"I was judge of that," was her response. "I saw her--Elisabeth--that girl. Then I saw what the future years meant for me. I tell you, I vowed with her, that night when I thought you two were wedded. I did more. I vowed myself to a new and wider world that night. Now, I have lost it. After all, seeing I could not now be a woman and be happy, I--Monsieur--I pass on to others, after this, not that torture of life, but that torturing _principle_ of which we so often spoke. Yes, I, even as I am; because by this--this act--this sacrifice--I can win you for her. And I can win that wider America which you have coveted; which I covet for you--which I covet _with_ you!" I could do no more than remain silent, and allow her to explain what was not in the least apparent to me. After a time she went on. "Now--now, I say--Pakenham the minister is sunk in Pakenham the man. He does as I demand--because he is a man. He signs what I demand because I am a woman. I say, to-night--but, see!" She hastened now to a little desk, and caught up a folded document which lay there. This she handed to me, unfolded, and I ran it over with a hasty glance. It was a matter of tremendous importance which lay in those few closely written lines. England's minister offered, over the signature of England, a compromise of the whole Oregon debate, provided this country would accept the line of the forty-ninth degree! That, then, was Pakenham's price for this key that lay here. "This--this is all I have been able to do with him thus far," she faltered. "It is not enough. But I did it for you!" "Madam, this is more than all America has been able to do before! This has not been made public?" "No, no! It is not enough. But to-night I shall make him surrender all--all north, to the very ice, for America, for the democracy! See, now, I was born to be devoted, immolated, after all, as my mother was before me. That is fate! But I shall make fate pay! Ah, Monsieur! Ah, Monsieur!" She flung herself to her feet. "I can get it all for you, you and yours!" she reiterated, holding out her hands, the little pink fingers upturned, as was often her gesture. "You shall go to your chief and tell him that Mr. Polk was right--that you yourself, who taught Helena von Ritz what life is, taught her that after all she was a woman--are able, because she was a woman, to bring in your own hands all that country, yes, to fifty-four forty, or even farther. I do not know what all can be done. I only know that a fool will part with everything for the sake of his body." I stood now looking at her, silent, trying to fathom the vastness of what she said, trying to understand at all their worth the motives which impelled her. The largeness of her plan, yes, that could be seen. The largeness of her heart and brain, yes, that also. Then, slowly, I saw yet more. At last I understood. What I saw was a horror to my soul.