CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
_Mr. Sanders's Riddle_
"I tell you how it is," said Mr. Sanders: "The riddle is how to git amessage to Gabriel; I could git the Captain thar to take it, but theCaptain will have as much as he can attend to, an' for that matter, sohave I. Wi' this riddle I'm overcrapped. Sence I left here, I've goneover the whole matter in my mind, ef you can call it a mind. I could godown thar myself, an' I'd be glad to, but could I git to have a privatetalk wi' Gabriel? I reckon not."
The remark was really interrogative, and was addressed to CaptainFalconer, who made a prompt reply--"I hardly think the scheme wouldwork. My impression is that orders have been issued from Atlanta forthese young men to be isolated. If that is so they can holdcommunication with no one but the sentinel on duty, or the officer whohas charge of them. They are to be treated as felons, though nothing hasbeen proved against them. I am not sure, but I think that is theprogramme."
"That is about what I thought," said Mr. Sanders, "an' that's what Itold Cephas here. When I was fetchin' my horse, Cephas, he comes up, an'he says, 'Mr. Sanders, have you heard from Gabriel?' an' I says, 'No,Cephas, we ain't had time for to git a word from 'em.' An' then he wenton to say, Cephas did, that he'd like mighty well to see Gabriel. I toldhim that maybe we could fix it up so as he could see Gabriel. You can'timagine how holp up the little chap was. To see him then, an' see himnow, you'd think it was another boy."
Captain Falconer looked at Cephas, and could see no guile. On thecontrary, he saw a freckled lad who appeared to be about ten years old;he was really nearly fourteen. Cephas was so ugly that he was ugly whenhe laughed, as he was doing now; but there was something about him thatattracted the attention of those who were older. It was a fact muchtalked about that this freckled little boy never went with children ofhis own age, but was always to be found with those much older. He wasGabriel's chum when Gabriel wanted a chum; he went hunting with FrancisBethune; and he could often be found at the store in which Paul Tomlinwas the chief clerk. He knew all the secrets of these young men, andkept them, and they frequently advised with him about the young ladies.
But he was fonder of Gabriel than of all the rest, and he was also fondof Nan, who had been kind to him in many ways. Cephas was one of thoseill-favoured little creatures, who astonish everybody by neverforgetting a favour. Gratitude ran riot in his small bosom, and he wasever ready to sacrifice himself for his friends.
Seeing that Captain Falconer continued to look at him, Cephas hung hishead. He was only too conscious of his ugliness, and was very sensitiveabout it. He wanted to be large and strong and handsome like Gabriel, ordark and romantic-looking like Francis Bethune; and sometimes he wasvery miserable because of the unkindness of fate or Providence in thismatter.
"And so you want to see your friends," said the Captain, very kindly.Every feature of his face showed that his sympathies were keen. "Theyare very far away, or will be when they get to their journey's end--toofar, I should think, for a little boy to travel."
"Maybe so," said Cephas, "but Gabriel had to go."
"I see," said the Captain; "wherever Gabriel goes, you are willing togo?"
"Yes, sir," replied Cephas very simply.
"I hope Gabriel appreciates it," remarked Sarah Clopton.
"Oh, he does!" exclaimed Cephas. "Gabriel knows. Why, one day----" Then,remembering the company he was in, he blushed, and refused to go on withwhat he intended to say.
Seeing his embarrassment, Mr. Sanders came to his rescue. "What I wantto know, Captain, is this: if that little chap comes down to Savannah,will you allow him to see Gabriel and talk to him?"
Again the Captain looked at the boy, and Cephas, catching a certainhumourous gleam in the gentleman's eye, began to smile. "Now, then,"said Captain Falconer, with an answering smile, "how would you like togo with me?"
"I think I would like it," replied Cephas, with a broad grin; "I thinkthat would be fine."
"And what does Mr. Sanders think of it?" the Captain asked.
"Well, I hadn't looked at it from that p'int of view," said Mr. Sanders."I 'lowed maybe that the best an' cheapest plan would be for me to takethe little chap down an' fetch him back."
"My opinion may not be worth much, Mr. Sanders," said Sarah Clopton,"but I think it would be a shame to take that child so far away fromhome. I don't believe his mother will allow him to go."
"That is a matter that was jest fixin' for to worry me," remarked Mr.Sanders. "I could feel it kinder fermentin' in my mind, like molassesturnin' to vinegar, an' now that you've fetched it to the top, Sarah,we'll settle it before we go any furder. Come, Cephas; we'll go an' seeyour mammy, an' see ef we can't coax her into lettin' you go. You'llhave to do your best, my son; I'll coax, an' you must wheedle."
As they went out, Cephas was laughing at Mr. Sanders's remark aboutwheedling. The youngster was an expert in that business. He was hismother's only child, and he had learned at a very early age just how tomanage her.
