Historical fiction; Oregon Territory -- History -- Fiction; United States -- History -- 1815-1861 -- Fiction
I saw all this; but ere I had finished my first hurried glance I had
accepted her, as always one must, just as she was; had accepted her
surroundings, preposterously impossible as they all were from any
logical point of view, as fitting to herself and to her humor. It was
not for me to ask how or why she did these things. She had done them;
because, here they were; and here was she. We had found England's woman
on the Columbia!
"Yes," said she at length, slowly, "yes, I now believe it to be fate."
She had not yet smiled. I took her hand and held it long. I felt glad to
see her, and to take her hand; it seemed pledge of friendship; and as
things now were shaping, I surely needed a friend.
At last, her face flushing slightly, she disengaged her hand and
motioned me to a seat. But still we stood silent for a few moments.
"Have you _no_ curiosity?" said she at length.
"I am too happy to have curiosity, my dear Madam."
"You will not even ask me why I am here?" she insisted.
"I know. I have known all along. You are in the pay of England. When I
missed you at Montreal, I knew you had sailed on the _Modesté_ for
Oregon We knew all this, and planned for it. I have come across by land
to meet you. I have waited. I greet you now!"
She looked me now clearly in the face. "I am not sure," said she at
length, slowly.
"Not sure of what, Madam? When you travel on England's warship," I
smiled, "you travel as the guest of England herself. If, then, you are
not for England, in God's name, _whose friend are you?"_
"Whose friend am I?" she answered slowly. "I say to you that I do not
know. Nor do I know who is my friend. A friend--what is that? I never
knew one!"
"Then be mine. Let me be your friend. You know my history. You know
about me and my work. I throw my secret into your hands. You will not
betray me? You warned me once, at Montreal. Will you not shield me once
again?"
She nodded, smiling now in an amused way. "Monsieur always takes the
most extraordinary times to visit me! Monsieur asks always the most
extraordinary things! Monsieur does always the most extraordinary acts!
He takes me to call upon a gentleman in a night robe! He calls upon me
himself, of an evening, in dinner dress of hides and beads--"
"'Tis the best I have, Madam!" I colored, but her eye had not
criticism, though her speech had mockery.
"This is the costume of your American savages," she said. "I find it
among the most beautiful I have ever seen. Only a man can wear it. You
wear it like a man. I like you in it--I have never liked you so well.
Betray you, Monsieur? Why should I? How could I?"
"That is true. Why should you? You are Helena von Ritz. One of her
breeding does not betray men or women. Neither does she make any
journeys of this sort without a purpose."
"I had a purpose, when I started. I changed it in mid-ocean. Now, I was
on my way to the Orient."
"And had forgotten your report to Mr. Pakenham?" I shook my head.
"Madam, you are the guest of England."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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