But when he saw Stephen, Mr. Lincoln looked up with a smile of welcome that is still, and ever will be, remembered and cherished.
"Tell Judge Whipple that I have attended to that little matter, Steve," he said.
"Why, Mr. Lincoln," he exclaimed, "you have had no time."
"I have taken the time," Mr. Lincoln replied, "and I think that I am well repaid. Steve," said he, "unless I'm mightily mistaken, you know a little more than you did yesterday."
"Yes, sir! I do," said Stephen.
"Come, Steve," said Mr. Lincoln, "be honest. Didn't you feel sorry for me last night?"
Stephen flushed scarlet.
"I never shall again, sir," he said.
The wonderful smile, so ready to come and go, flickered and went out. In its stead on the strange face was ineffable sadness,—the sadness of the world's tragedies, of Stephen stoned, of Christ crucified.
"Pray God that you may feel sorry for me again," he said.