d I recalled the pledge I
had made there, in the boyish beginnings of my manhood and my career.
"My chance and Burbank's," said I, "comes just in time. We are now at
the age where reputation is fixed; and our children are growing up and
will soon begin to judge us and be judged from us."

Years of patient sowing, thought I, and at last the harvest! And what a
harvest it will be! For under the teachings of experience I have sown
not starlight and moonshine, but seeds.

The next morning I could not rise; it was six weeks before I was able to
leave my bed. During that savage illness I met each and every one of the
reckless drafts I had been drawing against my reserve vitality. Four
times the doctors gave me up; once even Frances lost hope. When I was
getting well she confessed to me how she had warned God that He need
never expect to hear from her again if her prayer for me were not
answered--and I saw she rather suspected that her threat was not
unassociated with my recovery.

Eight weeks out of touch with affairs, and they the crucial eight weeks
of all my years of thought and action! At last the harvest, indeed; and
I was reaping what I had sown.

In the second week of January I revolted against the doctors and nurses
and had my political secretary, Wheelock, telephone for Woodruff--the
legislature had elected him to the Senate three days before. When he had
sat with me long enough to realize that I could bear bad news, he said:
"Goodrich and Burbank have formed a combination against you."

"How do you know?" said I, showing no surprise, and feeling none.

"Because"--he laughed--"I was in it. At least, they thought so until
they had let me be safely elected. As nearly as I can make it out, they
began to plot about ten days after you fell sick. At first they had it
on the slate to do me up, too. But--the day after Christmas--Burbank
sent for me--"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. And I began to think. It was on
Christmas day that Burbank telephoned for the first time in nearly three
weeks, inquiring about my condition. I remembered their telling me how
minute his questionings were. And I had thought his solicitude was proof
of his friendship! Instead, he had been inquiring to make sure about the
reports in the papers that I was certain to recover, in order that he
might shift the factors in his plot accordingly. "When did you say
Burbank sent for you?" I asked.

"On Christmas day," Woodruff replied.

I laughed