"Precisely. All the world knows that, or thinks it does. It thinks it knows that Mr. Jefferson is implacable. But suppose all the world were set to wondering? I am just wondering myself if it would be right to suborn a juryman, like John Randolph of Roanoke!"[6] [Footnote 6: The import of the visit of Governor Lewis and Mrs. Alston to the court-room during the Burr trial is better conveyed if there be held in mind the personality of that eccentric and extraordinary man, so prominent in the history of America and the traditions of Virginia--John Randolph of Roanoke. Irascible, high-voiced, high-headed, truculent, insolent, vitriolic--yet gallant, courteous, kind, just, and fair; the enemy and the friend in turn of almost every public man of his day; truckling to none, defiant of all, sure to do what could not be predicted of any other man--it was always certain that John Randolph of Roanoke would do what he liked, and do what--for that present time--he fancied to be just.
Now the ardent adherent, again the bitter caluminator of Jefferson, it would be held probable that John Randolph of Roanoke would do what he fancied Thomas Jefferson had not asked him to do, or had asked him not to do. But the shrewd old man at Washington spoke advisedly when he said that John Randolph of Roanoke would try the Burr case in the jury-room, and himself preside as judge, counsel, and jury all in one!] "That is impossible. What do you mean?"
"I mean this. This afternoon you and I will go into the trial-room together. I have not yet attended a session of the court. Today I will hand you to your seat in full sight of the jury box."
"You--give your presence to one who is now a social pariah? The ladies of Richmond no longer speak to me. But to what purpose?"
"Perhaps to small purpose. I cannot tell. But let us suppose that I go with you, and that we sit there in sight of all. I am known to be the intimate friend of Mr. Jefferson. Ergo----"
"Ergo, Mr. Jefferson is not hostile to us! And you would do that--you would take that chance?"
"For you."
And he did--for her! That afternoon all the crowded court-room saw the beadle make way for two persons of importance. One was a tall, grave, distinguished-looking man, impassive, calm, a man whose face was known to all--the new Governor of Louisiana, viceroy of the country that Burr had lost. Upon his arm, pale, clad all in black, walked the daughter of the prisoner at the bar!
Was it in defiance or in compliance that this act was done? Was it by orders, or against orders, or without orders, that the President's best friend walked in public, before all the world, with the daughter of the President's worst enemy? It was the guess of anybody and the query of all.