"What troubles me, Cephas," said Mr. Sanders, "is how you can git amessage to Gabriel wi'out lettin' the cat out'n the bag. He'll besurrounder'd in sech a way that you can't git a word wi' 'im wi'outtellin' the whole caboodle."
At that moment, Mr. Sanders heard a small voice cry out something likethis: "Phazasee! Phazasee! arawa ooya ingagog?"
To which jabbering Cephas made prompt reply: "Iya ingagog ota annysavvyota eesa gibbleable!"
"Ooya ibfa! Ooya ibfa!" jeered the small voice.
Mr. Sanders looked at Cephas in astonishment. "What kinder lingo isthat?" he asked.
"It's the way we school-children talk when we don't want anybody to knowwhat we are saying. Johnny asked me where I was going, and I told him Iwas going to Savannah to see Gabriel."
"Did he know what you said?"
"Why, he couldn't help but know, but he didn't believe it; he said itwas a fib."
"Well, I'll be jigged!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. "Call that boy overhere."
Cephas turned around--they had passed the house where the little boylived--and called out: "Onnaja! Onnaja! Stermera Andersa antwasa otaeesa ooya."
The small boy came running, though there was a doubtful look on hisface. He had frequently been the victim of Cephas's practical jokes.
Mr. Sanders questioned him closely, and he confirmed the interpretationof the lingo which Cephas had given to Mr. Sanders.
"Do you mean to tell me," said Mr. Sanders to Cephas when they haddismissed the small boy, "that this kinder thing has been goin' on rightunder my nose, an' I not knowin' a word about it? How'd you pick up thelingo?"
"Gabriel teached it to me," replied Cephas. "He talks it better than anyof the boys, and I come next." This last remark Cephas made with ablush.
"Do I look pale, my son?" inquired Mr. Sanders, mopping his red facewith his handkerchief. Cephas gave a negative reply by shaking his head."Well, I may not look pale, but I shorely feel pale. You'll have to loanme your arm, Cephas; I feel like Christopher Columbus did when hediscovered Atlanta, Ga."
"Why, he didn't discover Atlanta, Mr. Sanders," protested Cephas.
"He didn't!" exclaimed Mr. Sanders. "Well, it was his own fault ef hedidn't. All he had to do was to read the country newspapers. But that'sneither here nor thar. Here I've been buttin' my head ag'in trees, an'walkin' in my sleep tryin' for to study up some plan to git word toGabriel, an' here you walk along the street an' make me a present of thevery thing I want, an' I ain't even thanked you for it."
Cephas couldn't guess what Mr. Sanders was driving at, and he asked noquestions. His mind was too full of his proposed trip. When theproposition was first broached to Cephas's mother, she scouted the ideaof allowing her boy to make the journey. He was all she had, and shouldanything happen to him--well, the world wouldn't be the same world toher. And it was so far away; why, she had heard some one say thatSavannah was right on the brink of the ocean--that great monster thatswallowed ships and men by the thousand, and was just as hungryafterward as before. But Cephas began to cry, saying that
he wanted tosee Gabriel; and Mr. Sanders told Gabriel's side of the story. Betweenthe two, the poor woman had no option but to say that she'd consider thematter, and when a woman begins to consider--well, according to theancient philosophers, it's the same as saying yes.
The truth is, a great deal of pressure was brought to bear on Cephas'smother, in one way and another. Meriwether Clopton called on her,bringing Captain Falconer. She was not at all pleased to see theCaptain, and she made no effort to conceal her prejudice. "I never didthink that I'd speak to a man in that uniform," she said with a very redface. But she was better satisfied when Meriwether Clopton told her thatthe Captain was the son of his dearest friend, and that he was utterlyopposed to the radical policy.
The upshot of the matter was that, with many a sigh and some tears, shegave her consent for her onliest, her dearest, and her bestest, to go onthe long journey. And then, after consenting, she was angry with herselfbecause she had consented. In short, she was as miserable and as anxiousas mother-love can make a woman, and poor Cephas never could understanduntil he became a grown man, and had children of his own, how his mothercould make such a to-do over the opportunity that Providence had thrownin his way. To tell the truth, he was almost irritated at the obstaclesand objections that the vivid imagination of his mother kept conjuringup. She said he must be sure not to fall in the ocean, and he must keepout of the way of the railroad trains. She cried silently all the timeshe was packing his modest supply of clothes in a valise, and put sometea-cakes in one corner, and a little Testament in the other.
It is no wonder that children who do not understand such feelings shouldbe impatient of them, and Cephas is to be excused if he watched thewhole proceeding with something like contempt for woman's weakness. Buthe has bitterly regretted, oh, tens of thousands of times, that, insteadof standing aloof from his mother's feelings, he did not throw his armsaround her, and tell how much he appreciated her love, and how everytear she shed for him was worth to him a hundred times more than adiamond. But Cephas was a boy, and, being a boy, he could not risesuperior to his boy's nature.
