“Whom had he ever harmed?” she demanded of Jefferson.
“None in the world, with intent; but he had enemies. Whether by his own hand or that of another, he died a gallant gentleman. He would not think of himself alone. But listen—bear with me if I tell you that could your son send out the news himself, perhaps he might say ’twas by his own hand he perished, and not by that of another!”
“Never, Mr. Jefferson, never will I believe that! It was not in his nature!”
“I agree with you. But when we take the last wishes of the dead, we take what is the law for us. And the law of your son was the law of honor. Suppose, my dear madam, there were a woman concerned in this matter?”
“He never wronged a woman in his life——”
“Precisely, nor in his death would he wrong one! Do you begin to see?”
“Did he ever speak to you of her?”
“It was impossible that he should; but I knew them both. I knew their secret. Were it in his power to do so, I am sure that he carried his secret with him, so that it might never be shared by any. That secret he has guarded in death as in life.”
“But shall I let that stain rest on his name?” The dark eye of the old woman gleamed upon her son’s friend.