"How now, Nick, my son?" began my chief. "Have staff and scrip been your portion so long that you are wholly wedded to them? Come, I think the night might promise you something of interest. I assure you of one thing--you will receive no willing answer from the fair baroness. She will scoff at you, and perhaps bid you farewell. See to it, then; do what you like, but bring her _with_ you, and bring her _here_. "You will realize the importance of all this when I tell you that my answer to Mr. Tyler must be in before noon to-morrow. That answer will depend upon the answer the Baroness von Ritz makes to _me_, here, to-night! I can not go to her, so she must come to me. You have often served me well, my son. Serve me to-night. My time is short; I have no moves to lose. It is you who will decide before morning whether or not John Calhoun is the next secretary of state. And that will decide whether or not Texas is to be a state." I had never seen Mr. Calhoun so intent, so absorbed. We all three now sat silent in the little room where the candles guttered in the great glass _cylindres_ on the mantel--an apartment scarce better lighted by the further aid of lamps fed by oil. "He might be older," said Calhoun at length, speaking of me as though I were not present. "And 'tis a hard game to play, if once my lady Helena takes it into her merry head to make it so for him. But if I sent one shorter of stature and uglier of visage and with less art in approaching a crinoline--why, perhaps he would get no farther than her door. No; he will serve--he _must_ serve!" He arose now, and bowed to us both, even as I rose and turned for my cloak to shield me from the raw drizzle which then was falling in the streets. Doctor Ward reached down his own shaggy top hat from the rack. "To bed with you now, John," said he sternly. "No, I must write." "You heard me say, to bed with you! A stiff toddy to make you sleep. Nicholas here may wake you soon enough with his mysterious companion. I think to-morrow will be time enough for you to work, and to-morrow very likely will bring work for you to do." Calhoun sighed. "God!" he exclaimed, "if I but had back my strength! If there were more than those scant remaining years!" "Go!" said he suddenly; and so we others passed down his step and out into the semi-lighted streets. So this, then, was my errand. My mind still tingled at its unwelcome quality. Doctor Ward guessed something of my mental dissatisfaction. "Never mind, Nicholas," said he, as we parted at the street corner, where he climbed into the rickety carriage which his colored driver held awaiting him. "Never mind. I don't myself quite know what Calhoun wants; but he would not ask of you anything personally improper. Do his errand, then. It is part of your work. In any case--" and I thought I saw him grin in the dim light--"you may have a night which you will remember." There proved to be truth in what he said. CHAPTER III IN ARGUMENT