CHAPTER NINE
_Nan and Gabriel_
Gabriel renewed his enthusiasm for Bethune as soon as he had anopportunity to see Nan. These opportunities became rarer and rarer asthe days went by. Sometimes she was friendly and familiar, as on the daywhen she went home with him to hear the story of poor Margaret Gaither;but oftener she was cool and dignified, and appeared to be inclined topatronise her old friend and comrade. This was certainly her attitudewhen Gabriel began to sing the praises of Francis Bethune when, on oneoccasion, he met her on the street.
"I'm sure it is very good of you, Gabriel, to speak so kindly of Mr.Bethune," she said. "No doubt he deserves it all. He also says some verynice things about you, so I've heard. Nonny says there's some sort of anagreement between you--'you tickle me and I'll tickle you.' Oh, there'snothing for you to blush about, Gabriel," she went on very seriously."Nonny may laugh at it, but I think it speaks well for both you and Mr.Bethune."
Gabriel made no reply, and as he stood there looking at Nan, andrealising for the first time what he had only dimly suspected before,that they could no longer be comrades and chums, he presented a veryuncomfortable spectacle. He was the picture of awkwardness. His handsand his feet were all in his way, and for the first time in his life hefelt cheap. Nan had suddenly loomed up as a woman grown. It is true thatshe resolutely refused to follow the prevailing fashion and wearhoop-skirts, but this fact and her long dress simply gave emphasis tothe fact that she was grown.
"Well, Nan, I'm very sorry," said Gabriel, by way of saying something.He spoke the truth without knowing why.
"Sorry! Why should you be sorry?" cried Nan. "I think you haveeverything to make you glad. You have your Mr. Bethune, and no longerthan yesterday I heard Eugenia Claiborne say that you are the handsomestman she ever saw--yes, she called you a man. She declared that she neverknew before that curly hair could be so becoming to a man. And Margaretsays that you and Eugenia would just suit each other, she a blonde andyou a brunette."
Gabriel blushed again in spite of himself, and laughed, too--laughed atthe incongruity of the situation. This Nan, with her long gingham frock,and her serious ways, was no more like the Nan he had known than if shehad come from another world. It was laughable, of course, and pathetic,too, for Gabriel could laugh and feel sorry at the same moment.
"You haven't told me why you are sorry," said Nan, when the lad'ssilence had become embarrassing to her.
"Well, I am just sorry," Gabriel replied.
"You are angry," she declared.
"No," he insisted, "I am just sorry. I don't know why, unless it'sbecause you are not the same. You have been changing all the time, Ireckon, but I never noticed it so much until to-day." His tone was oneof complaint.
As Nan stood there regarding Gabriel with an expression of perplexity inher countenance, and tapping the ground impatiently with one foot, thetwo young people got their first whiff of the troubles that had beenslowly gathering over that region. Around the corner near which theystood, two men had paused to finish an earnest conversation. Evidentlythey had been walking along, but their talk had become so interesting,apparently, that they paused involuntarily. They were hid from Nan andGabriel by the high brick wall that enclosed Madame Awtry's back yard.
"As president of this league," said a voice which neither Nan norGabriel could recognise, "you will have great responsibility. I hope yourealise it."
"I'm in hopes I does, suh," replied the other, whose voice there was nodifficulty in recognising as that of the Rev. Jeremiah Tomlin.
"As you so aptly put it last night at your church, the bottom rail isnow on top, and it will stay there if the coloured people know their owninterests. Every dollar that has been made in the South during the parsttwo hundred years was made by the niggeroes and belongs to them."
"Dat is so, suh; dat is de Lord's trufe. I realise dat, suh; an' I'lltry fer ter make my people reelize it," responded the Rev. Jeremiah.
"What you lack in experience," continued the first speaker, "you make upin numbers. It is important to remember that. Organise your race, getthem together, impress upon them the necessity of acting as one man.Once organised, you will find leaders. All the arrangements have beenmade for that."
"I hears you, suh; an' b'lieves you," replied the Rev. Jeremiah withgreat ceremony.
"You have seen white men from a distance coming and going. Where didthey go?"
"Dey went ter Clopton's, suh; right dar an' nowhars else. I seed um,suh, wid my own eyes."
"You don't know what they came for. Well, I will tell you: they camehere to devise some plan by which they can deprive the niggeroes of theright to vote. Now, what do you suppose would be the simplest way to dothis?" The Rev. Jeremiah made no reply. He was evidently waiting in aweto hear what the plan was. "You don't know," the first speaker went onto say; "well, I will tell you. They propose to re-enslave the colouredpeople. They propose to take the ballots out of their hands and put intheir place, the hoe and the plough-handles. They propose to deprive youof the freedom bestowed upon you by the martyr President."
"You don't tell me, suh! Well, well!"
"Yes, that is their object, and they will undoubtedly succeed if yourpeople do not organise, and stand together, and give their support tothe Republican Party."
"I has b'longed ter de Erpublican Party, suh, sense fust I heard dename."
"We meet to-night in the school-house. Bring only a few--men whom youcan trust, and the older they are the better."
"I ain't so right down suttin and sho' 'bout dat, suh. Some er de ol'ones is mighty sot in der ways; dey ain't got de l'arnin', suh, an' deydunner what's good fer 'm. But I'll pick out some, suh; I'll try fer terfetch de ones what'll do us de mos' good."
"Very well, Mr. Tommerlin; the old school-house is the place, andthere'll be no lights that can be seen from the outside. Rap three timesslowly, and twice quickly--so. The password is----"
He must have whispered it, for no sound came to the ears of Nan andGabriel. The latter motioned his head to Nan, and the two walked aroundthe corner. As they turned Nan was saying, "You must go with me someday, and call on Eugenia Claiborne; she'll be delighted to see you--andshe's just lovely."
