rked hard and
earned his living, and when he came out he thought it well to leave
Paris, and he never found out the nature of the trick which he supposed
his old chief had played upon him.

The trial of Banker delayed the homeward journey of Captain Horn and his
party, for Cheditafa and Mok were needed as witnesses, but did not delay
it long. It was early in August, when the danger from floating icebergs
had almost passed, and when an ocean journey is generally most pleasant,
that nine happy people sailed from Havre for New York. Captain Horn and
Edna had not yet fully planned their future life, but they knew that they
had enough money to allow them to select any sphere of life toward which
ordinary human ambitions would be apt to point, and if they never
received another bar of the unapportioned treasure, they would not only
be preeminently satisfied with what fortune had done for them, but would
be relieved of the great responsibilities which greater fortune must
bring with it.

As for Mrs. Cliff, her mind was so full of plans for the benefit of her
native town that she could talk and think of nothing else, and could
scarcely be induced to take notice of a spouting whale, which was
engaging the attention of all the passengers and the crew.

The negroes were perfectly content. They were accustomed to the sea, and
did not mind the motion of the vessel. They had but little money in
their pockets, and had no reason to expect they would ever have much
more, but they knew that as long as they lived they would have everything
that they wanted, that the captain thought was good for them, and to a
higher earthly paradise their souls did not aspire. Cheditafa would serve
his mistress, Maka would serve the captain, and Mok would wear fine
clothes and serve his young master Ralph, whenever, haply, he should have
the chance.

As for Inkspot, he doubted whether or not he should ever have all the
whiskey he wanted, but he had heard that in the United States that
delectable fluid was very plentiful, and he thought that perhaps in that
blessed country that blessed beverage might not produce the undesirable
effects which followed its unrestricted use in other lands.

CHAPTER LIII

A LITTLE GLEAM AFAR

It was late in the autumn of that year, and upon a lonely moor in
Scotland, that a poor old woman stood shivering in the cold wind. She was
outside of a miserable little hut, in the doorway of which stood two men.

For f