CHAPTER THREE
_The Return of Two Warriors_
When the great contest began, Nan was close to thirteen, and Gabriel wasfourteen. Cephas was younger; he had lived hardly as many months as hehad freckles on his face, otherwise he would have been an aged citizen.They wandered about together, always accompanied by Tasma Tid, all ofthem being children in every sense of the word. Occasionally they werejoined by some of the other boys and girls; but they were always happierwhen they were left to themselves.
In the late afternoons they could always be found in the Bermuda fields,but at other times, especially on a warm day, their favourite playgroundwas under the wide-spreading elms in front of the post-office. Amusingthemselves there in the fine weather, they could see the people come andgo, many of them looking for letters that never came. When the conflictat the front became warm and serious, and when the very newspapers, asMrs. Absalom said, smelt of blood, there was always a large crowd ofmen, old and young, gathered at the post-office when the mail-coach camefrom Malvern. As few of the people subscribed for a daily newspaper,Judge Odom (he was Judge of the Inferior Court, now called the Court ofOrdinary) took upon himself to mount a chair or a dry-goods box, andread aloud the despatches printed in the Malvern _Recorder_. Thisenterprising journal had a number of volunteer correspondents at thefront who made it a point to send with their letters the lists of thekilled and wounded in the various Georgia regiments; and these listsgrew ominously long as the days went by.
And then, in the course of time, came the collapse of the Confederacy,an event that blew away with a breath, as it were, the hopes and dreamsof those who had undertaken to build a new government in the South; andthis march of time brought about a gradual change in the relationsbetween Nan and Gabriel. It was almost as imperceptible in its growth asthe movement of the shadow on the sun-dial. Somehow, and to her greatdisgust, Nan awoke one morning and was told that she was a young woman,or dreamt that she was told. Anyhow, she realised, all of a sudden, thatshe was now too tall for short dresses, and too old to be playing withthe boys as if she were one of them; and the consciousness of thischange gave her many a bad quarter of an hour, and sometimes made her atrifle irritable; for, sweet as she was, she had a temper.
She asked herself a thousand times why she should now begin to feel shyof Gabriel, and why she should be so self-conscious, she who had neverthought of herself with any degree of seriousness until now. It was alla puzzle to her. As it was with Nan, so it was with Gabriel. As Nan grewshy and shyer, so the newly-awakened Gabriel grew more and more andmore timid, and the two soon found themselves very far apart withoutknowing why. For a long time Cephas was the only connecting link betweenthem. He was a sly little rascal, this same Cephas, and he found in thesituation food for both curiosity and amusement. He had not the leastnotion why the two friends and comrades were inclined to avoid eachother. He only knew that he was not having as pleasant a time as fell tohis portion when they were all going about together with no seriousnotions of life or conduct.
Cephas got no satisfaction from either Nan or Gabriel when he asked themwhat the trouble was. Nan tried to explain matters, but her explanationwas a very lame one. "I am getting old enough to be serious, Cephas; andI must begin to make myself useful. That's what Miss Polly Gaither says,and she's old enough to know. Oh, I hate it all!" said Nan.
"Is Miss Polly Gaither useful?" inquired Cephas.
"I'm sure I don't know," replied Nan; "but that's what she told me, andthen she held up her ear-trumpet for me to talk in it; but I justcouldn't, she looked so very much in earnest. It was all I could do tokeep from laughing. Did you ever notice, Cephas, how funny people arewhen they are really in earnest?"
Alas! Cephas had often pinched himself in Sunday-school to keep fromlaughing at old Mrs. Crafton, his teacher. She was so dreadfully inearnest that she kept her face in a pucker the whole time. Outside ofthe Sunday-school she was a very pleasant old lady.
Gabriel had no explanation to make whatever. He simply told Cephas thatNan was becoming vain. This Cephas denied with great emphasis, butGabriel only shook his head and looked wise, as much as to say that heknew what he knew, and would continue to know it for some time to come.The truth is, however, that Gabriel was as ignorant of the femininenature as it is possible for a young fellow to be; whereas, Nan, bymeans of the instinct or intuition which heaven has conferred on her sexfor their protection, knew Gabriel a great deal better than she knewherself.
