Even through the tide of relief that left her knees shaking, she noted his contemptuous emphasis on the pronoun. She collapsed onto the sofa, lacing her hands together.

'Then it can't be so bad, if he is well.'

'Bad enough'. Joseph gloomily lit himself a cigar. 'He's killed Hamilton.'

She stared at him blankly. 'I don't understand.'

'He challenged Hamilton and they met at Weehawken July eleventh. Burr fired first and shot him in the side. He died two days later.'

'But what about Father?' she cried, comprehending but one aspect of this astounding news. 'Are you sure he wasn't wounded? How can you be sure? Oh, Joseph, for God's sake—speak!'

'I'm trying to tell you. He was not wounded. Hamilton's pistol was discharged into the air. I know because I have had two letters from Colonel Burr, and, besides, the papers are full of it.'

'That's why he didn't write me,' she murmured. The numb uncomprehension passed. She began to understand what had happened. She looked up at Joseph. 'Thank God, I didn't know beforehand. I should have been mad with terror. But it is well over. Hamilton was always his enemy. He gave him, I know, unbearable provocation. I always hated the man,' she added on a lower key, remembering the Creole's cold, disdainful eyes, the covert sneer in his voice.

Joseph impatiently flecked a cake of dry mud off his boot. 'It's not as simple as all that'. He was exasperated by her attitude, which seemed to him both callous and casual. 'There is a tremendous hullabaloo. The country has been incited by the press to consider the Colonel as a ruthless demon. And——' He hesitated. He had meant to break it gently, had spent three uncomfortable days and nights of travel worrying as to the best way of telling her. But her airy reception of the news changed that. She might as well know it all at once. 'Your father is being prosecuted for murder, Theodosia. He has fled from New York to escape hanging.'

She caught her breath sharply, springing to her feet. 'How can that be? It was a fair and honorable duel.'

Joseph shrugged his massive shoulders. 'I have no doubt it was, but they say not. At any rate, there has been a jury, and they have brought in a verdict of willful murder.'

'But it's incredible!' she cried. 'Duelists are never prosecuted. Why, General Hamilton's own son, Philip, was killed by George Eaker three years ago, and no one dreamed of prosecuting Eaker.'

'I know. The Colonel himself is amazed at the outcry against him. I confess I do not understand it, but there is no doubt of the seriousness of the matter.'