“Here,” replied a voice half-choked from swift running.

All eyes were turned towards the doorway where she stood; her cheeks rosy, and her large black eyes filled with wonder, as she glanced rapidly over the assembly.

“Here I am,” she repeated, stepping forward.  “Do you wish me?”

Sister Agatha hesitated; she did not know exactly what answer to make.  How very unfortunate that Carmen should have been late on this particular day, thus rendering it impossible to prepare her beforehand for what might occur!  Even now Sister Agatha would gladly have spoken with her alone, and told her gently about the choice which had fallen upon her.  But Jonathan had already advanced to meet the girl.  He had resumed his usual manner, and as he fixed his eyes on the unsuspecting maiden, there was a certain air of assured triumph in his looks, as if he had her now securely in his power.

“Dear Sister Carmen,” he said, “you have, by your tardiness, missed hearing that Brother Daniel Becker has written to us from the land of the Caffres, and has desired us to choose a wife for him.  The lots have just now been cast, and the Lord has directed it to you.”

“To me?” said Carmen, with an air of perplexity, turning her astonished glance on the speaker, as if she did not understand what he was saying.

“Yes, to you, dear Sister,” continued Jonathan, with a louder voice; “and I hope you will receive this choice humbly, as becomes you, and accept your position as Brother Daniel’s wife—­” he hesitated a moment, and then added with emphasis; “if you are not already betrothed to some other man.”

Carmen’s eyes flashed with anger, and she drew herself up proudly.

“Cast lots for me!” she exclaimed bitterly; “disposed of me at a chance, as if I were a bale of goods, a lifeless piece of machinery!  Promised me to a man to whom no impulse of my heart draws me; to whom it is quite indifferent whether I or some other girl falls to his share—­and all in the name of religion!  This is indeed degradation, slavery!  It never could be worse among the slaves on the islands whose freedom you all have taken so much trouble to secure.”

She had spoken with all the passion of her warm nature stirred to its depths; and now she stopped, exhausted.  All color had vanished from her face; only the lustrous eyes glistened with a dangerous light.

“I will never submit to your inspired decision, and refuse to recognize this choice,” she said at length.

Every one looked at her in amazement, thunderstruck at this candid and straightforward announcement.  All at once, as if she had been struck with leprosy, the Sisters shrank back from her—­she stood alone in their midst; only Agatha approached her, and with an anxious look seized her hand.

“Dear Sister,” she commenced gently, “you are excited, and cannot listen to the higher voice.  Reflect a moment.”