The young Virginian had well-nigh made his way out over the two miles or so of sheltered roadway, when he heard hoof beats on ahead, and slackened his own speed. He saw two horsemen approaching, both well mounted, coming on at a handsome gait.
Of these, one was a stout and elderly man of no special shape at all, who sat his horse with small grace, his florid face redder for his exercise, his cheeks mottled with good living and hard riding. He was clad in scrupulous riding costume, and seemed, indeed, a person of some importance. The badge of some order or society showed on his breast, and his entire air--intent as he was upon his present business of keeping company with a skilled horseman--marked him as one accustomed to attention from others. A servant in the costume of an English groom rode at a short distance behind him.
The second man was lighter, straight and trim of figure, with an erectness and exactness of carriage which marked him as a soldier at some part of his life. He was clad with extreme neatness, well booted also, and sat his mount with the nonchalance of the trained horseman. His own garb and face showed not the slightest proof that he had been riding hard.
Indeed, he seemed one whom no condition or circumstance could deprive of a cool immaculateness. He was a man to be marked in any company--especially so by the peculiar brilliance of his full, dark eye, which had a piercing, searching glint of its own; an eye such as few men have owned, and under whose spell man or woman might easily melt to acquiescence with the owner's mind.
He sat his horse with a certain haughtiness as well as carelessness. His chin seemed long and firm, and his lofty forehead--indeed, his whole air and carriage--discovered him the man of ambition that he really was. For this was no other than Aaron Burr, Vice-President of the United States, whose name was soon to be on the lips of all. He had lately come to Washington with the Jefferson administration.
This gentleman now reined up his horse as he caught sight of the young man approaching. His older companion also halted. Burr raised his hat.
"Ah, Captain Lewis!" he said in a voice of extraordinary sweetness, yet of power. "You also have caught the secret of this climate, eh? You ride in the early morning--I do not wonder. You are Virginian, and so know the heats of Washington. I fancy you recognize Mr. Merry," he added, his glance turning from one to the other.
The young Virginian bowed to both gentlemen.