It was arranged that Cephas was to go to Savannah with Captain Falconer,and return with Mr. Sanders, who would take advantage of the occasion tosettle up some old business with the firm that had acted as factor forMeriwether Clopton before the war. The arrangement took place when Mr.Sanders returned home after his visit to Cephas's mother, and was ofcourse conditional on her consent, which was not obtained at once.
Mr. Sanders was shrewd enough not to dwell too much on the plight of theyoung men on his return. By some method of his own, he seemed to sweepthe whole matter from his mind, and both he and Meriwether Cloptonaddressed themselves to such topics as they imagined the Federal Captainwould find interesting; and in this they were seconded by Sarah Clopton,whom Robert Toombs declared to be one of the finest conversationalistsof her time when she chose to exert her powers. But for the softnessand fine harmony of her features, her face would have been calledmasculine. Her countenance was entirely responsive to her emotions, andit was delightful to watch the eloquent play of her features. CaptainFalconer fell quickly under the spell of her conversation, for one ofits chiefest charms was the ease with which she brought out the bestthoughts of his mind--thoughts and views that were a part of his innerself.
It was the same at dinner, where, without monopolising the talk, she ledit this way and that, but always in channels that were congenial andpleasing to the Captain, and that enabled him to appear at his best. Inhonour of his guest, Meriwether Clopton brought out some fine old claretthat had lain for many years undisturbed in the cellar.
"Thank you, Sarah," said Mr. Sanders, when the hostess pressed him tohave a glass, "I'll not trouble you for any to-day. I've made theacquaintance of that claret. It ain't sour enough for vinegar, norstrong enough for liquor; it's a kind of a cross betwixt a seconddrawin' of tea an' the syrup of squills; an' no matter how hard you hitit it'll never hit you back. It's lots too mild for a Son of Temp'rancelike me. No; gi' me a full jug an' a shuck-pen to crawl into, an' youmay have all the wine, red or yaller."
But the fine old claret was thoroughly enjoyed by those who couldappreciate the flower of its age and the flavour of its vintage; andwhen dinner was over, and Captain Falconer was on his way to camp, hefelt that, outside of his own home, he had never had such a pleasantexperience.
In the course of a few days orders came from Atlanta for CaptainFalconer to turn over the command of the detachment to the officer nextin rank, and proceed to Malvern, where he would find furtherinstructions awaiting him. When the time came for Cephas to be off withthe Captain, you may well believe that his mother saw all sorts oftrouble ahead for him. She had dreamed some very queer dreams, she said,and she was very sure that no good would follow. And at the last moment,she would have taken Cephas from the barouche which had come for him, ifthe driver, following the instructions of Mr. Sanders, had not whippedup his horses, and left the lady standing in the street.
As for Cephas, he found that parting from his mother was not such a finething after all. He watched her through a mist of tears, and waved hishandkerchief as long as he could see her; and then after that he was theloneliest little fellow you have ever seen. He refused to eat the extratea-cake that his mother had put in the pocket of his jacket, and madeup his mind to be perfectly miserable until he got back home. But, afterall, boys are boys, and the feeling of loneliness and dejection woreaway after awhile, and before he had gone many miles, what with makingthe acquaintance of the driver, who was a private soldier, and gettingon friendly terms with Captain Falconer, he soon arrived at the pointwhere he relished his tea-cake, and when this had been devoured, he feltas if travelling was the most delightful thing in the world, especiallyif a fellow has been intrusted with a tremendous secret that nobody elsein the world knew besides Mr. Sanders and himself.
For as soon as Mr. Sanders discovered that the Captain would be willingto have Cephas go along, he had taken the little chap in hand, andthoroughly impressed upon his mind everything he wanted him to say toGabriel, and he was not satisfied until Cephas had written the messageout in the dog-latin of the school-children, and had learned it byheart. Mr. Sanders also impressed on the little lad's mind theprobability that the Captain would be curious as to the nature of themessage; and he gave Cephas a plausible answer for every question thatan inquisitive person could put to him, and made him repeat theseanswers over and over again. In fact, Cephas was compelled to study ashard as if he had been in school, but he relished the part he was toplay, and learned it with a zest that was very pleasing to Mr. Sanders.Only an hour before he was to leave with the Captain, Mr. Sanders wentto Cephas's home, and made him repeat over everything he had beentaught, and the glibness with which the little lad repeated the answersto the questions was something wonderful in so small a chap.
"Don't git lonesome, Cephas," was the parting injunction of Mr. Sanders."Don't forgit that I'll be on the train when the whistle blows. I'mgwine to start right off. You may not see me, but I'll not be far off.Keep a stiff upper lip, an' don't git into no panic. The whole thing isgwine through like it was on skids, an' the skids greased."
Gabriel Tolliver: A Story of Reconstruction Page 26
