duty as the United States Attorney," Philip Alston said warmly. "I was
just going to remind you of the journey that he made across the
wilderness from Kentucky to St. Louis to find out, if he could, at first
hand, what treason Aaron Burr was plotting over there with the
commandant of the military post as a tool. He didn't find out a great
deal. That old fox knows how to cover his tracks. But the
attorney-general did more than any one else could have done. He hauled
Burr to trial, almost single-handed, and against the greatest public
clamor. He leaves nothing undone in the pursuit of his duty. I
understand that he is to be here soon. He thinks that something should
be done to put down the lawlessness of this country as Andrew Jackson
has subdued it in his territory."

"But he must, of course, resign the office, if he intends going to
Tippecanoe," said William Pressley.

He was so intent upon this one point of interest to himself that he had
scarcely heard what had been said. He now turned with dignified
impatience when his aunt broke in, speaking from the hearth. Miss
Penelope always spoke with a greater or less degree of suddenness and
irrelevance. She commonly said what she had to say at the instant that
the thought occurred to her, regardless of what others might be talking
or thinking about. The tenor of nearly everything that she said was
singularly gloomy. Her mind was full of superstition of a homely,
domestic kind. She was a great believer in signs, and the signs with
which she was most familiar were usually forewarnings of some great and
mysterious public or private calamity. Her voice was remarkably soft,
low, and sweet, so that to hear these alarming threats and these
appalling prophecies uttered in the tones of a cooing dove, was very
singular indeed.