time you like—­of the men who make this administration, and of the men behind this compromise.  A majority of the House, an even division of the Senate—­Listen, my dear friend, this is not idle talk, and these are no idle promises!  I am serious.  I speak to you in no wise ill-advised.  To tell you the truth, we are frightened.  She has stolen all our peace of mind, and stolen also some of our thunder—­some of our cast-off and unthundered thunder.”

“In what way?”

“Oh, nothing.  It is of very little consequence.  It is a bagatelle.  All she proposes to do is to purchase all the slaves in the United States—­out of her own funds—­and ship them out of America.”

“Great God!”

“Yes.  We didn’t dare it.  She does.  We didn’t begin.  She has begun.  And since it has begun, who knows what army of the people—­what new party—­may fall in behind her?  We want you to forestall all that.  We don’t want you to head that new party.  We think you will do better to fall in with us, to accept the compliment of a European mission—­and to take this fair firebrand with you.  We are afraid to have her in Washington.”

The other listened with a flicker of the eyelid, which showed his interest, but feigned lightness in his speech.

“In matters of gallantry, my dear friend, why does Kentucky need a substitute, or even an ally?”

“Kentucky, in the deference due to so great a man as yourself, yields to New York!  Will you have snuff, Sir?”

“I thank you, I think not.  But tell me, what is it that New York must do?”

“New York, my dear Sir, must transport, man-handle, murder, wheedle, bowstring, drown, and permanently lose Josephine, Countess St. Auban,—­herself late back from Missouri, formerly of God knows where.  I promise you, this country is only a tinder box, waiting for that sort of spark.  To-morrow—­but you remember, my dear Horatio!”

“But between now and to-morrow is rather a brief period.  We have not yet invented means of traveling through the air.  I could not well carry off this fair lady by main strength.  My own plans unfortunately require some attention.  And I think that, even were the trifling difficulty of the lady’s consent overcome, I could not easily assume the role of savior of my country before the time of the departure of the next ship for Europe—­even granted my enemies, the Whigs, will give a mission to an ex-Democrat and a Free Soiler like myself!”

“Not that I should not experience the most pleasureable emotions both in saving the country, my dear Sir,” he saluted with his glass, “and of saving it in the company of so charming a person as this young lady is reported to be.  The years have laid us under a certain handicap, my friend.  Yet were this lady quite unattached, or her duena not wholly impossible, one might consider the distinguished role of disinterestedly saving one’s country in the capacity at least of chaperon.”