ng the glass
gently down, passed to a long window and stood, as Rand had stood before
him, looking out into the night. When he turned, the expression of his
face had again changed. "It is growing late," he said. "In two days I
return to Washington. The world will have grown older ere we meet again.
Who knows? We may never meet again. This night we may be parting
forever. You ask me if I brought you here to tell you that I acquiesced
in this quarrel of your making, shook you from my thoughts, and bade
you an eternal farewell. That is as may be. Even now--even now the
nature of our parting is in your hands!"

Rand also had risen. "In this room, what can I say? Your kindness to me
has been very great. My God, sir, I should be stock or stone not to feel
abashed! And yet--and yet--Will you have it at last? You ask
discipleship--you must have about you tame and obedient spirits--a Saint
James the Greater and a Saint James the Less to hearken to your words
and spread them far and wide, and all the attentive band to wait upon
your wisdom! Free! We are tremendously free, but you must still be Lord
and Master! Well, say that I rebel--"

"I see that you have done so," said Jefferson, with irony. "_I_ am not
your Lord and Master."

"I would not, if I could, have shunned this interview to-night. For long
we have felt this strain, and now the sharp break is over. I shall sleep
the better for it."

"I am glad, sir, that you view it so."

"For years I have worn your livery and trudged your road,--that fair,
wide country road with bleating sheep and farmer folk, all going to
markets dull as death! I've swincked and sweated for you on that road.
Now I'll tread my own, though I come at last to the gates of Tartarus!
My service is done, sir; I'm out of livery."

"Your road!" exclaimed the other. "Where does it lie, and who are your
fellow travellers? John Randolph of Roanoke and the new Republicans? or
monarchism and the Federalists? Or have I the honour, to-night, to
entertain a Virginian Caesar?--perhaps even a Buonaparte?" His voice
changed. "Have you reflected, sir, that there is some danger in so free
an expression of your mind?"

"I have reflected," answered Rand, "that there is no danger so
intolerable as the chafing of a half-acknowledged bond. The clock is
striking again. I owe you much, sir. I thank you for it. While I served
you, I served faithfully. It is over now. I look you in the face and
tell you this, and so I giv