"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.