About two months after Congress opened, Washington, as his Cabinet seated itself, was detained in his room with a slight indisposition, but sent word that he would appear presently.  For a time, Randolph and Knox talked feverishly about the Indian troubles, while Hamilton looked over some notes, and Jefferson watched his antagonist covertly, as if anticipating a sudden spring across the table.  Hamilton was not in a good humour.  He was accustomed to abuse in Congress, and that it was again in full tide concerned him little, for he was sure of ultimate victories in both Houses; and words which were powerless to result in a defeat for himself, or his party, he treated with the scorn which impotence deserved.  But it was another matter to have his private character assailed day after day in the press, to watch a subtle pen insinuate into the public mind that a woman imperilled her reputation in receiving him, and that he was speculating in secret with the reckless friend whom he had warned over and over, and begged to desist.  Freneau sent him three copies of the Gazette daily, lest he miss something, and he had that morning left Betsey in tears.  Fenno was fighting the Secretary’s battles valiantly; but there was only one pen in America which could cope with Jefferson’s, and that was Hamilton’s own.  But aside from his accumulating cares, it was a strife to which he did not care to descend.  To-day, however, he needed but a match, and Jefferson, who experienced a fearful fascination in provoking him, applied it.

“I hear that Duer is on the verge of failure,” he remarked sadly.

“Yes,” said Hamilton; “he is.”

“I hold it to be a great misfortune that he has been connected with the Administration in any way.”

“His connection was quite distinct from your department.  I alone was responsible for his appointment as my assistant.  There is no necessity for you to shed any hypocritical tears.”

“What concerns the honour of the Administration naturally concerns the Secretary of State.”

“There is no question of honour.  If Duer fails, he will fail honourably, and the Administration, with which he is no longer connected, will in no way be involved.”

“Of those facts of course I am sure, but I fear the reflections in the press.”

“Keep your own pen worthily employed, and the Administration will take care of itself.”

“I do not understand you, sir,” said Jefferson, with great dignity.

“I am quite ready to be explicit.  Keep your pen out of Freneau’s blackguard sheet, while you are sitting at Washington’s right hand, at all events—­”

Jefferson had elevated both hands.  “I call Heaven to witness,” he cried, “this black aspersion upon my character is, has been, entirely a production of the imagination of my enemies.  I have never written nor inspired a line in Mr. Freneau’s paper.”

Hamilton laughed and returned to his notes.