"But now, with most of the wealth in Raoul's hands--" Elysee raised a hand and shook his head. "This is not the end. I do not believe in divine intervention, but I do believe there is a law of nature that says a bad man will do badly in the end." Auguste was about to reply when he heard footsteps coming down the road toward the house, reminding him of how quiet it had been ever since he awakened. A good part of the town was sleeping off Raoul's Old Kaintuck, he suspected. He heard the door open and close below. A moment later Frank came into the room carrying a long rifle, with an ammunition bag and a powder horn slung over his shoulder. "Well, I bought you a little bateau that will get you across the Mississippi," he said, "for five dollars, from an old trapper who doesn't feel up to going out this winter. And for another twenty dollars I got him to throw in his second best rifle and a good supply of ammunition." He smiled grimly at Auguste. "I expect you'll find this useful over in Ioway." Auguste nodded. "I'll eat better. But--twenty-five dollars. Frank, that's too much for you to spend on me." He felt a warm gratitude toward the plump, sandy-haired man who was risking so much to help him. Frank's newspaper, his printing business and his carpentry all together could hardly bring in twenty-five dollars in a month, little enough to feed a family of ten. Elysee said, "I told you I had some money salted away, Auguste. Let the boat and the rifle be my gift to you." Auguste reached out and squeezed his grandfather's bony hand. Frank said, "I've moved the boat about half a mile below town and hidden it. We should be able to get down there unseen after dark." Nicole said, "If Auguste is leaving as Raoul wants him to, why wouldn't Raoul just let him go?" Frank said, "We can't take that chance. I believe Raoul won't be content unless he kills Auguste." Auguste shuddered inwardly at the thought that there was in the world a man who would not be satisfied until he was dead. He could not live with that kind of fear. He asked the White Bear, his spirit guide, to give him courage. He tried to push the fear out of his mind. He stood up to go back to the room where he had slept. He would clean and repack the things he was taking, he decided. He would get busy getting ready and not give himself time to think about being afraid. But nightfall seemed a long way off. At nine o'clock in the evening by the Seth Thomas clock in Frank's printing shop, which he reset every day at sunset, it was dark enough and the town was quiet enough for Auguste to leave. He held Nicole's ample body tight and kissed her, shook hands with the boys and kissed the girls. His grandfather had drifted off to sleep again, but the old man had kissed him on both cheeks, and they had said their good-byes in the afternoon.