over. I feel easier in my mind now that I have told you, and I know that your active little brain and great love for your father, in which you know that I join, will find some way out of my difficulty. But it is time now for our morning walk. We must go before the sun gets too high.

He offered his arm, which his wife took. They walked down the path beneath the spreading trees, stopping now and then to inhale the fragrance of the flowers which grew in little artificial parterres which had been made for them. He was a superb specimen of southern manhood, she a beautiful transplanted northern flower. Little Dickie, the goat, was browsing by the roadside. At the sight, in their minds, at the same instant, came the same thought of their little son, who was their hope and joy, and that thought was that one day he would be the grandson of a President of the United States.

CHAPTER IV

A WESTERN PARADISE

HE rays of a descending sun fell slantingly through the forest trees upon the rapidly

TH

moving Ohio River. They touched the white caps of the wavelets, kissed by a briskly blowing wind, and made them look like molten gold. The little waves moved on and dashed against a diminutive pier that projected from the shore of Blennerhassett Island. The waters, only temporarily impeded in their course, at last found their way around the end of the pier and then rushed on joyfully towards the sea, which, no doubt, they thought was near, but which was in reality thousands of miles away.

The sun sank behind the western hills and a full moon showed itself above the eastern horizon. A small boat containing a white man and two sable-hued attendants, who deftly plied the oars, hove in sight and took that branch of the river which brought it close to the little pier or wharf. The owner of the boat evidently had no intention of making a landing, but signified to his oarsmen to hold up so that he could view the enchanting picture which met his gaze.

A large lawn neatly kept and containing at least a hundred acres sloped gradually downward from the house to the river bank. This beautiful tract of verdure was in the shape of a fan with the broad segment towards the river, narrowing to a point as it approached the house. This, which was painted white, was odd in construction, being in the form of a semicircle. The

central portion was three stories in height. The circular wings were built in such a way that they ended in contact with the surrounding forest trees and effectually shut out all view of the barns and other out-buildings which were behind them.

Seated upon the veranda of the house were a lady and gentleman. They had espied the passing boat and immediately sent a servant to invite the stranger to land and accept their hospitality. This he finally decided to do, and, in response to urgent requests, he promised to become their guest for the night and postpone his journey until the next morning.

The stranger's two attendants were turned over to the care of the colored servants of the owner of the estate. These latter were slaves, but no word or action made that fact evident. The two boatmen extemporized a shelter-tent and made preparations upon the river bank for their evening meal. A fishing-pole was loaned them and they were soon provided with materials for their repast, many additions thereto being sent down to them from the house.

Supper being over, the host and his wife, accompanied by their guest, walked about the grounds to view the scene which was almost as brightly lighted by the moon as it had been hours before by the midday sun. The effect at night was even more beautiful than by day; the contrasts of light and shade were more marked under the gentle rays of the moon than beneath the more widely diffused brightness of the

sun.

The traveler was an English gentleman, Ashelyn by name. He was of high social position and great wealth, and had made a visit to America for the twin purposes of recreation and possible investment.

As they entered the house, after their walk, the visitor took a final view of the sylvan retreat and the beautiful river which encircled it like the setting of a

costly gem, their natural beauties enhanced by the moonbeams which fell upon them.

His entertainer was Harman Blennerhassett, a member of a wealthy Irish family, who had sought a home in this wilderness, in the closing years of the eighteenth century, accompanied by his wife Margaret. She was of English birth, being the granddaughter of the British General Agnew, who fell at the battle of Germantown.

But the host and hostess deserve more particular description.

Harman Blennerhassett was six feet tall. He was slender in figure and had that slight stoop which seems inseparable from persons of uncommon stature. His natural expression was serious, often falling into a look of cold reserve. Both forehead and nose were prominent. It was evident that he lacked that affability and suavity of manner that was so noticeable in his life companion. He was a connoisseur of music and played well upon the violin and 'cello, but the music of the spheres, commonly called thunder, threw him into a state of nervous trepidation and affright.

He dressed usually in the old English style. He wore scarlet or buff small clothes, silk stockings, shoes Iwith silver buckles, and a coat of blue broadcloth. When at home his dress was rather careless; he often went about in his shirt-sleeves without coat or waistcoat. In winter a long woolen roundabout or jacket protected him from the inclemency of the weather.

Margaret Blennerhassett, his wife, was above the ordinary stature and finely proportioned. Her eyes were dark blue, shaded by long, dark-brown lashes which matched her hair. Her face possessed that remarkable combination, features Grecian in mold, with cheeks rosy with the flush of health. Although it 'did not add to, but rather detracted from her charms, she wore, in accordance with the fashion of the time, a

silk head-dress arranged somewhat in the form of a Turkish turban.

She was bright and captivating in both speech and movement, but was also graceful and dignified. She had received a fine education and spoke and read French and Italian in addition to her mother tongue. She had a taste for poetical and dramatic composition, was a great admirer of Shakespeare, and had introduced a form of intellectual amusement which had given much pleasure both to herself and guests. It was the reading of Shakespeare's plays, the various parts or characters being assigned to the different members of the company assembled.

Possessed of remarkable physical endurance, she was a great lover of walking, and often made trips on foot over rough roads and through paths, or rather trails, from ten to twenty miles in length. She formed a picture worthy the brush of a Gainsborough, when, in her scarlet riding habit with its gilded buttons and gold lace trimming, and a wide-brimmed hat covered with ostrich plumes, she mounted her horse and dashed away, jumping fences, fallen trees, ditches, and brooks, with the skill of a cavalryman.

Within her palace walls she was no less forceful. A good housekeeper, every detail in the conduct of so large a house was at her fingers' ends. Although the product of the highest form of English education, she conformed easily to frontier customs and put her less educated and unfashionable guests fully at their ease by her affability and entire absence of any assumption of superiority. As one who knew her well has written of her, "She was indeed a rich-souled creature, in whom the first germs of womanhood had blossomed forth without a weed to check or a chill to blight their growth."

The stranger told his entertainers of what was going on in the East, while his two boatmen were conveying