“Mist’ Gibbie was courtin’ Miss Ann, suh. He warn’t no ’count at all, no, suh, but Miss Ann, I reckon she thought a heap of him. Anyways, Col’nel Colfax, he didn’t say noffin much, no, suh, he jest kinder watched ’em. Den, ’bout six months after Mist’ Gibbie come courtin’, jest when we was all expectin’ a weddin’, come t’ find out Mist’ Gibbie was hangin’ round widder lady. Yes, suh, she’d come t’ town from New York, an’ she hab a heap ob money. Dey got talkin’ round at de clubs an’ de hotels an’ so on, suh, ’bout how Mist’ Gibbie done gib Miss Ann Colfax de mitten ’long ob dis lady. De col’nel—yo’ remembers him, suh? Well, de col’nel comes in one day, walkin’ kinder ob straight-like an’ sets down on de porch. ’Peared like to us, suh, we was all down in de kitchen, an’ de kitchen got a bead righ’ on de side porch—it ’peared like t’ us dat de col’nel was expectin’ company. Miss Ann, she was up-stairs, way back, lyin’ down wid a headache. Been cryin’, so Sally Johnson, her maid, say. Well, suh, it got on t’ ’bout two o’clock, an’ it was one ob dese yere white dust days. De rooster out in de road, he’d been dustin’ himself righ’ smart. Mr. Gibbie comes up. He comes ’long quiet-like, suh, expectin’ t’ see Miss Ann, an’ we was watchin’ because we done know de col’nel had seed him out wid de widow. De col’nel gits up, suh, an’ stands wid his hands in his pockets, awaitin’, terr’ble quiet. An’ Mist’ Gibbie, he comes up an’ asks fer Miss Ann. De col’nel, he look him up an’ down an’ he done say noffin, noffin at all. Den Mist’ Gibbie, he comes up de steps an’ he asks fer Miss Ann agin. Says he: ‘I was engaged t’ yer daughter, suh, an’ I wants ter see her.’ ‘Yo’ can see me, suh,’ says de col’nel. Den we didn’t heah what Mist’ Gibbie says. All t’ once, Col’nel, dere was somet’ing doin’. Col’nel Colfax, he lets fly one foot, suh, an’ Mist’ Gibbie, he lands smack on top of de rooster in de dust an’ dey rolls ober togedder. Dat was de las’ time Mist’ Gibbie asks fer Miss Ann Colfax, suh, it sho was.”
Colonel Denbigh pulled his moustache thoughtfully.
“Did he kill the rooster, Plato?” he asked solicitously.
Plato laughed. “No, suh, he was a heap more scared den de rooster.”
The colonel sighed. “Those were great days, Plato.”
“Dey sho’ was, suh!”
“I wish they’d come back,” Colonel Denbigh added regretfully, shaking his head.
IV
It was a clear, starry night, and the long black plume of smoke from the engine was plainly visible as the train rounded the curve and came slowly up to the station. It seemed to approach solemnly, with a certain portentous stateliness, its long line of lighted cars mysteriously welded together and suggesting a giant caterpillar suffering from internal conflagration.
The soft spring night, so illusive in its fragrance and its stillness, was suddenly riven by the fierce clamor of the monster’s bell, and the long platform of the station shook and trembled under foot.