It came on the 16th of February.  His office was in his bedroom.  He had just completed a letter containing instructions of an important nature for the commissary, and started in search of Tilghman, whose duty it was to see it safely delivered.  On the stairs he passed Washington, whose brow was heavy.  The General, with that brevity which was an indication of his passionate temper fighting against a self-control which he must have knocked flat with great satisfaction at times, ejaculated that he wished to speak with him at once.  Hamilton replied that he would wait upon him immediately, and hastened to Tilghman’s office, wondering what had occurred to stir the depths of his Chief.  He was but a moment with Tilghman, but on the stairs he met Lafayette, who was in search of him upon a matter of business.  It is possible that Hamilton should not have permitted himself to be detained, but at all events he did, for perhaps two minutes.  Suddenly he became conscious that Washington was standing at the head of the stairs, and wondering if he had awaited him there, he abruptly broke off his conversation with Lafayette, and ran upward.  Washington looked as if about to thunder anathema upon the human race.  He had been annoyed since dawn, and his passions fairly flew at this last indignity.

“Colonel Hamilton!” he exclaimed.  “You have kept me waiting at the head of the stairs these ten minutes.  I must tell you, sir, you treat me with disrespect.”

Hamilton’s eyes blazed and his head went back, but his quick brain leapt to the long-desired opportunity.  He replied as calmly as if his heart were not thumping, “I am not conscious of it, sir, but since you have thought it necessary to tell me so, we part.”

“Very well, sir!” replied Washington, “if it be your choice!” He turned his back and strode to his office.

Hamilton went to his room with a light heart, feeling as if the pigeon-holes were marching out of his brain.  The breach was Washington’s; he himself had answered with dignity, and could leave with a clear conscience.  He had not kept Washington waiting above four minutes, and he did not feel that an apology was necessary.

“Oh,” he thought aloud, “I feel as if I had grown wings.”  He would return to his bride for a few weeks, then apply once more for a command.

There was a knock, and Tilghman entered.  The young men looked at each other in silence for a moment; Tilghman with an almost comical anxiety, Hamilton with alert defiance.

“Well?” demanded Hamilton.

“I come from the Chief—­ambassador extraordinary.  Look out of the window, or I shall not have courage to go on.  He’s put the devil to bed and is monstrous sorry this misunderstanding has occurred—­”

“Misunderstanding?” snorted Hamilton.

“You know my love of euphony, Hamilton.  Pray let me finish.  I’d rather be Laurens on my way to beg.  What is a king to a lion?  But seriously, my dear, the Chief is desperately sorry this has occurred.  He has deputed me to assure you of his great confidence in your abilities, integrity, and usefulness, and of his desire, in a candid conversation, to heal a difference which could not have happened but in a moment of passion.  Do go and see him at once, and then we shall all sleep in peace to-night.”