I was profoundly disappointed; and in the grief of my failure I forgot for a moment the august presence--which imposed on all men the respect which no sovereign could have inspired. “My God! sir,” I exclaimed, “and this traitor must live unpunished, and a man who did but what he believed to be his duty must suffer a death of shame!” Then, half scared, I looked up, feeling that I had said too much. He had risen before I spoke, meaning, no doubt, to bring my visit to an end, and was standing with his back to the fire, his admirable figure giving the impression of greater height than was really his. When, after my passionate speech, I looked up, having of course also risen, his face wore a look that was more solemn than any face of man I have ever yet seen in all my length of years. “There is a God, Mr. Wynne,” he said, “who punishes the traitor. Let us leave this man to the shame which every year must bring. Your scheme I cannot consider. I have no wish to conceal from you or from any gentleman what it has cost me to do that which, as God lives, I believe to be right. You, sir, have done your duty to your friend. And now may I ask of you not to prolong a too painful interview?” I bowed, saying, “I cannot thank your Excellency too much for the kindness with which you have listened to a rash young man.” “You have said nothing, sir, which does not do you honour. Make my humble compliments to Mistress Wynne.” I bowed, and, backing a pace or two, was about to leave, when he said, “Permit me to detain you a moment. Ask Mr. Harrison--the secretary--to come to me.” I obeyed, and then in some wonder stood still, waiting. “Mr. Harrison, fetch me Captain Wynne’s papers.” A moment later he sat down again, wrote the free signature, “Geo(e) Washington,” at the foot of a parchment, and gave it to me, saying, “That boy Hamilton has been troubling me for a month about this business. The commission is but now come to hand from Congress. You will report, at your early convenience, as major, to the colonel of the Third Pennsylvania foot; I hope it will gratify your aunt. Ah, Colonel Hamilton,” for here the favourite aide entered, “I have just signed Mr. Wynne’s commission.” Then he put a hand affectionately on the shoulder of the small, slight figure. “You will see that the orders are all given for the execution at noon. Not less than eighty files from each wing must attend. See that none of my staff be present, and that this house be kept closed to-morrow until night. I shall transact no business that is not such as to ask instant attention. See, in any case, that I am alone from eleven until one. Good-evening, Mr. Wynne; I hope that you will shortly honour me with your company at dinner. Pray, remember it, Mr. Hamilton.” I bowed and went out, overcome with the kindliness of this great and noble gentleman. “He likes young men,” said Hamilton to me long afterward. “An old officer would have been sent away with small comfort.”