“And that,” said Edna, “is all of the letter that I need read, except that he tells me he expects to write again before he starts, and that his address after he sails will be Wraxton, Fuguet & Co., American bankers in Paris.”

CHAPTER XXVII

EDNA MAKES HER PLANS

When she had finished reading the many pages of the letter, Edna leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes.  Ralph sat upright in his chair and gazed intently before him.

“So we are not to see the captain again,” he said presently.  “But I suppose that when a man has a thing to do, the best thing is to go and do it.”

“Yes,” said his sister, “that is the best thing.”

“And what are we to do?”

“I am now trying to decide,” she answered.

“Doesn’t he say anything about it?”

“Not a word,” replied Edna.  “I suppose he considered he had made his letter long enough.”

About an hour after this, when the two met again, Edna said:  “I have been writing to Captain Horn, and am going to write to Mrs. Cliff.  I have decided what we shall do.  I am going to France.”

“To France!” cried Ralph.  “Both of us?”

“Yes, both of us.  I made up my mind about this since I saw you.”

“What are you going to France for?” he exclaimed.  “Come, let us have it all—­quick.”

“I am going to France,” said his sister, “because Captain Horn is going there, and when he arrives, I wish to be there to meet him.  There is no reason for our staying here—­”

“Indeed, there is not,” interpolated Ralph, earnestly.

“If we must go anywhere to wait,” continued his sister, “I should prefer Paris.”

“Edna,” cried Ralph, “you are a woman of solid sense, and if the captain wants his gold divided up, he should get you to do it.  And now, when are we going, and is Mrs. Cliff to go?  What are you going to do with the two darkies?”

“We shall start East as soon as the captain sails,” replied his sister, “and I do not know what Mrs. Cliff will do until I hear from her, and as for Cheditafa and Mok, we shall take them with us.”

“Hurrah!” cried Ralph.  “Mok for my valet in Paris.  That’s the best thing I have got out of the caves yet.”

Captain Horn was a strong man, prompt in action, and no one could know him long without being assured of these facts.  But although Edna’s outward personality was not apt to indicate quickness of decision and vigor of purpose, that quickness and vigor were hers quite as much as the captain’s when occasion demanded, and occasion demanded them now.  The captain had given no indication of what he would wish her to do during the time which would be occupied by his voyage to Peru, his work there, and his subsequent long cruise around South America to Europe.  She expected that in his next letter he would say something about this, but she wished first to say something herself.