“I cannot!—I will not! Do not ask me again! In the ‘old heroic days’ you are so fond of quoting, a true knight performed his task before he ventured to sue for his reward.” “And then?—and then, Britomarte?” “He did not always get it,” answered the man-hater. Justin bowed gravely to her and smiled quietly to himself. They were walking away from Lond’s Rock, where, indeed, they had already lingered too long; for the tide was now rising rapidly, threatening to cut off their retreat from the main. CHAPTER VI. BRITOMARTE’S PLAN. “But what then will you do, my child? I am an humble minister of God, even in his beneficent aspect of Father to the fatherless. As such I invite your confidence; trust in me.” These words were spoken by the old Lutheran clergyman to the beautiful man-hater, as he bent kindly over her, holding her hand, on the morning after their departure from the Rainbows. They were on board the _Leviathan_ and within a few miles of Washington. He had been urging upon her the oft-repeated, oft-rejected invitation to make his house her home. For the last time she gratefully declined the offered hospitality. “But what then will you do, my child?” he resumed, seeing that she remained silent and thoughtful. “Your old grandaunt has most unnaturally renounced you; nor indeed, if she had not, would Witch Elms be a desirable home for you. The people that Miss Pole retains around her, and the rumors that are afloat about the place, make it particularly objectionable as a residence for a young girl” “I will become a missionary,” answered Britomarte, stoutly, and neither prayers or commands could move her from this resolve. The Board of Foreign Missions were in want of teachers to join a company of missionaries whom they were about to send out to Farther India, and she had made up her mind to offer her services. Britomarte, after leaving Dr. Rosenthal, went down into the cabin to put up her effects, to be ready for landing. Erminie was already there, engaged in making similar preparations; but as soon as she saw Britomarte she threw herself into her friend’s arms and burst into a passion of tears. The prospect of separation from her queen was almost insupportable to the minister’s gentle child. “If it were only in pity for me, Britty, you might not leave me! I have no mother, nor sister, nor any one in the world but you! In mercy to me you might come with me!” “My darling—no one? Why, you have your father, your brother, and your lover,” said Miss Conyers, gently caressing her. “Oh! I mean no woman! It is so sad for a girl to have no woman friend. I feel it so. And yet it is not for myself either that I grieve, but for you who have neither father, brother, nor lover, as I have!”