When the war came to a close, Gabriel was nearly eighteen, and Nan wasseventeen, though she appeared to be a year or two younger. She wasstill childish in her ways and tastes, and carried with her anatmosphere of simplicity and sweetness in which very few girls of herage are fortunate enough to move. Simplicity was a part of her nature,though some of her young lady friends used to whisper to one anotherthat it was all assumed. She was even referred to as Miss Prissy, a termthat was probably intended to be an abbreviation of Priscilla.
Regularly, she used to hunt Cephas up and carry him home with her forthe afternoon; and on the other hand, Gabriel manifested a greatfondness for the little fellow, who enjoyed his enviable popularity witha clear conscience. It was years and years afterwards before the secretof his popularity dawned on him. If he had suspected it at the time, hispride, such as he had, would have had a terrible fall.
One day, it was the year of Appomattox, and the month was June, Cephasheard his name called, and answered very promptly, for the voice was thevoice of Gabriel, and it was burdened with an invitation to visit thewoods and fields that surrounded the town. The weather itself wasburdened with the same invitation. The birds sang it, and it rustled inthe leaves of the trees. And Cephas leaped from the house, glad of anyexcuse to escape from the domestic task at which he had been set. Theywandered forth, and became a part and parcel of the wild things. Thehermit thrush, with his silver bell, was their brother, and thecat-bird, distressed for the safety of her young, was their sister. Yea,and the gray squirrel was their playmate, a shy one, it is true, butnone the less a genuine one for all that. They roamed about thegreen-wood, and over the hills and fields, and finally found themselvesin the public highway that leads to Malvern.
Cephas found a cornstalk, and with hardly an effort of his mind, changedit into a fine saddle-horse. The contagion seized Gabriel, and though hewas close upon his eighteenth birthday, he secured a cornstalk, which atonce became a saddle-horse at his bidding. The magical powers of youthare wonderful, and for a little while the cornstalk horses were as realas any horses could be. The steed that Cephas bestrode was comparativelygentle, but Gabriel's horse developed a desire to take fright ateverything he saw. A creature more skittish and nervous was never seen,and his example was soon followed by the steed that Cephas rode. Thetwo boys were so busily engaged in trying to control their perversehorses, that they failed to see a big covered waggon that came creepingup the hill behind them. So, while they were cutting up their queercapers, the big waggon, drawn by two large mules, was plumb upon them.As for Cephas, he didn't care, being at an age when such capers arepermissible, but Gabriel blushed when he discovered that his childishpranks had witnesses; and he turned a shade redder when he saw that theoccupants of the waggon were, of all the persons in the world, Mr. BillySanders and Francis Bethune.
Both of the boys would have passed on but for the compelling voice ofMr. Sanders. "Why, it's little Gabe, and he's little Gabe no longer. AndCephas ain't growed a mite. Hello, Gabe! Hello, Cephas! Howdy, howdy?"
Francis Bethune's salutation was somewhat constrained, or if that be toolarge a word, was lacking in cordiality. "What is the matter withGabriel?" he asked.
"It's a thousand pities, Frank," remarked Mr. Sanders, "that SarahClopton wouldn't let you be a boy along with the other boys; but shecoddled you up jest like you was a gal. Be jigged ef I don't believeyou've got on pantalettes right now."
Bethune blushed hotly, while Gabriel and Cephas fairly yelled withlaughter--and there was a little resentment in Gabriel's mirth. "
But Idon't see what could possess Tolliver," Bethune insisted.
"Shucks, Frank! you wouldn't know ef he was to write it down for you,an' Nan Dorrin'ton would know wi'out any tellin'. You ain't a bitbrighter about sech matters than you was the day Nan give you athumpin'."
At this Gabriel laughed again, for he had been an eye-witness to theepisode to which Mr. Sanders referred. A boy has his prejudices, asolder persons have theirs. Bethune had always had the appearance ofbeing too fond of himself; when other boys of his age were playing andpranking, he would be primping, and in the afternoon, before he went offto the war, he would strut around town in the uniform of a cadet, andseemed to think himself better than any one else. These things countwith boys as much as they do with older persons.
