Many days later the French servant, Peria, rode up to the gate, to the door, of Locust Hall, the Lewis homestead in old Virginia. The news he bore had preceded him. He met a stern-faced, dark-browed woman, who regarded him coldly when he announced his name, regarded him in silence. The servant found himself able to make but small speech.
"Your son was a brave man--he lived long," said Peria, haltingly, at the close of his story.
"Yes," said the mother of Meriwether Lewis. "He was a brave man. He was strong!"
"He was unhappy; but why he should have killed himself----"
"Stop!" The dark eyes blazed upon him. "What are you saying? My son kill himself? It is an outrage to his memory to suggest it. He was the victim of some enemy. As for you, begone!"
So Peria passed from sight and view, and almost from memory, not accused, not acquitted. Long afterward a brother of Meriwether Lewis met him, and found that he was carrying the old rifle and the little watch which every member of the family knew so well. These things had been missing from the effects of Meriwether Lewis in the inventory--indeed, little remained in the traveling-cases save a few scattered papers and the old spyglass. There was no gold. There were no letters of any kind.
Soon there came down from Monticello to Locust Hall the coach of Thomas Jefferson.
"Madam," said he, when finally he stood at the side of the mistress of Locust Hall, "it is heavy news I thought to bring--I see that you have heard it. What shall I say--what can we say to each other? I mourn him as if he were my own son."
"It has come at last," said the mother of Meriwether Lewis. "The wilderness has him, as I knew it would! I told him, here at this place, when he was a boy, that at last the load would weigh him down."
"The rumor is that he died by his own hand. I find it difficult to believe. It is far more likely that some enemy or robber was guilty of the deed."
"Whom had he ever harmed?" she demanded of Jefferson.
"None in the world, with intent; but he had enemies. Whether by his own hand or that of another, he died a gallant gentleman. He would not think of himself alone. But listen--bear with me if I tell you that could your son send out the news himself, perhaps he might say 'twas by his own hand he perished, and not by that of another!"
"Never, Mr. Jefferson, never will I believe that! It was not in his nature!"