He
thought the people already understood the case fairly well and would
be more and more of the opinion that he had tried to do the things
that were right, "with malice toward none and charity for all." We
talked until midnight. It was a Friday morning, and the President was
doomed to be shot the next day. The assassin had been on his path that
night. The President had gone out dining for the last time.
"And you will not go to Williams College with me?" he said.
I said: "Mr. President, you have forgotten you were assailed for being
in my company to Chautauqua; and I have been so fortunate since as to
gather a fresh crop of enemies, and do not want them to jump on to you
on my account--for there are enough upon you already."
That, the President said, was "curious and interesting," and he
laughed about my "fresh crop," and said something about cutting hay;
and I told him I had been invited to meet him Saturday night at Cyrus
W. Field's country place, where a dinner party was appointed; and
jumping up, hurried away. The light in the hall shone down on the
President's pale, high forehead, as he walked toward the stairway
leading to his apartments, and I saw him no more.
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