"Climb in the waggin, Gabe an' Cephas, an' tell us about ever'thing an'ever'body. The Yanks didn't take the town off, did they?"
The boys accepted the invitation without further pressing, for they wereboth fond of Mr. Sanders, and proceeded to give their old friend all theinformation he desired. Francis Bethune asked no questions, and Gabrielwas very glad of it. At bottom, Bethune was a very clever fellow, butthe boys are apt to make up their judgments from what is merelysuperficial. Francis had a very handsome face, and he could have madehimself attractive to a youngster on the lookout for friends, but he hadchosen a different line of conduct, and as a result, Gabriel had severalscores against the young man. And so had Cephas; for, on one occasion,the latter had gone to the Clopton Place for some wine for his mother,who was something of an invalid, and, coming suddenly on Sarah Clopton,found her in tears. Cephas never had a greater shock than the sight gavehim, for he had never connected this self-contained, gray-haired womanwith any of the tenderer emotions. In the child's mind, she was simply asort of superintendent of affairs on the Clopton Place, who, in theearly mornings, stood on the back porch of the big house, and, in avoice loud enough to be heard a considerable distance, gave orders tothe domestics, and allotted to the field hands their tasks for the day.
Sarah Clopton must have seen how shocked the child was, for she driedher eyes and tried to laugh, saying, "You never expected to see mecrying, did you, little boy?" Cephas had no answer for this, but whenshe asked if he could guess why she was crying, the child rememberedwhat he had heard Nan and Gabriel say, and he gave an answer that wasboth prompt and blunt. "I reckon Frank Bethune has been making a fool ofhimself again," said he.
"But how did you know, child?" she asked, placing her soft white fingersunder his chin, and lifting his face toward the light. "You are a wiselad for your years," she said, when he made no reply, "and I am sure youare sensible enough to do me a favour. Please say nothing about what youhave seen. An old woman's tears amount to very little. And don't be toohard on Frank. He has simply been playing some college prank, and theyare sending him home."
The most interesting piece of news that Gabriel had in his budgetrelated to the hanging of Mr. Absalom Goodlett by some of Sherman's men,when that commander came marching through Georgia. It seems that a negrohad told the men that Mr. Goodlett knew where the Clopton silver hadbeen concealed, and they took him in hand and tried to frighten him intogiving them information which he did not possess. Threats failing, theysecured a rope and strung him up to a tree. They strung him up threetimes, and the third time, they went off and left him hanging; and butfor the promptness of the negro who was the cause of the trouble, andwho had been an interested spectator of the proceedings, Mr. Goodlettwould never have opened his eyes on the affairs of this world again. Thenegro cut him down in the nick of time, and as soon as he recovered, hesent the darkey with instructions to go after the men, and tell themwhere they could find the plate, indicating an isolated spot. WhereuponMr. Goodlett took his gun, and went to the point indicated. The negrocarried out his instructions to the letter. He found the men, who hadnot gone far, pointed out the spot from a safe distance, and then waitedto see what would happen. If he saw anything unusual, he never told ofit; but the men were never seen again. Some of their companions returnedto search for them, but the search was a futile one. The negro wentabout with a frightened face for several days, and then he settled downto work for Mr. Goodlett, in whom he seemed to have a strange interest.He showed this in every way.
"You keep yo' eye on 'im," he used to say to his coloured acquaintances,in speaking of Mr. Goodlett; "keep yo' eye on 'im, an' when you see hisunder-jaw stickin' out, des turn you' back, an' put yo' fingers in yo'ears."
"You never know," said Mr. Sanders, in commenting on the story, "what aman will do ontell he gits rank pizen mad, or starvin' hongry, or inlove."
"What would you do, Mr. Sanders, if you were in love?" Gabriel askedinnocently enough.
"Maybe I'd do as Frank does," replied Mr. Sanders, smiling blandly;"shed scaldin' tears one minnit, an' bite my finger-nails the next;maybe I would, but I don't believe it."
"Now, I'll swear you ought not to tell these boys such stuff as that!"exclaimed Francis Bethune angrily. "I don't know about Cephas, butTolliver doesn't like me any way."
"How do you know?" inquired Gabriel.
