Both evidently felt much improved in their dry clothes, and though ravenously hungry, the first pangs of emptiness had modified themselves.
"We will have to issue cards," continued our hero merrily. "At home, September 26th, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Cleveland, nee Bertha——," and there he suddenly stopped.
"My name is Ford," said Bertha quietly, though not unpleased at her companion's facetiousness. "Bertha Ford, and I infer from what I have just heard that I may address you as Mr. Benjamin Cleveland?"
"No, indeed, you may not," exclaimed Ben, warmly. "You must call me 'Ben.' I have earned that privilege, have I not?"
"Indeed, indeed I'll call you any thing you wish—dear Ben if you want me to; for did you not save my life!" and with two soft, white little hands in his, she looked so winsomely grateful into his face that Ben blushed in ecstasy,—stammered—and said—he knew not what.
At all events it was arranged that they should call each other by their Christian names, and this dangerous precedent established, there is no telling how far circumstances and surroundings might have carried their intimacy, was it not that on the one side there was the bright honor of a first and picturesque love, that would no more have allowed an evil thought to sully it, than it would have permitted an injury to be done to the object of its adoration; and on the maiden's part were innocence and purity—needing no bulwarks and for which twin virtues the conventionalities of society were never builded.
Having examined the hut Ben told her of his plan to escape, and she flushed with hope and was anxious to commence the work immediately. So at it the two went. He cut down the young trees and she carried them in armfuls down to the water's edge, where it was proposed to build the raft. When night overtook their labors, quite a pile of the cottonwoods had been accumulated on the strand to reward their industry. Ben's hands were blistered and Bertha's arms were tired and sore, but both felt the elasticity of hope. During the early part of the afternoon's labors much laughter was occasioned at the young lady's appearance. To see a very pretty young woman with white jewelled hands and diamond-draped ears packing brushwood through the sand, the long heavy trail of a rich dress sweeping behind her, was ludicrous. After sweeping a few furrows, Bertha came after her load without the trail, and things progressed better. They said but little, and what was said was only to encourage each other at their labors.
As it grew chilly with the evening breeze sweeping down the river they retired to the protection of the hut, and there (though it was no doubt highly indecorous) seated on the carpet of boughs the head of Bertha found Ben's shoulder and his own stout arms wound about her form. Ben afterward stated that had it not been for the fact of his being everlastingly hungry, he would consider it the happiest moment of all his life.
"Ben!" suddenly said the young lady.
"What is it, Bertha?" he asked.