"God forgive me, Will, but you search my very heart! For one moment I was on the point of declaring myself too ill to finish this journey--on the point of letting you have all the honor of it. I was going to surrender my place to you."
"You cannot desert us, Merne! You shall not! Go back to bed! Give me the letter! Bah! it is some counterfeit, some trick of one of the men!"
"It would be worth any man's life to try a jest like that," said Meriwether Lewis. "It is no counterfeit. I know it too well. This letter was written before we left St. Louis. How it came here I know not, but I know who wrote it."
"She had no right----"
"Ah, but that is the cruelty of it--she did have the right!"
"There are some things which a man must work out for himself," said William Clark slowly, after a time. "I don't think I'll ask any questions. If there is any place where I can take half your burden, you know what I will do. We've worked share and share alike, but perhaps some things cannot be shared, even by you and me. It is for you to tell me if I can help you now. If not, then you must decide."
Even as he spoke, his beloved friend was turning away from him. Meriwether Lewis walked out alone into the night. Stumbling, he passed on out among the shadows, under the starlight. Without much plan, he found himself on a little eminence of the bluff near by.
He sat down, his blanket drawn over his head, like an Indian, motionless, thinking, fighting out his own fight, as sometimes a man must, alone. He did not know that William Clark, most faithful of friends, himself silent as a Sioux, had followed, and sat a little distance apart, his eyes fixed on the motionless figure outlined against the sky.
The dawn came at last and kindled a red band along the east. The gray light at length grew more clear. A coyote on the bluff raised a long and quavering cry, like some soul in torture. As if it were his own voice, Meriwether Lewis stirred, rose, drew back the blanket from his shoulders, and turned down the hill.
He saw his friend rising and advancing to him. Once more their hands gripped, as they had when the two first met on the Ohio, almost a year ago, at the beginning of their journey.
Lewis frowned heavily. He could not speak for a time.
"Give the orders to the men to roll out, Captain Clark," said he at length.