He came on to the post-office amid a
buzz of voices, and the more prominent men of his party started down the
steps to greet him. The few Federalists stiffly held their places, but
they, too, as he rode up, lifted their hats to their ancient neighbour
and the country's Chief Magistrate. A dozen hands were ready to help him
dismount, but he shook his head with a smile. "Thank you, gentlemen, but
I will keep my seat. I have but ridden down to get my mail.--Mr. Coles,
if you will be so good!--It is a pity, is it not, to see this drouth?
There has been nothing like it these fifty years.--Mr. Holliday, I have
news of Meriwether Lewis. He has seen the Pacific.

"Tiphysque novos
Detegat orbes; nec sit terris
Ultima Thule.

"Mr. Massie, I want some apples from Spring Valley for my guest, the Abbe
Correa.--Mr. Cocke, my Merinos are prospering despite the burned
pastures."

Mr. Coles came down the steps with a great handful of letters and
newspapers. The President took them from him, and, without running them
over, deposited all together in a small cotton bag which hung from his
saddle-bow. This done, he raised his head and let his glance travel from
one end to the other of the porch above him. Of the men standing there
many were his bitter political enemies, but also they were his old
neighbours, lovers, like himself, of Albemarle and Virginia, and once,
in the old days when all were English, as in the later time when all
were patriots, his friends and comrades. He bowed to them, and they
returned his salute, not genially, but with the respect due to his fame
and office. His eye travelled on. "Mr. Rand, may I have a word with
you?"

Rand left the pillar against which he had leaned and came down the steps
to the waiting horseman. He moved neither fast nor slow, but yet with
proper alacrity, and his dark face was imperturbable. The fact of some
disagreement, some misunderstanding between Mr. Jefferson and the man
who had entered the public arena as his protege, had been for some time
in the air of Albemarle. What it was, and whether great or small,
Albemarle was not prepared to say. There was a chill in the air, it
thought, but the cloud might well prove the merest passing mist, if,
indeed, Rumour was not entirely mistaken, and the coolness a
misapprehension. The President's voice had been quiet and friendly, and
Rand himself moved with a most care-free aspect. He was of those who
draw observation, an