"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." XXII THE EECH, AND TRAGEDY _Thursday._ Ever since Philip's return he has been scratching himself in the most annoying manner. Before I started for the hospital to-night, he came into my room, clawing viciously at his ankles. "Gimme something for the eech," he said.