The adventures of Captain Horn/Chapter 27
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.
She did not know this bold sailor as well as she loved him, and she was not at all sure that the plans he might make for her during his absence would suit her disposition or her purposes. Consequently, she resolved to submit her plans to him before he should write again. Above everything else, she wished to be in that part of the world at which Captain Horn might be expected to arrive when his present adventure should be accomplished. She did not wish to be sent for to go to France. She did not wish to be told that he was coming to America. Wherever he might land, there she would be.
The point that he might be unsuccessful, and might never leave South America, did not enter into her consideration. She was acting on the basis that he was a man who was likely to succeed in his endeavors. If she should come to know that he had not succeeded, then her actions would be based upon the new circumstances.
Furthermore, she had now begun to make plans for her future life. She had been waiting for Captain Horn to come to her, and to find out what he intended to do. Now she knew he was not coming to her for a long time, and was aware of what he intended to do, and she made her own plans. Of course, she dealt only with the near future. All beyond that was vague, and she could not touch it, even with her thoughts. When sending his remittances, the captain had written that she and Mrs. Cliff must consider the money he sent her as income to be expended, not as principal to be put away or invested. He had made provisions for the future of all of them, in case he should not succeed in his present project, and what he had not set aside with that view he had devoted to his own operations, and to the maintenance, for a year, of Edna, Ralph, and Mrs. Cliff, in such liberal and generous fashion as might please them, and he had apportioned the remittances in a way which he deemed suitable. As Edna disbursed the funds, she knew that this proportion was three quarters for herself and Ralph, and one quarter for Mrs. Cliff.
"He divides everything into four parts," she thought, "and gives me his share."
Acting on her principle of getting every good thing out of life that life could give her, and getting it while life was able to give it to her, there was no doubt in regard to her desires. Apart from her wish to go where the captain expected to go, she considered that every day now spent in America was a day lost. If her further good fortune should never arrive, and the money in hand should be gone, she wished, before that time came, to engraft upon her existence a period of life in Europe—life of such freedom and opportunity as never before she had had a right to dream of.
Across this golden outlook there came a shadow. If he had wished to come to her, she would have waited for him anywhere, or if he had wished her to go to him, she would have gone anywhere. But it seemed as if that mass of gold, which brought them together, must keep them apart, a long time certainly, perhaps always. Nothing that had happened had had any element of certainty about it, and the future was still less certain. If he had come to her before undertaking the perilous voyage now before him, there would have been a certainty in her life which would have satisfied her forever. But he did not come. It was plainly his intention to have nothing to do with the present until the future should be settled, so far as he could settle it.
In a few days after she had written to Captain Horn, informing him of the plans she had made to go to France, Edna received an answer which somewhat disappointed her. If the captain's concurrence in her proposed foreign sojourn had not been so unqualified and complete, if he had proposed even some slight modification, if he had said anything which would indicate that he felt he had authority to oppose her movements if he did not approve of them,—in fact, even if he had opposed her plan,—she would have been better pleased. But he wrote as if he were her financial agent, and nothing more. The tone of his letter was kind, the arrangements he said he had made in regard to the money deposited in San Francisco showed a careful concern for her pleasure and convenience, but nothing in his letter indicated that he believed himself possessed in any way of the slightest control over her actions. There was nothing like a sting in that kind and generous letter, but when she had read it, the great longing of Edna's heart turned and stung her. But she would give no sign of this wound. She was a brave woman, and could wait still longer.
The captain informed her that everything was going well with his enterprise—that Burke had arrived, and had agreed to take part in the expedition, and that he expected that his brig, the Miranda, would be ready in less than a week. He mentioned again that he was extremely busy with his operations, but he did not say that he was sorry he was unable to come to take leave of her. He detailed in full the arrangements he had made, and then placed in her hands the entire conduct of the financial affairs of the party until she should hear from him again. When he arrived in France, he would address her in care of his bankers, but in regard to two points only did he now say anything which seemed like a definite injunction or even request. He asked Edna to urge upon Mrs. Cliff the necessity of saying nothing about the discovery of the gold, for if it should become known anywhere from Greenland to Patagonia, he might find a steamer lying off the Rackbirds' cove when his slow sailing-vessel should arrive there. The other request was that Edna keep the two negroes with her if this would not prove inconvenient. But if this plan would at all trouble her, he asked that they be sent to him immediately.
In answer to this letter, Edna merely telegraphed the captain, informing him that she would remain in San Francisco until she had heard that he had sailed when she would immediately start for the East, and for France, with Ralph and the two negroes.
Three days after this she received a telegram from Captain Horn, stating that he would sail in an hour, and the next day she and her little party took a train for New York.