The fire was burning, and breakfast was already on the table. It
was precisely similar to the supper of the night previous. The old
man sat at the fireside smoking a pipe.
"Good morning, general," said Harry. "I am up late."
"It is no matter. You have a long journey before you, and it is
well to rest before starting."
"Where does he think I am going?" thought our hero.
"Breakfast is ready," said the old man, hospitably. "I can't
entertain you now as I could have done when I was President. You
must come and see me at the White House next year."
"I should like to."
Harry ate a hearty breakfast. When it was over, he rose to go.
"I must be going, general," he said. "Thank you for your kind
entertainment. If you would allow me to pay you."
"General Jackson does not keep an inn," said the old man, with
dignity. "You are his guest. I have your instructions ready."
He opened a drawer in the table, and took a roll of foolscap, tied
with a string.
"Put it in your bundle," he said. "Let no one see it. Above all,
don't let it fall into the hands of Henry Clay, or my life will be
in peril."
Harry solemnly assured him that Henry Clay should never see it, and
shaking the old man by the hand, made his way across the fields to
the main road. Looking back from time to time, he saw the old man
watching him from his place in the doorway, his eyes shaded by his
hand.
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