"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!"