It was only a little way, some three blocks, from the house of the President to the State Department, where, at 287 High Street, half a dozen clerks now made up the slender staff. De Courval walked slowly to the office, and setting his business in order, got leave from his immediate superior to be absent the rest of the day.
As he went out, Mr. Randolph passed in. De Courval raised his hat, and said, "Good morning, sir." The Secretary turned back. In his hour of humiliation and evident distress his natural courtesy did not desert him.
"Monsieur," he said in ready French, "the despatch which you sent on its way has returned. I desire to ask you to forget the injustice I did you." He was about to add, "My time to suffer has come." He refrained.
"I thank you," said De Courval; "you could hardly have done otherwise than you did." The two men bowed, and parted to meet no more. "What does it all mean?" thought the young man. Thus set free, he would at once have gone home to tell of the end of the troubles this wandering paper had made for him. But Margaret was at Merion for the day, and others might wait. He wished for an hour to be alone, and felt as he walked eastward the exaltation which was natural to a man sensitive as to the slightest reflection on his honor. Thus surely set at ease, with the slow pace of the thoughtful, he moved along what we now call Market Street. Already at this time it had its country carts and wide market sheds, where Schmidt liked to come, pleased with the colors of the fruit and vegetables. René heard again with a smile the street-cries, "Calamus! sweet calamus!" and "Peaches ripe! ripe!" as on his first sad day in the city.
Aimlessly wandering, he turned northward into Mulberry Street, with its Doric portals, and seeing the many Friends coming out of their meeting-house, was reminded that it was Wednesday. "I should like," he thought, "to have said my thanks with them." Moving westward at Delaware Fifth Street, he entered the burial-ground of Christ Church, and for a while in serious mood read what the living had said of the dead.
"Well, René," said Schmidt, behind him, "which are to be preferred, those underneath or those above ground?"
"I do not know. You startled me. To-day, for me, those above ground."
"When a man has had both experiences he may be able to answer—or not. I once told you I liked to come here. This is my last call upon these dead, some of whom I loved. What fetched you hither?"
"Oh, I was lightly wandering with good news," and he told him of the lost Despatch No. 10, and that it was to be for the time a secret.