So, there she sat, in her own
state and ceremony, while her husband sat on the same log of wood,
ordering us one and all to let the raft go to the bottom, and to bring
him stationery.
What with this noise on the part of Mr. Commissioner Pordage, and what
with the cries of Sergeant Drooce on the raft astern (which were
sometimes more than Tom Packer could silence), we often made our slow way
down the river, anything but quietly. Yet, that it was of great
importance that no ears should be able to hear us from the woods on the
banks, could not be doubted. We were looked for, to a certainty, and we
might be retaken at any moment. It was an anxious time; it was, indeed,
indeed, an anxious time.
On the seventh night of our voyage on the rafts, we made fast, as usual,
on the opposite side of the river to that from which we had started, in
as dark a place as we could pick out. Our little encampment was soon
made, and supper was eaten, and the children fell asleep. The watch was
set, and everything made orderly for the night. Such a starlight night,
with such blue in the sky, and such black in the places of heavy shade on
the banks of the great stream!
Those two ladies, Miss Maryon and Mrs.
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