"Because you used to make faces at me," replied Bethune, half laughing.
"Why, so did Nan," Gabriel rejoined. "Mine must have been terrible onesfor you to remember them so well."
The reference to Nan struck Bethune, and he began to gnaw at the end ofhis thumb, whereupon Mr. Sanders smiled broadly. The young man reflecteda moment and then remarked, his face a trifle redder than usual; "Isn'tthe young lady old enough for you to call her Miss Dorrington?"
"She is," replied Gabriel; "but if she permits me to call her Nan, whyshould any one else object?"
There was no answer to this, but presently Bethune turned to Gabriel andsaid: "Why do you dislike me, Tolliver?"
For a little time the lad was silent; he was trying to formulate hisprejudices into something substantial and sufficient, but the effort wasa futile one. While he was silent, Bethune regarded him with a curiousstare. "Honestly," said Gabriel, "I can give no reason; and I'm not sureI dislike you. But you always held your head so high that I kept awayfrom you. I had an idea that you felt yourself above me because mygrandmother is not as rich as the Cloptons."
The statement seemed to amaze Bethune. "You couldn't have been more thanten or twelve when I left here for the war," he remarked.
"Yes, I was more than thirteen," Gabriel replied.
"Well, I never thought that a boy so young could have such thoughts,"Bethune declared.
"Pooh!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders; "a fourteen-year-old boy can have somemighty deep thoughts, specially ef he' been brung up in a house full ofbooks, as Gabriel was. I hope, Gabriel," he went on, "that you'll stickto your cornstalk hoss as long as you want to. You'll live longer forit, an' your friends will love you jest the same. Frank here has neverbeen a boy. Out of bib an' hippin, he jumped into long britches an' astandin' collar, an' the only fun he ever had in his life he got kickedout of college for, an' served him right, too. I'll bet you a thrip to apint of pot-licker that Nan'll ride a stick hoss tomorrer ef she takes anotion--an' she's seventeen. Don't you forgit, Gabriel, that you'llnever be a boy but once, an' you better make the most on it whilst youcan."
The waggon came just then to the brow of the hill that overlooked ShadyDale, and here Mr. Sanders brought his team to a standstill. It had beenmany long months since his eyes or Bethune's had gazed on the familiarscene. "I'll tell you what's the fact, boys," he said, drawing in a longbreath--"the purtiest place this side of Paradise lies right yanderbefore our eyes. Ef I had some un to give out the lines, I'd cut looseand sing a hime. Yes, sirs! you'd see me break out an' howl jest like myold coon dog, Louder, used to do when he struck a hot track. The Lordhas picked us out of the crowd, Frank, an' holp us along at every turnan' crossin'. But before the week's out, we'll forgit to be thankful.J'inin' the church wouldn't do us a grain of good. By next Sunday week,Frank, you'll be struttin' around as proud as a turkey gobbler, an'you'll git wuss an' wuss less'n Nan takes a notio
n for to frail you outag'in."
Bethune relished the remark so little that he chirped to the mules, butMr. Sanders seized the reins in his own hands. "We've fit an' we'vefout, an' we've got knocked out," he went on, "an' now, here we areready for to take a fresh start. The Lord send that it's the rightstart." He would have driven on, but at that moment, a shabby lookingvehicle drew up alongside the waggon. Gabriel and Cephas knew at oncethat the outfit belonged to Mr. Goodlett. His mismatched team consistedof a very large horse and a very small mule, both of them veterans ofthe war. They had been left by the Federals in a broken-down condition,and Mr. Goodlett found them grazing about, trying to pick up a living.He appropriated them, fed them well, and was now utilising them not onlyfor farm purposes, but for conveying stray travellers to and fromMalvern, earning in this way many a dollar that would have goneelsewhere.
Mr. Goodlett drew rein when he saw Mr. Sanders and Francis Bethune, andgave them as cordial a greeting as he could, for he was a veryundemonstrative and reticent man. At that time both Gabriel and Cephasthought he was both sour and surly, but, in the course of events, theiropinions in regard to that and a great many other matters underwent aconsiderable change.
Gabriel Tolliver: A Story of Reconstruction Page 4