“Think you that I would have come here for any other man?” she demanded. “Think you that I would ask of you anything to my own dishonor, or to your dishonor? But now you do not listen. You will not come back—even for me!”
In answer he simply bent and kissed her hand, stepped from the carriage, raised his hat. Yet he hesitated for half an instant and turned back.
“Theodosia,” said he, “it is hard for me not to do anything you ask of me—you do not know how hard; but surely you understand that I am a soldier and am under orders. I have no option. It seems to me that the plans of your father and his friends should be placed at once before Mr. Jefferson. It is strange they sent you, a woman, as their messenger! You have done all that a woman could. No other woman in the world could have done as much with me. But—my men are waiting for me.”
This time he did not turn back again.
Colonel Burr’s carriage returned more slowly than it had come. It was a dejected occupant who at last made her way, still at an early hour, to the door of her father’s house.
Burr met her at the door. His keen eye read the answer at once.
“You have failed!” said he.
She raised her dark eyes to his, herself silent, mournful.