As the ship drew nearer and nearer, she showed herself to be a large vessel—­a handsome bark.  About half a mile from the shore, she lay to, and very soon a boat was lowered.

Edna’s heart beat rapidly and her face flushed as, with Ralph’s spy-glass to her eyes, she scanned the people in the boat as it pulled away from the ship.

“Can you make out the captain?” cried Ralph, at her side.

She shook her head, and handed him the glass.  For full five minutes the boy peered through it, and then he lowered the glass.

“Edna,” said he, “he isn’t in it.”

“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Cliff, “do you mean to say that the captain is not in that boat?”

“I am sure of it,” said Ralph.  “And if he isn’t in the boat, of course he is not on the ship.  Perhaps he did not have anything to do with that vessel’s coming here.  It may have been tacking in this direction, and so come near enough for people to see my signal.”

“Don’t suppose things,” said Edna, a little sharply.  “Wait until the boat comes in, and then we will know all about it.—­Here, Cheditafa,” said she, “you and Mok go out into the water and help run that boat ashore as soon as it is near enough.”

It was a large boat containing five men, and when it had been run up on the sand, and its occupants had stepped out, the man at the tiller, who proved to be the second mate of the bark, came forward and touched his hat.  As he did so, no sensible person could have imagined that he had accidentally discovered them.  His manner plainly showed that he had expected to find them there.  The conviction that this was so made the blood run cold in Edna’s veins.  Why had not the captain come himself?

The man in command of the boat advanced toward the two ladies, looking from one to the other as he did so.  Then, taking a letter from the pocket of his jacket, he presented it to Edna.

“Mrs. Horn, I believe,” he said.  “Here is a letter from your husband.”

Now, it so happened that to Mrs. Cliff, to Edna, and to Ralph this recognition of matrimonial status seemed to possess more force and value than the marriage ceremony itself.

Edna’s face grew as red as roses as she took the letter.

“From my husband,” she said; and then, without further remark, she stepped aside to read it.

But Mrs. Cliff and Ralph could not wait for the reading of the letter.  They closed upon the mate, and, each speaking at the same moment, demanded of him what had happened to Captain Horn, why he had not come himself, where he was now, was this ship to take them away, and a dozen similar questions.  The good mariner smiled at their impatience, but could not wonder at it, and proceeded to tell them all he knew about Captain Horn and his plans.

The captain, he said, had arrived at Callao some time since, and immediately endeavored to get a vessel in which to go after the party he had left, but was unable to do so.  There was nothing in port which answered his purpose.  The captain seemed to be very particular about the craft in which he would be willing to trust his wife and the rest of the party.