t told wonderful things--things which ought to have
interested any one. But to Edna it was as dry as a meal of stale crusts.
It supported her in her fidelity and allegiance as such a meal would have
supported a half-famished man, but that was all. Her soul could not live
on such nutriment as this.

He had not begun the letter "My dear Wife," as he had done before. It
was not necessary now that his letters should be used as proof that she
was his widow! He had plunged instantly into the subject-matter, and had
signed it after the most friendly fashion. He was not even coming to her!
There was so much to do which must be done immediately, and could not be
done without him. He had telegraphed to his bankers, and one of the firm
and several clerks were already with him. There were great difficulties
yet before him, in which he needed the aid of financial counsellors and
those who had influence with the authorities. His vessel, the _Arato_,
had no papers, and he believed no cargo of such value had ever entered a
port of France as that contained in the little green-hulled schooner
which he had sailed into the harbor of Marseilles. This cargo must be
landed openly. It must be shipped to various financial centres, and what
was to be done required so much prudence, knowledge, and discretion that
without the aid of the house of Wraxton, Fuguet & Co., he believed his
difficulties would have been greater than when he stood behind the wall
of gold on the shore of the Patagonian island.

He did not even ask her to come to him. In a day or so, he wrote, it
might be necessary for him to go to Berlin, and whether or not he would
travel to London from the German capital, he could not say, and for this
reason he could not invite any of them to come down to him.

"Any of us!" exclaimed Edna.

For more than an hour Mrs. Cliff lay in the state of palpitation which
pervaded her whole organization, waiting for Edna to call her. And at
last she could wait no longer, and rushed into the salon where Edna sat
alone, the letter in her hand.

"What does he say?" she cried, "Is he well? Where is he? Did he get
the gold?"

Edna looked at her for a moment without answering. "Yes," she said
presently, "he is well. He is in Marseilles. The gold--" And for a moment
she did not remember whether or not the captain had it.

"Oh, do say something!" almost screamed Mrs. Cliff. "What is it? Shall I
read the letter? What does he say?"

This recalled Edn