is years. His were
to be the comforts of the trail, the rude associations with common
men, the terrors of the desert and the mountain; his fireside only
that of the camp. Yet he advanced to his future steadily, his head
high, his eye on ahead--a splendid figure of a man.

He did not at first hear the gallop of hoofs on the street behind him
as at last, a mile or more from the White House gate, he turned toward
the river front. He was looking at the dull flood of the Potomac, now
visible below him; but he paused, something appealing to the strange
sixth sense of the hunter, and turned.

A rider, a mounted servant, was beckoning to him. Behind the horseman,
driven at a stiff gait, came a carriage which seemed to have but a
single occupant. Captain Lewis halted, gazed, then hastened forward,
hat in his hand.

"Mrs. Alston!" he exclaimed, as the carriage came up. "Why are you
here? Is there any news?"

"Yes, else I could not have come."

"But why have you come? Tell me!"

He motioned the outrider aside, sprang into the vehicle and told the
driver to draw a little apart from the more public street. Here he
caught up the reins himself, and, ordering the driver to join the
footman at the edge of the roadway they had left, turned to the woman
at his side.

"Pardon me," said he, and his voice was cold; "I thought I had cut all
ties."

"Knit them again for my sake, then, Meriwether Lewis! I have brought
you a summons to return."

"A summons? From whom?"

"My father--Mr. Merry--Senor Yrujo. They were at our home all night.
We could not--they could not--I could not--bear to see you sacrifice
yourself. This expedition can only fail! I implore you not to go upon
it! Do not let your man's pride drive you!"

She was excited, half sobbing.

"It does drive me, indeed," said he simply. "I am under orders--I am
the leader of this expedition of my government. I do not
understand----"

"At this hour--on this errand--only one motive could have brought me!
It is your interest. Oh, it is not for myself--it is for your future."

"Why did you come thus, unattended? There is something you are
concealing. Tell me!"

"Ah, you are harsh--you have no sympathy, no compassion, no gratitude!
But listen, and I will tell you. My father, Mr. Merry, the Spanish
minister, are all men of affairs. They have watched the planning of
this expedition. Why fly in the face of prophecy and of Providence?
That is what my father says. He says that