The miller was a plain man, and silent. Other folk, younger or older, married or single, had come hither of a morning, and he spoke the name of none. He welcomed these two after his fashion. Under the shade of a great tree, which flung an arm out to the rivulet, he pulled out a little table spread in white and departed to tell his wife of the company. She, busy and smiling, came out presently with her best in old china and linen and wherewith to go with both.
They sat now, face to face across the little table, their horses cropping the dewy grass near by. Lewis's riding crop and gloves lay on his knee. He cast his hat upon the grass. Little birds hopped about on the ground and flitted here and there in the trees, twittering. A mocker, trilling in sudden ecstacy of life, spread a larger melody through all the wood.
The sun drew gently up in the heavens, screened by the waving trees. The ripple of the stream was very sweet.
"Theodosia, look!" said the young man, suddenly swinging a gesture about him. "Did I not say right? It is Eden! Ah, what a pity it is that Eden must ever be the same--a serpent--repentance--and farewell! Yet it was so beautiful."
"A sinless Eden, sir."
"No! I will not lie--I will not say that I do not love you more than ever. That is my sin; so I must go away. This must be our last meeting--I am fortunate that it came by chance today."
"Going away--where, then, my friend?"
"Into the West. It always has called me. Ah, if only I had remained in the Indian country yonder, where I belonged, and never made my ride to New York--to learn that I had come too late! But the West still is there--the wilderness still exists to welcome such as me!"
"But you will--you will come back again?"
"It is in the lap of the gods. I do not know or care. But my plans are all arranged. Mr. Jefferson and I have agreed that it is almost time to start. You see, Theodosia, I am now back from my schooling. You behold in me, madam, a scientist! At least I am competent to read by the sun and stars, can reckon longitude and latitude--as one must, to journey into the desert yonder. If only I dared orient my soul as well!"
"You would never doubt my faith in my husband."
"No! Of course, you love your husband. I could not look at you a second time if you did not."
"You are a good man, Meriwether Lewis!"