ich country afford to pay to the
extent of a woman's happiness? When a king is crowned, he sets free
the criminals. And this day I feel as proud and happy as if I were a
king--and king of the greatest empire of all the world! I know well
who assured that kingdom. Let me be, then"--he raised his long
hand--"say nothing, do nothing. And let this end all talk between us
of these matters. I know you can keep your own counsel."

Lewis bowed silently.

"Go to Richmond, Merne. You will find there a broken conspirator and
his unhappy daughter. Both are ostracized. None is so poor as to do
either of them reverence. She has no door opened to her now, though
but lately she was daughter of the Vice-President, the rich Mrs.
Alston, wife of the Governor of her State. Go to them now. Tell
Colonel Burr that the President will not ask mercy for him. John
Marshall is on the bench there; but before him is a jury--John
Randolph is foreman of that jury. It is there that case will be
tried--in the jury room; and _politics will try it_! Go to Theodosia,
Merne, in her desperate need."

"But what can I do, Mr. Jefferson?" broke out his listener.

"Do precisely what I tell you. Go to that social outcast. Take her on
your arm before all the world--_and before that jury_! Sit there,
before all Richmond--and that jury. An hour or so will do. Do that,
and then, as I did when I trusted you, ask no questions, but leave it
on the knees of the gods. If you can call me chief in other matters,"
the President concluded, "and can call me chief in that fashion of
thought which men call religion as well, let me give you unction and
absolution, my son. It is all that I have to give to one whom I have
always loved as if he were my own son. This is all I can do for you.
It may fail; but I would rather trust that jury to be right than trust
myself today; because, I repeat, I feel like flinging open every
prison door in all the world, and telling every erring, stumbling man
to try once more to do what his soul tells him he ought to do!"

CHAPTER XVI

THE QUALITY OF MERCY

In Richmond jail lay Aaron Burr, the great conspirator, the ruins of
his ambition fallen about him. He had found a prison instead of a
palace. He was eager no longer to gain a scepter, but only to escape a
noose.

The great conspiracy was at an end. The only question was of the
punishment the accused should have--for in the general belief he was
certain of conviction. That he n