"Madam," said I to her, at last, "did you indeed think me so cheap as that? Come here!" I led her to the central apartment, and motioned her to a seat. "Now, then, Madam, much has been done here, as you say. It is all that ever can be done. You shall not see Pakenham to-night, nor ever again!" "But think what that will cost you!" she broke out. "This is only part. It should _all_ be yours." I flung the document from me. "This has already cost too much," I said. "We do not buy states thus." "But it will cost you your future! Polk is your enemy, now, as he is Calhoun's. He will not strike you now, but so soon as he dares, he will. Now, if you could do this--if you could take this to Mr. Calhoun, to America, it would mean for you personally all that America could give you in honors." "Honors without honor, Madam, I do not covet," I replied. Then I would have bit my tongue through when I saw the great pallor cross her face at the cruelty of my speech. "And _myself_?" she said, spreading out her hands again. "But no! I know you would not taunt me. I know, in spite of what you say, there must be a sacrifice. Well, then, I have made it. I have made my atonement. I say I can give you now, even thus, at least a part of Oregon. I can perhaps give you _all_ of Oregon--to-morrow! The Pakenhams have always dared much to gain their ends. This one will dare even treachery to his country. To-morrow--if I do not kill him--if I do not die--I can perhaps give you all of Oregon--bought--bought and ... paid!" Her voice trailed off into a whisper which seemed loud as a bugle call to me. "No, you can not give us Oregon," I answered. "We are men, not panders. We fight; we do not traffic thus. But you have given me Elisabeth!" "My rival!" She smiled at me in spite of all. "But no, not my rival. Yes, I have already given you her and given you to her. To do that--to atone, as I said, for my attempt to part you--well, I will give Mr. Pakenham the key that Sir Richard Pakenham of England lately held. I told you a woman pays, _body_ and soul! In what coin fate gave me, I will pay it. You think my morals mixed. No, I tell you I am clean! I have only bought my own peace with my own conscience! Now, at last, Helena von Ritz knows why she was born, to what end! I have a work to do, and, yes, I see it now--my journey to America after all was part of the plan of fate. I have learned much--through you, Monsieur." Hurriedly she turned and left me, passing through the heavy draperies which cut off the room where stood the great satin couch. I saw her cast herself there, her arms outflung. Slow, deep and silent sobs shook all her body.