THE DEPARTURE.
I harnessed the horse for Captain Fishley, and put the mail-bag in the
wagon, as I was told to do. I could not help thinking that my tyrants
were playing some deeper game than appeared upon the surface. They were
certainly looking up evidence to enable them to convict me of robbing
the mail. If the captain should happen to blunder into some of the
stores in Riverport where I had made some extensive purchases, as I
regarded them, he might wonder what I had done with a second-hand
cooking-stove, about twenty pounds of nails, and other articles upon
which boys do not usually set a high value; but the amount of money
employed in the transaction would be of greater interest to him.
Captain Fishley drove off, and I went into the store. Ham was alone
there, and the glance which he bestowed upon me was unusually ugly. I
was uneasy and nervous. I knew I should never have any peace till I told
where I had obtained the money in my possession; but Squire Fishley had
specially interdicted my saying anything to his brother. It seemed to me
just as though my chief tyrant had gone down to Riverport on purpose to
find something which would condemn me. I had bought at least ten
dollars' worth of goods at one store, and if he could prove that I had
expended this sum of money, it would be enough to satisfy him that I had
robbed the mail.
I felt that the storm was coming down upon me like a tempest. My tyrants
were anxious to condemn me. Ham, in whom there was no sentiment of
justice or magnanimity, would do his utmost to convict me, in order to
save himself. It was plain enough to me, that without the testimony of
Squire Fishley, I could not hope to escape. Ham was a villain; he knew
that I had not stolen the money. I could not blame Captain Fishley and
his wife for deeming me guilty; but I could not save myself at the
expense of Squire Fishley. I had promised him faithfully, and he had
handsomely rewarded me for my silence.
"You are bound to have a row with me, Buck Bradford," said Ham, as I sat
in the store thinking of the perils of the situation.
"I think the boot's on the other leg," I replied.
"What do you mean by saying I robbed the mail then?"
"Well, what do you mean by saying I did it?" I retorted.
"You can't tell where you got that money I saw you have."
"No matter whether I can or not. You know, if nobody else does, that it
didn't come out of that letter."
"What do you mean by that?"
"What's the use of talking, Ham Fishley?" I replied, impatiently.
"Didn't you hear the dog howling that night when you broke open Miss
Larrabee's letter, and put the money in your pocket? I did, and I went
down stairs in my stocking feet to let him in. When I came to the store
door, I saw what you were doing. I saw you set the letter afire, and
throw it into the stove. Then you put the envelope in after it. But that
didn't burn up, and I saved a piece of it in the morning when I made the
fire."
"That's a pretty story!" exclaimed Ham; but I saw that he was pale, and
that his lips quivered. "Do you expect any one to believe it?"
"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."
I deemed it prudent not to have a fuss with him then, and I hastened to
the store. In front of it I found the stable-keeper's best team. My
elegant tyrant was doubtless going to take Miss Elsie Crofton out to
ride, during the absence of his father.
"I want you to stay in the store till it's time to shut up," said Ham.
"I haven't left any money where you can steal it."
"I shall not stay in the store," I replied, indignant at his gratuitous
fling at me.
"Won't you?"
"No, I won't! I'm not going to put myself in position to be accused of
anything else."
"I think you'd better do as I tell you."
"I don't think so. The old man will give you fits for leaving the store;
and you know he wouldn't trust me there."
"The money is safe."
"That's all, Ham Fishley;" and I left the store.
I waited a little while to see what he would do. He locked the store,
and drove off with the fine team. He knew his father would not be back
till after it was time to close the shop. The coast was clear, and I
lost not a moment in carrying out my plans. I took an armful of Flora's
things, and went down to the verge of the swamp with them. I called Sim,
and told him what I intended to do as we walked back to the house. Our
operations were all carried on in the rear of the house, where none of
the neighbors could see us; and I loaded down the wheelbarrow to its
utmost capacity. But even then we could not carry everything, and I left
several bundles behind the barn, where we could readily obtain them for
a second load. I intended to take Bully with me, but I could not find
him. He was in the habit of making journeys about the village, and he
missed his destiny by being absent at this time.
It was after sundown when our little procession started for the swamp. I
felt as though I was taking the great step of my lifetime, and winning
the final triumph over my tyrants.