic. What was this new evidence? He came from Jefferson, he had been out West. Whatever he said would be listened to avidly. The prosecution had so far been able to produce few witnesses more important than the grooms and gardeners they had heard today. This would be different. If he no longer loved her, she had no weapon. She was helpless and shamed before his cold implacability. Suddenly she looked full at him, and their eyes met. Her heart leaped with relief. She gave an
inarticulate cry. 'You do still love me, Merne! You can't lie to me now! I see it! I know it! Listen——'