Nat’s brain was so upset with all that had happened that he could not think very readily, but he did not ponder upon anything so much as he did upon what the old gentleman had said to Jonas: “I shall die before morning.” That was bringing the matter pretty close to him, and he resolved that he would not go to sleep at all; but his work with the potatoes had wearied him, and almost before he knew it he was in the land of dreams. He awoke with a start and it was broad day-light. To roll off his shake-down, seize his hat and make his way to the barn was the work of a very few minutes. Everything seemed quiet and still there. With cautious haste he opened the door and saw Mr. Nickerson lying on his shake-down just as he left him the night before. He wanted to say something to him but he did not dare. He drew a step closer and one look was enough. With frantic speed he ran to the house, pushed open the door and seized Jonas by the shoulder.
“Wake up, here,” he said, in a trembling voice. “The old man has bothered you for the last time. He is dead.”
Jonas was a sound sleeper and it was a hard task to awaken him; but there was something so thrilling in Nat’s words that he was on his feet in an instant. He looked at the boy as though he did not know what he meant.
“Mr. Nickerson lies dead down in your barn,” said Nat, earnestly. “He told you last night that he would die before morning, and sure enough he has.”
“Why-I-You don’t mean it!” exclaimed Jonas, his eyes wide with excitement.
“Don’t stop to talk, Jonas,” said Mrs. Keeler nervously. “Did you see him, Nat?”
“I have just come from there.”
“Then go along and see if you can do something,” urged his wife. “Maybe he ain’t dead.”
Jonas had by this time hurriedly put his clothes on, and he led the way to the barn with top speed, stopping only to call Caleb on the way. Everything was as Nat had left it the night before. There was “Baxter’s Saints’ Rest” with the leaves all torn out of it, lying by the dead man’s head, and it seemed as though the old man had not moved a finger since Nat bade him good night.
“Well, sir, he has gone up,” said Jonas; and Nat looked to see some little twinge of remorse in his tones. But there was not a particle that he could see, not even an expression of regret.