The patroon turned to her and made an angry gesture to depart. She withdrew into the house immediately and I saw no more of her. When the company of soldiers broke up for the night, they disappeared right and left, passing around and behind the house. Van Volkenberg entered the manor-house by the same door through which the woman had retreated. From what I had been told about the position of the manor I was able to find without difficulty the road that led to New York. As I walked along it my mind was full of the mystery of the strange woman I had seen upon the terrace, and of her I had seen in my dream. Had I really met some one, and had I been but partly conscious of the fact? I could not tell. Of one thing, however, I was aware. My spirit had returned to me. As Lady Marmaduke would have said, I was a man again. I was now firm with determination. I had been through the valley of the shadow. I had come out with new strength ready to fight the good fight. I felt myself to be God’s avenging minister, destined to bring punishment upon my sister’s murderer. I knelt down in the dusty road, where I prayed to God for power and guidance. I rose from my prayer buoyant and eager in spirit. Still I could not get my mind away from the woman. Were they one and the same person or had I made a mistake? The woman upon the terrace must have been the person Captain Tew had spoken of as Miriam Van Volkenberg. But if she was the patroon’s daughter, how came she to figure in my dream? What trick of fate had coupled her and Ruth and me together in this fashion? Then I recalled what Pierre had said: That the patroon’s daughter had loved Ruth and had been treated badly on account of her affection. That seemed to explain the fitness of it all, but it did not reconcile the reality with the dream. In this frame of mind I approached New York. I continued to ponder that sweet, wistful face. Gradually, as I walked along in the dust and dark, I became aware of a narrow pressure about my neck. I put up my hand and touched a strange piece of ribbon. I caught at it in surprise. My fingers closed on a small locket. I held it before me in the moonlight. It was the ivory miniature in a gold rim; the very picture of myself that the woman had shown me in my dream. Then I understood. I had met Miriam Van Volkenberg in the woods. She had recognized me from the picture in the locket and had given me this keepsake from my sister. CHAPTER X MY FIRST COMMISSION When I returned to Marmaduke Hall I found every one in bed asleep except a lad who had been left to attend me to my room. He informed me that his mistress had been impatient at my absence, had inquired again and again where I could be, and at last had given up waiting for me, very much vexed at my failure to return. “She was in a great state to see you,” said the lad, “and she left word for you to be at her breakfast table early, by nine o’clock.”