he more because they
were so devoted to each other.

Day after day went by; and our course continued past Vicksburg, Natchez,
Grand Gulf, Baton Rouge, till, on the thirteenth day from Cairo, and on
the twenty-third from Torrentville, we came in sight of the spires of
New Orleans.

The sun was just setting as we came abreast of the dense piles of
houses. When we reached a place favorable for landing, I ran the raft up
to the levee, and made it fast to a post.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE END OF THE VOYAGE.

For the week preceding the arrival of the raft, Emily Goodridge had been
improving in health, though she was still quite feeble. She sat up part
of the day, and spent an hour or two in the forenoon in the open air. As
we approached the city, the excitement of being so near home buoyed her
up, and seemed to give her an unnatural strength.

For my own part, I was in a whirl of excitement. The end of the voyage
was a tremendous event in itself; but, as I thought of the astonishment
of my brother when he should see Flora and me, and of the meeting
between Mr. Goodridge and his daughter, I could hardly contain myself.
The sights along the river, too, were sufficiently wonderful to keep my
eyes wide open, and my heart leaping. For the first time in my life I
saw a ship--hundreds of them, whose forest of masts and spars was as
strange to me as though I had been transported to the centre of the
Celestial Empire.

It seemed to me an age since I had left Torrentville; since, with
bounding bosom, I had guided the raft down the creek to the Wisconsin.
The events which had preceded our departure appeared to have occurred
years ago, and to be dwarfed into littleness by the lapse of time.
Captain Fishley, his wife, and Ham seemed almost like myths, so far
removed were they from me by distance and time. I had almost forgotten
that I had been charged with a base crime, and that I had fled to escape
unpleasant consequences.

There was the great city of New Orleans spread out before me; and there,
somewhere in the midst of its vast mass of heaving life, was my brother,
and Flora's brother. I knew not where to look for him. But my first duty
was to the poor girl, sick in body and sick at heart, who had voyaged
down the river with us; who had made us feel enough of Christ's spirit
to know that "it is more blessed to give than to receive."

Emily was in the chamber with Flora when Sim and I fastened the raft to
the post. My fell