What answer Gabriel made he never knew, so intently was he engaged intrying to digest what he had heard. The Rev. Jeremiah took off his hatand smiled broadly, as he gave Nan and Gabriel a ceremonious bow. Theyresponded to his salute and passed on. The white man who had beentalking to the negro was a stranger to both of them, though both came toknow him very well--too well, in fact--a few months later. He had abouthim the air of a preacher, his coat being of the cut and colour of thegarments worn by clergymen. His countenance was pale, but all hisfeatures, except his eyes, stood for energy and determination. The eyeswere restless and shifty, giving him an appearance of uneasiness.
"What does he mean?" inquired Nan, when they were out of hearing.
"He means a good deal," replied Gabriel, who as an interested listenerat the conferences of the white leaders, had heard several prominent menexpress fears that just such statements would be made to the negroes bythe carpet-bag element; and now here was a man pouring the most alarmingand exciting tidings into the ears of a negro on the public streets.True, he had no idea that any one but the Rev. Jeremiah was in hearing,but the tone of his voice was not moderated. What he said, he said rightout.
"But what do you mean by a good deal?" Nan asked.
"You heard what he said," Gabriel answered, "and you must see what he istrying to do. Suppose he should convince the negroes that the whites aretrying to put them back in slavery, and they should rise and kill thewhites and burn all the houses?"
"Now, Gabriel, you know that is all nonsense," replied Nan, trying tolaugh. In spite of her effort to smile at Gabriel's explanation, herface was very serious indeed.
"Yonder comes Miss Claiborne," said Gabriel. "Good-bye, Nan; I'm stillsorry you are not as you used to be. I must go and see Mr. Sanders."With that, he turned out of the main street, and we
nt running across thesquare.
"That child worries me," said Nan, uttering her thought aloud, andunconsciously using an expression she had often heard on Mrs. Absalom'stongue. "Did you see that great gawk of a boy?" she went on, as EugeniaClaiborne came up. "He hasn't the least dignity."
"Well, you should be glad of that, Nan," Eugenia suggested.
"I? Well, please excuse me. If there is anything I admire in otherpeople, it is dignity." She straightened herself up and assumed such aserious attitude that Eugenia became convulsed with laughter.
"What did you do to Gabriel, Nan, that he should be running away fromyou at such a rate? Or did he run because he saw me coming?" Before Nancould make any reply, Eugenia seized her by both elbows--"And, oh, Nan!you know the Yankee captain who is in command of the Yankee soldiershere? Well, his name is Falconer, and mother says he is our cousin. Andwould you believe it, she wanted to ask him to tea. I cried when shetold me; I never was so angry in my life. Why, I wouldn't stay in thesame house nor eat at the same table with one who is an enemy of mycountry."
"Nor I either," said Nan with emphasis. "But he's very handsome."
"I don't care if he is," cried the other impulsively. "He has beenkilling our gallant young men, and depriving us of our liberties, andhe's here now to help the negroes lord it over us."
"Oh, now I know what Gabriel intends to do!" exclaimed Nan, but sherefused to satisfy Eugenia's curiosity, much to that young lady'sdiscomfort. "I must go," said Nan, kissing her friend good-bye. Eugeniastood watching her until she was out of sight, and wondered why she wasin such a hurry.
Nan had changed greatly in the course of two years, and, in somedirections, not for the better, as some of the older ones thought andsaid. They remembered how charming she was in the days when she threwall conventions to the winds, and was simply a wild, sweet littlerascal, engaged in performing the most unheard-of pranks, and cutting upthe most impossible capers. Until Margaret Gaither and Eugenia Claibornecame to Shady Dale, Nan had no girl-friends. All the others were eitherages too old or ages too young, or disagreeable, and Nan had to find heramusements the best way she could.
Margaret Gaither and Eugenia Claiborne had a very subduing effect uponNan. They had been brought up with the greatest respect for all thesmall formalities and conventions, and the attention they paid to thesereally awed Nan. The young ladies were free and unconventional enoughwhen there was no other eye to mark their movements, but at table, or incompany, they held their heads in a certain way, and they had rules bywhich to seat themselves in a chair, or to rise therefrom; they had beentaught how to enter a room, how to bow, and how to walk gracefully, aswas supposed, from one side of a room to the other. Nan tried hard tolearn a few of these conventions, but she never succeeded; she nevercould conform to the rules; she always failed to remember them at theproper time; and it was very fortunate that this was so. The nativegrace with which she moved about could never have been imparted by rule;but there were long moments when her failure to conform weighed upon hermind, and subdued her.
This was a part of the change that Gabriel found in her. She could nolonger, in justice to the rules of etiquette, seize Gabriel by thelapels of his coat and give him a good shaking when he happened todisplease her, and she could no longer switch him across the face withher braided hair--that wonderful tawny hair, so fine, so abundant, sosoft, and so warm-looking. No, indeed! the day for that was over, andvery sorry she was for herself and for Gabriel, too.
And while she was going home, following in the footsteps of that youngman (for Dorringtons' was on the way to Cloptons'), a thought struckher, and it seemed to be so important that she stopped still and clappedthe palms of her hands together with an energy unusual to young ladies.Then she gathered her skirt firmly, drew it up a little, and wentrunning along the road as rapidly as Gabriel had run. Fortunately, aknowledge of the rules of etiquette had not had the effect of paralysingNan's legs. She ran so fast that she was wellnigh breathless when shereached home. She rushed into the house, and fell in a chair, crying:
"Oh, Nonny!"
Gabriel Tolliver: A Story of Reconstruction Page 10
