futures, and,
last but not least, the perfect compatibility of sharp-practice and
law-breaking with sincere piety and philanthropy.

But alas, these are only surface thoughts,--deep in my heart is the
sharp knowledge that to-morrow I must lose Nucky, and that he cares very
little that he must go and leave me.

XXIX

LIBERTY AND NEW LIFE

_Friday._

At daybreak this morning, heavy detonations began to rend the air, and
we knew that the road-blasting had begun. It was almost impossible to
get the cottage cleaned,--the boys, especially Nucky, hung out of
windows and doors, eagerly watching the puffs of smoke down the road,
and listening for the loud reports. As we went over to breakfast, we
could see Blant and the others at work. I noticed that Nucky ate not a
bite, and was very pale,--I hoped that he was at last realizing it was
his last day with me, and was feeling some of the pain I felt in the
separation. We were all pouring out of the dining-room after the meal,
when several sharp, near-by gun-shots, following a particularly loud
blast of powder, sent all flying to the front. Up the steep mountain
side facing the school a man was leaping, while down in the road below
ran another, stopping only to aim and fire.

"It's Blant!" called out a score of voices; "he's got away! Go it,
Blant,--run, oh, run!"

It was indeed Blant, making desperate speed up the steep slope. The
mountain is cleared halfway, not a rock or a tree affording shelter;
above that is the timber-line. All the school was by this time at the
fence, breathlessly watching the breathless ascent. The keeper,
selecting a vantage-ground just outside the school gate, took his stand
and grimly proceeded to do his "whole duty," firing swiftly, calmly,
surely, at the flying figure. In running accompaniment to the gun-shots,
Nucky's voice rang out sharp and clear. "Keep to the right a
little-grain!" "Drap down in the swag there, so's he can't hit you so
easy!" "Make for them spruce-pines! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!" Bullets
raised tiny clouds of dust about Blant's feet, and on the slope just
ahead of him; the seconds seemed ages; our hearts stood still. Once he
stopped short, clutching his left arm; then ran on again, more swiftly
than ever, his arm dangling strangely. Nucky's voice, edged with agony,
faltered no more than did the bullets. "Can't you move no quicker'n
that? Seems like I could crawl faster! Once you reach the timber, he'll
never hit y