THEO found that Aaron had not exaggerated the ‹lumbers of his friends and supporters in Richmond. There were many who thought him a martyr to Jefferson's petty persecution. They rallied around the charming Mrs. Alston, deluging her with hospitality. In obedience to her father's wishes, she entertained and was entertained. There were nightly routs or musicales or dances. The town was crammed with visitors, who streamed in on foot, on horseback, in the stages, or in elegant Italian chaises. They slept four in a bed in the taverns, and in private houses the children were banished to the attics to make room for guests.

Besides the curiosity-seekers, there was a multitude whose presence was legitimate: witnesses, journalists, and an array of lawyers for both sides. There were distinguished names for the prosecution—the United States District Attorney, George Hay; that flower of oratory, William Wirt; and Alexander McRae, the Lieutenant-Governor of Virginia.

Aaron's own array of talent was no less impressive—Edmund Randolph and Benjamin Botts and John Wickham were minor stars revolving around the huge bibulous bulk of Luther Martin. With the latter gentleman's defense Aaron had not been pleased. It was perfunctory and, all too frequently, unintelligible because of his habit of enlivening the tedious court proceedings with copious swigs from a large black bottle which he kept concealed beneath his coat-tails.

'See, my dear, if you cannot induce in him a more serious attitude toward my fate,' said Aaron on one of Theodosia's daily visits to the jail.

And she had succeeded brilliantly. The yellow brocade dress and the diamonds were bewitching. The rouge was unnecessary that evening. She had felt well and confident. The admiring glances, the little sympathetic murmurs which followed upon her entrance to the Richard Keenes' drawingrooms buoyed her and gave her an assured sparkle. Luther Martin had come to her side at once, his eyes brightening. And she had charmed the old man with smiles and flattery, made him feel that he was a gay dog indeed.

'Egad, I'm half in love with the lovely Mrs. Alston,' he told everyone, slapping his great thighs and reaching for his bottle. 'Did I know no other good of Burr—and I do, mind ye—it would be enough for me that he has such a daughter.'

And Theodosia, hearing this roar from the other end of the room, had smiled and been well content: especially as the ultimate object was obtained, and Martin's handling of the case increased in fervor.

But every morning the carnival spirit, the gaiety, and the certainty that, after all, this was—as Aaron said—but a temporary embarrassment, were dimmed by the grimness of the courtroom. Each morning Theo entered the Capitol and was ushered to her seat in the gallery. Then, with the majestic arrival of John Marshall on the bench, the three imperative knocks of the gavel, the appearance of Aaron under heavy guard in the prisoner's box, her courage ebbed.