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!"