aid, there was something in the stature or carriage or
garb of this woman which caused me idly to follow her, at first with my
eyes and then with my footsteps.

She passed steadily on toward a long and low log cabin, located a short
distance beyond the quarters which had been assigned to me. I saw her
step up to the door and heard her knock; then there came a flood of
light--more light than was usual in the opening of the door of a
frontier cabin. This displayed the figure of the night walker, showing
her tall and gaunt and a little stooped; so that, after all, I took her
to be only one of our American frontier women, being quite sure that she
was not Indian or half-breed.

This emboldened me, on a mere chance--an act whose mental origin I could
not have traced--to step up to the door after it had been closed, and
myself to knock thereat. If it were a party of Americans here, I wished
to question them; if not, I intended to make excuses by asking my way
to my own quarters. It was my business to learn the news of Oregon.

I heard women's voices within, and as I knocked the door opened just a
trifle on its chain. I saw appear at the crack the face of the woman
whom I had followed.

She was, as I had believed, old and wrinkled, and her face now, seen
close, was as mysterious, dark and inscrutable as that of any Indian
squaw. Her hair fell heavy and gray across her forehead, and her eyes
were small and dark as those of a native woman. Yet, as she stood there
with the light streaming upon her, I saw something in her face which
made me puzzle, ponder and start--and put my foot within the crack of
the door.

When she found she could not close the door, she called out in some
foreign tongue. I heard a voice answer. The blood tingled in the roots
of my hair!

"Threlka," I said quietly, "tell Madam the Baroness it is I, Monsieur
Trist, of Washington."

CHAPTER XXVII

IN THE CABIN OF MADAM

Woman must not belong to herself; she is bound to alien
destinies.--_Friedrich von Schiller_.

With an exclamation of surprise the old woman departed from the door. I
heard the rustle of a footfall. I could have told in advance what face
would now appear outlined in the candle glow--with eyes wide and
startled, with lips half parted in query. It was the face of Helena,
Baroness von Ritz!

"_Eh bien!_ madam, why do you bar me out?" I said, as though we had
parted but yesterday.

In her sheer astonishment, I pre