Mr. Hartley could not repress a gentle smile. “The chance of being gored is so very, very small,” he observed, “that it may fearlessly be encountered. In all my thirty years’ experience I never knew of one European being gored, and scarcely more than four—no, five—that have even been run at by buffalo or bull.” “I might be a sixth,” observed Alicia. “What protection have I against such an accident, going about, as I must sometimes go, all alone, in a country that seems to swarm with horned cattle?” “I think that my daughter should find her safeguard in the words, ‘Fear not, for I am with thee.’ God’s grace enables us to reply, ‘I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.’ It should be a missionary’s privilege to fear nothing but sin.” “I am afraid that I shall never be a good missionary,” sighed Alicia. “Harold should have chosen a stout-hearted, strong-minded wife.” “Harold is very well contented with his choice,” cried a familiar voice behind her, and a kiss followed the words. “Do not be discouraged, my love, at a little difficulty at the first start. With patience, pains, and prayer you will be a capital missionary yet.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IX TRY AGAIN. THE following morning, Alicia timidly said to her husband, “If you approve, Harold, I think that I will try again to enter the fort. I have been praying about it.” “That’s my brave little bride!” said Harold. “I will make arrangements to prevent your being exposed to any unnecessary alarm or annoyance. Kripá Dé shall meet you at the outer gate, pilot you across the court-yard, and usher you into the presence of the purdah-nishins” (women secluded in their zenanas). “Is Kripá, who is almost if not quite grown up, allowed to enter the ladies’ apartments?” “Oh yes,” was Harold’s reply: “lads brought up in zenanas are allowed the freedom of them, even when no longer mere boys. I have heard lady missionaries say that they find their best listeners amongst such youths, especially in those who have received some light from attending a mission school. Kripá Dé’s aunt is, I understand, the wife of the principal sircar of the fort; she is, in fact, the greatest lady in Talwandi. If the way were not made thus straight before you, I should hardly sanction your going at all, young as you are, and inexperienced. Now my great, I may say my sole, hope of reaching the women of Talwandi is through my Alicia.”