.

What limit is there to the generosity of a man like
you--what limit to his desire to pay each duty, to keep each
promise that he has made in all his life? Will such a man
forget his promise always to kiss away the tears of that
companion to whom he has come in rescue? I am in trouble.
Tears are in my eyes as I write. Do you forget that promise?
Do you wish to make yet happier the woman whom you have so
many times made happy--who has cherished so much ambition
for you?

Meriwether Lewis, my friend--you who would have been my
lover--for whom there is no hope, since fate has been so
unkind--come back to us in your generosity! Come back to me,
even in your hopelessness! Will you always see me with tears
in my eyes? Do you see me now? I swear tears fall even as I
write. And you promised always to kiss my tears away!

Farewell until I see you again. May good fortune attend you
always, wherever you go--in whatever direction you may
travel--from us or toward us--from me or with me!

Meriwether Lewis sat, his face between his hands, staring down at what
he saw. Should he go on, or should he hand over all to William Clark
and return--return to keep his promise--return to comfort, as best he
might, with the gift of all his life, that face which indeed he had
left in tears by an unpardonable act of his own?

He owed her everything she could ask of him. What must she think of
him now--that he was not only a dishonorable man, but also a coward
running away from the responsibility of what he had done? No blow from
the hands of fate could have given him more exquisite agony than this.

For a long time--he never knew how long--he sat thus, staring,
pondering, but at length with sudden energy he rose and flung open the
door of the dancing-room.

"Will!" he called to his companion.

When William Clark joined his friend in the outer air, he saw the open
letter in Lewis's hand--saw also the distress upon his countenance.

"Merne, it's another letter from that woman! I wish I had her here,
that I might wring her neck!" said William Clark viciously. "Who
brought it?"

"I don't know."

Meriwether Lewis was folding up the letter. He placed it in the pocket
of his coat with its fellow, received months ago.

"Will," said he at length, "don't you recall what I was telling you
this very morning? I felt something coming--I felt that fate had