_Wednesday Morning._
The best surgeon in the state arrived at noon yesterday, performed the
trephining at once, and having done all that skill and science could,
started back on his long horseback ride. Nucky continued in the deep
sleep from which he might pass into either life or death. All afternoon,
and into the night, we watched in vain for signs of returning
consciousness. About ten, the door opened noiselessly, and Blant and
Rich stepped in out of the night. Two hours later, Nucky's head began to
move from side to side, and he moaned occasionally. A little past one,
he suddenly opened his eyes and looked at Blant.
"They never got you, did they?" he asked, feebly.
"Who, son?"
"Todd and Dalt; they was fixing to layway you when I fired on them."
"Is that what made you disobey orders?" inquired Blant.
"Yes. The whole bunch of Cheevers come up to the fence, and started to
throw down rails; and I was just about to drap down and fetch you the
word, when I heared Todd tell the rest to make all the noise they could,
so's to tole you out, and him and Dalt would hide in the trees and shoot
you as you passed. And then they clim the fence and made for the very
spruce-pines where I was at. I knowed I couldn't get away then to warn
you, so I done my best to shoot 'em."
Blant's face darkened, but his voice was gentleness itself as he said,
"You done wise, son; and you certainly hit your mark, too,--they was
carrying off Dalt when I got down."
Nucky sighed, deeply, happily, closing his eyes.
After a while he opened them again to say, "I allow they shot me up a
little too, by these here rags on my head."
[Illustration: "'I allow they shot me up a little too by these here rags
on my head.'"]
"Oh, a trifle, yes,--but none to hurt,--you wa'n't born to die by no
Cheever lead."
"Gee, no," breathed Nucky, in quiet scorn.
"We brung you over here to the women, where you could get well sooner,"
continued Blant, in his gentle, reassuring voice; "and now since you are
doing so fine, I reckon I'll leave you a spell and get along home,--the
babe is punier than usual."
"Yes, I don't want you to stay here and get arrested," said Nucky; "but
I don't want you to go back there neither. You keep a constant watch on
Todd,--I wish it was him I had shot."
Rich and I followed Blant out. Not until we stood out in the snow did we
wring one another's hands in speechless relief.
"Of course he will live now," I said.
To-day Nucky is entirely rational, though quite weak. Only the nurse
sees him. Killis, Taulbee, Keats, Hosea and Joab came in for news of him
to-day, returning immediately on their long walks.
_Friday._
I was permitted to visit Nucky to-day. He is still forbidden to talk,
but he smiled his old bright smile, and I read Pilgrim's Progress to him
until he fell asleep.
_Sunday Morning._
All the boys came back to school yesterday from their vacation, several
with gifts for me,--a dozen eggs from the little Salyers, a fine
ground-hog-hide from Joab ("it'll make you shoe-strings enough to last a
lifetime," he said), a handsome hen from Taulbee, four huge
sweet-potatoes from Hosea, and an elegant green glass breastpin from
Geordie. Of course the one topic of conversation last night was
"Trojan" and his performance, in which they take endless pride. "I
allow Basil Beaumont will sure make up a song-ballad about him now,"
said Absalom.
They also brought the news that Dalt Cheever is probably "aiming to
live",--thank heaven if it is true, for I cannot bear that Nucky's hands
should be stained with human blood. Doubtless, however, it will be a
keen disappointment to him.
_Monday._
As I was about to leave the cottage for the hospital last night after
supper, the boys were all bewailing the fact that they had not been able
to stay at home over Old Christmas. I asked them what they meant by "Old
Christmas."
"You brought-on women," said Taulbee, "thinks New Christmas is real
Christmas; but it haint. Real Christmas comes to-morrow, on the sixth of
January; and to-night is right Christmas Eve."
"What makes you think so?"
"All the old folks says so, for one thing, and they knows better than
young ones; and the plants and the beasts knows better still. Tonight's
the night when the elder blossoms out at midnight, and the cattle kneels
down and prays,--anybody can hear 'em a-lowing and mowing if they stay
awake to listen."
I have a hazy recollection of the English calendar having been changed
and set forward eleven days in the middle of the eighteenth century, and
of the mass of the people in England and the colonies refusing to accept
the new date for Christmas. This survival in the mountain country is
indeed remarkable.
I sat keeping watch beside Nucky when the clock struck midnight, and got
up and went to the window to look and listen. If, in the wintry
moonlight, any gaunt, bare stalks put forth miraculous blossoms above
the snow, or if reverent cattle knelt and lowed loving welcome to their
Lord, my eyes and ears were holden that I did not see and hear; but I
know that it was Real Christmas in my heart as I turned back and saw my
child breathing quietly on his bed, a faint color in his pale cheeks
again.
_Wednesday._
Another visit from Blant to Nucky last night. In reply to eager
questions, Blant gave Nucky a very encouraging account of the state of
affairs on Trigger. "Never seed things quieter," he said; "it looks like
your shot had settled 'em a while. The talk now is that Dalt will likely
get well, which I allow you will grieve to hear." A shade of heavy
disappointment immediately fell upon Nucky's countenance. "But,"
continued Blant, "it is good news to me,--I don't like the notion of
your having to start in killing at your age."
After we were out on the porch, Blant repeated to me, "Yes, I am proud
to know the little chap haint got blood on his hands yet awhile. You
may think it quare, but it really goes again' the grain with me to see a
man kilt, even when he needs killing."
"Is it true," I questioned him as he stepped out into the snow, "that
things are so quiet on Trigger?"
He smiled slightly. "Oh yes," he said; "quiet enough,--in fact, they are
quiet as death,--not a speck of trouble in plain sight nowhere. But I
got a bullet through my hat Friday night as I crossed the passage from
the kitchen to t'other house, and heared another whiz nigh while I
watered the nags yesterday evening. It all happens along towards dark."
"This is horrible," I said.
"Yes, it's low-down. Folks ought to fight in the open if they got any
fighting to do."
"Is Richard staying with you?"
"Day and night. I allow he's setting with the babe this minute. All I'm
afeared of is that they will shoot him in place of me. But we keep all
the windows blanketed and chinks stopped of a night."