Down The River Part 18

"I don't expect your father to believe it; but, if you want to fetch the constable, I think I can make him believe it."

"I went for the constable, but he was not in."

"Lucky for you!"

"You haven't told where you got that money."

"I don't mean to tell; but I think I can fetch some one to explain it, if the worst comes," I added.

It was useless to talk with him. My secret sealed my lips and tied my hands. I could do nothing, and it seemed like folly for me to stay and face my tyrants, who would enjoy my ruin. I could appeal to the senator to save me; but, if he did so, it would be at the expense of his own reputation, and he would not thank me for putting him in such an unpleasant position. If it had not been for Flora, I would have fled that instant. Though I had prepared the raft for her accommodation, I hardly expected she would be willing to go with me.

I went from the store into the kitchen, where I found the poor girl at the stove. She had been crying, and I had never before seen her look so sad and hopeless.

"What is the matter, dear Flora?" I asked, seating myself at her side.

"Nothing, Buckland."

"You have been crying, Flora."

"I couldn't help it."

"What made you cry?"

"I don't want to make trouble," she replied, the tears coming to her eyes again; "but I wish it was October, that we might leave this house.

I'm sure Clarence does not know how much we suffer."

"Has Mrs. Fishley been abusing you again?"

She looked at me, and wiped away her tears before she answered.

"I did not mean to tell you of it, Buckland; but she did shake me again, and she hurt me very much," sobbed she.

"I'll tear her in pieces for it!" I cried, angrily; and my teeth ground together, and my fists involuntarily clinched.

"No, no, brother! Don't say anything about it," pleaded Flora. "Perhaps it was my fault; I contradicted her. She said you stole the money from the letter, and I persisted that you did not. O, Buckland, that was awful--to say you were a thief! I could not bear it."

"I am not a thief!"

"But have you some money?"

"I have."

"Where did you get it?" she asked, anxiously.

"I cannot tell them where I got it. I will tell you a little; but you must not breathe a word of it to any one."

"I will not, Buckland."

"I saved the life of a gentleman who had been drinking too much; and he gave me the money. He made me promise that I would not tell any one about it."

"Who was he?" asked she, excited by my story.

"I cannot tell even you who he was. He was very penitent, and wished me to save his character. Flora, it was Ham who robbed the mail. I saw him do it."

I told her what I had seen in the store the night the senator arrived, and that Ham accused me of the crime in order to save himself.

"You will be sent to prison, Buckland!" exclaimed she, in terror, as she threw her arm around my neck. "Ham hates you, and so do his father and mother."

"Dear Flora, if you will go with me, I will not stay another night with our tyrants. They abuse us both."

"Where will you go?"

"To New Orleans."

I will not pause to detail the arguments by which I convinced her that it was best for us to leave Torrentville at once. In the morning the constable would be sent for; and, while those who were left as my protectors were really my enemies, I could not hope to escape their malignity. This was the reasoning of a boy. Doubtless I was influenced by the fact that the raft was ready for use, and by a desire to embark upon a period of adventure.

"How can we go?" asked she; for I had said nothing to her about my craft yet.

"I have built a raft with a house upon it," I replied.

"A raft!"

"Yes; it is big enough to hold twenty men."

"But we can't go to New Orleans on a raft."

"Perhaps not; but when we get tired of it, we can take a steamboat and go the rest of the way. We shall have no tyrants to vex us," I added, with enthusiasm. "I have made a nice house for you, dear Flora."

"I will do anything you say, Buckland," said she, clasping her arms around my neck. "I cannot stay here."

"Then we must go this very night, before Captain Fishley and his wife return. The raft is in the swamp. Go and dress yourself in your warmest clothes, and put everything in a bundle which you wish to carry with you."

"Shall we stay on the raft night and day, Buckland?" she inquired, curiously; and her face already wore an expression of relief.

"Certainly, Flora. I have made a bunk in your room, and there is a stove in the house."

"Is the house furnished?"

"Not much," I replied. "We have some things."

"You know all the furniture in my room here belongs to us," she added.

I did know it, but I had not thought of it before. When we went from our own home to Captain Fishley's, Clarence had brought all the furniture from Flora's room. I decided to carry off as much as I could of it, including her bed, and the little rocking-chair in which she always sat.

Flora went to her chamber to prepare for her departure, and I hastened to make my arrangements.

The die was cast! I was going immediately. Before the morning sun rose, Flora and I, borne by the swift current of the river, would be far away from Torrentville. My plans were all formed. Captain Fishley and his wife would not return before nine o'clock, and I had nearly three hours to convey Flora and her effects to the raft. There were no windows in the rear of the store, and I was not in much danger of being seen by Ham. I went to the barn to procure the wheelbarrow, and a little wagon I had made for Flora, in which I intended to draw her to the swamp.

"Buck!" shouted Ham, as I was bringing out these vehicles, "I want you."