When this was done they put on their outer garments and were ready to leave the ship—only waiting for Lieutenant Ethel, who had a few last orders to give before accompanying them on shore.
Justin and Britomarte sat in the stern.
“My sister,” said the young man, “let me be a brother to you in reality. We are about to leave the ship which has been our home so long. The greater part of our effects has perished in the using, and the greater part of our means is lost. Tell me now, as you would tell your brother, what are your plans for the future, Britomarte?”
“I will,” she answered, frankly. “Certainly my wardrobe is rather dilapidated, and nearly three years behind the time; but still, as it is clean and whole, I hope it will be considered decent and passable. For the rest I have about thirty dollars in gold, which you saved with my other effects from the wreck. This will suffice to take me to Washington, and keep me for a few days.”
“And then?”
“As Heaven wills.”
Justin groaned.
“Oh, Britomarte, my beloved! that you would give me a legal right to protect you!”
“Justin! no more of that I implore you, if we are to retain even the semblance of friendship,” she exclaimed.
“It is but a semblance on your part, at least, I sometimes think,” said Justin, bitterly; then quickly repenting the injustice of his words, he added—“But no! you saved my life at the most imminent hazard of your own. Yes, your friendship, Britomarte, passes the love of other women. Yet, oh, my soul! why is it, why, that you abjure the only relation in which we can rationally stand to each other? Well, well—I will not ask you. I will try to be silent on that subject—silent forever! I——” his voice quite broke down and he covered his working features with his hand.