Doctor Ward took snuff with violence as he regarded me critically.

"I do not doubt the young man's sincerity and faithfulness," said he. "I
was only questioning one thing."

"Yes?"

"His age."

Calhoun rubbed his chin. "Nicholas," said he, "you heard me. I have no
wish to encumber you with useless instructions. Your errand is before
you. Very much depends upon it, as you have heard. All I can say is,
keep your head, keep your feet, and keep your heart!"

The two older men both turned now, and smiled at me in a manner not
wholly to my liking. Neither was this errand to my liking.

It was true, I was hardly arrived home after many months in the West;
but I had certain plans of my own for that very night, and although as
yet I had made no definite engagement with my fiancee, Miss Elisabeth
Churchill, of Elmhurst Farm, for meeting her at the great ball this
night, such certainly was my desire and my intention. Why, I had scarce
seen Elisabeth twice in the last year.

"How now, Nick, my son?" began my chief. "Have staff and scrip been your
portion so long that you are wholly wedded to them? Come, I think the
night might promise you something of interest. I assure you of one
thing--you will receive no willing answer from the fair baroness. She
will scoff at you, and perhaps bid you farewell. See to it, then; do
what you like, but bring her _with_ you, and bring her _here_.

"You will realize the importance of all this when I tell you that my
answer to Mr. Tyler must be in before noon to-morrow. That answer will
depend upon the answer the Baroness von Ritz makes to _me_, here,
to-night! I can not go to her, so she must come to me. You have often
served me well, my son. Serve me to-night. My time is short; I have no
moves to lose. It is you who will decide before morning whether or not
John Calhoun is the next secretary of state. And that will decide
whether or not Texas is to be a state." I had never seen Mr. Calhoun so
intent, so absorbed.

We all three now sat silent in the little room where the candles
guttered in the great glass _cylindres_ on the mantel--an apartment
scarce better lighted by the further aid of lamps fed by oil.

"He might be older," said Calhoun at length, speaking of me as though I
were not present. "And 'tis a hard game to play, if once my lady Helena
takes it into her merry head to make it so for him. But if I sent one
shorter of stature and uglier of visage and with less art in approac