Gabriel Tolliver: A Story of Reconstruction

by Joel Chandler Harris

"There is no time like the present," replied Meriwether Clopton. "Will you come with me to my house?"

"Certainly, sir; and with the more pleasure because I called on my cousin Mrs. Claiborne to-day. I have forborne to call on her heretofore on account of the prejudice against us. But these arrests made it necessary for me to communicate with some of the influential friends of the young men. I was afraid my visit to-day would prove to be embarrassing to her. If I visit you at your invitation, the probability is she will have no social penalty to pay. I know what the feeling is."

Indeed, he knew too well. He had passed along the streets apparently perfectly oblivious to the attitude and movements of those whom he chanced to meet, but all his faculties had been awake, for he was a man of the keenest sensibilities. He had seen women and young girls curl their lips in a sneer, and toss their heads in scorn, as he passed them by; and some of them pulled their skirts aside, lest his touch should pollute them. He had observed all this, and he was wounded by it; and yet he had no resentment. Being a Southerner himself, he knew that the feelings which prompted such actions were perfectly natural, the fitting accompaniment of the humiliation which the radical element compelled the whites to endure.

In the course of his long and frequent walks in the countryside, Captain Falconer had made the acquaintance of Gabriel Tolliver, in whose nature the spirit of a gypsy vagrant seemed to have full sway; and Gabriel was the only person native to Shady Dale, except the ancient postmaster, with whom the young officer had held communication. He seemed to be cut off not only from all social intercourse, but even from acquaintanceship.

"You may rest assured," declared Meriwether Clopton, "that if I had known you were the son of my old friend, I would have sought you out, much as I detest the motives and purposes of those who have inaugurated this era of bayonet rule. And you may be sure, too, that in my house you will be a welcome guest."

"I appreciate your kindness, sir, and I shall remember it," said Captain Falconer.

That portion of Shady Dale which was moving about the streets with its eyes open was surprised and shocked—nay, wellnigh paralysed—to see the "Yankee Captain" on parade, as it were, with Meriwether Clopton on one side of him, and Mr. Sanders on the other. Yes, and the hand of the son of the First Settler (could their eyes deceive them?) was resting familiarly on the shoulder of the "Yankee!" Surely, here was food for thought. Were Meriwether Clopton and Mr. Sanders about to join the radicals? Well, well, well! At last one of the loungers, a man of middle age, who had seen service, raised his voice and put an end to comment.

"You can bet your sweet life," he declared, "that Billy Sanders knows what he's up to. He may not git the game he's after, but he'll fetch back a handful of feathers or hair. Mr. Clopton I don't know so well, but I was in the war wi' Billy Sanders, and I wish you'd wake me up and let me know when somebody fools him. There ain't a living man on the continent, nor under it neither, that can git on his blind side."

"Now you are whistlin'!" exclaimed one of his companions, and this seemed to settle the matter. If Mr. Sanders didn't know what he was about, why, then, everybody else in that neighbourhood might as well give up, "and let natur' cut her caper."

"I understand now why Mrs. Claiborne referred me to you," said Captain Falconer, when Mr. Sanders had related the nature and extent of the information which he had been able to gather during the morning.