that night when frank deposited her and aunt pitty and the children at melanie’s and rodeoff down the street with ashley, scarlett could have burst with rage and hurt. how could he go offto a political meeting on this of all nights in the world? a political meeting! and on the same nightwhen she had been attacked, when anything might have happened to her! it was unfeeling andselfish of him. but then, he had taken the whole affair with maddening calm, ever since sam hadcarried her sobbing into the house, her basque gaping to the waist. he hadn’t clawed his beardeven once when she cried out her story. he had just questioned gently: “sugar, are you hurt—orjust scared?”
wrath mingling with her tears she had been unable to answer and sam had volunteered that shewas just scared.
“ah got dar fo’ dey done mo’n t’ar her dress.”
“you’re a good boy, sam, and i won’t forget what you’ve done. if there’s anything i can do foryou—”
“yassah, you kin sen’ me ter tara, quick as you kin. de yankees is affer me.”
frank had listened to this statement calmly too, and had asked no questions. he had looked verymuch as he did the night tony came beating on their door, as though this was an exclusivelymasculine affair and one to be handled with a minimum of words and emotions.
“you go get in the buggy. i’ll have peter drive you as far as rough and ready tonight and youcan hide in the woods till morning and then catch the train to jonesboro. it’ll be safer. ... now,sugar, stop crying. it’s all over now and you aren’t really hurt. miss pitty, could i have yoursmelling salts? and mammy, fetch miss scarlett a glass of wine.”
scarlett had burst into renewed tears, this time tears of rage. she wanted comforting,indignation, threats of vengeance. she would even have preferred him storming at her, saying thatthis was just what he had warned her would happen—anything rather than have him take it all socasually and treat her danger as a matter of small moment. he was nice and gentle, of course, butin an absent way as if he had something far more important on his mind.
and that important thing had turned out to be a small political meeting!
she could hardly believe her ears when he told her to change her dress and get ready for him toescort her over to melanie’s for the evening. he must know how harrowing her experience hadbeen, must know she did not want to spend an evening at melanie’s when her tired body andjangled nerves cried out for the warm relaxation of bed and blankets—with a hot brick to make hertoes tingle and a hot toddy to soothe her fears. if he really loved her, nothing could have forced him from her side on this of all nights. he would have stayed home and held her hand and told herover and over that he would have died if anything had happened to her. and when he came hometonight and she had him alone, she would certainly tell him so.
melanie’s small parlor looked as serene as it usually did on nights when frank and ashley wereaway and the women gathered together to sew. the room was warm and cheerful in the firelight.
the lamp on the table shed a quiet yellow glow on the four smooth heads bent to their needlework.
four skirts billowed modestly, eight small feet were daintily placed on low hassocks. the quietbreathing of wade, ella and beau came through the open door of the nursery. archie sat on a stoolby the hearth, his back against the fireplace, his cheek distended with tobacco, whittlingindustriously on a bit of wood. the contrast between the dirty, hairy old man and the four neat,fastidious ladies was as great as though he were a grizzled, vicious old watchdog and they foursmall kittens.
melanie’s soft voice, tinged with indignation, went on and on as she told of the recent outburstof temperament on the part of the lady harpists. unable to agree with the gentlemen’s glee clubas to the program for their next recital, the ladies had waited on melanie that afternoon andannounced their intention of withdrawing completely from the musical circle. it had taken all ofmelanie’s diplomacy to persuade them to defer their decision.
scarlett, overwrought, could have screamed: “oh, damn the lady harpists!” she wanted to talkabout her dreadful experience. she was bursting to relate it in detail, so she could ease her ownfright by frightening the others. she wanted to tell how brave she had been, just to assure herselfby the sound of her own words that she had, indeed, been brave. but every time she brought up thesubject, melanie deftly steered the conversation into other and innocuous channels. this irritatedscarlett almost beyond endurance. they were as mean as frank.
how could they be so calm and placid when she had just escaped so terrible a fate? theyweren’t even displaying common courtesy in denying her the relief of talking about it.
the events of the afternoon had shaken her more than she cared to admit, even to herself. everytime she thought of that malignant black face peering at her from the shadows of the twilight forestroad, she fell to trembling. when she thought of the black hand at her bosom and what would havehappened if big sam had not appeared, she bent her head lower and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
the longer she sat silent in the peaceful room, trying to sew, listening to melanie’s voice, thetighter her nerves stretched. she felt that at any moment she would actually hear them break withthe same pinging sound a banjo string makes when it snaps.
archie’s whittling annoyed her and she frowned at him. suddenly it seemed odd that he shouldbe sitting there occupying himself with a piece of wood. usually he lay flat on the sofa, during theevenings when he was on guard, and slept and snored so violently that his long beard leaped intothe air with each rumbling breath. it was odder still that neither melanie nor india hinted to himthat he should spread a paper on the floor to catch his litter of shavings. he had already made aperfect mess on the hearth rug but they did not seem to have noticed it.
while she watched him, archie turned suddenly toward the fire and spat a stream of tobaccojuice on it with such vehemence that india, melanie and pitty leaped as though a bomb hadexploded.
“need you expectorate so loudly?” cried india in a voice that cracked with nervous annoyance.
scarlett looked at her in surprise for india was always so self-contained.
archie gave her look for look.
“i reckon i do,” he answered coldly and spat again. melanie gave a little frowning glance atindia.
“i was always so glad dear papa didn’t chew,” began pitty, and melanie, her frown creasingdeeper, swung on her and spoke sharper words than scarlett had ever heard her speak.
“oh, do hush, auntie! you’re so tactless.”
“oh, dear!” pitty dropped her sewing in her lap and her mouth pressed up in hurt. “i declare, idon’t know what ails you all tonight you and india are just as jumpy and cross as two old sticks.”
no one answered her. melanie did not even apologize for her crossness but went back to hersewing with small violence.
“you’re taking stitches an inch long,” declared pitty with some satisfaction. “you’ll have to takeevery one of them out. what’s the matter with you?”
but melanie still did not answer.
was there anything the matter with them, scarlett wondered? had she been too absorbed withher own fears to notice? yes, despite melanie’s attempts to make the evening appear like any oneof fifty they had all spent together, there was a difference due to their alarm and shock at what hadhappened that afternoon. scarlett stole glances at her companions and intercepted a look from india.
it discomforted her because it was a long, measuring glance that carried in its cold depthssomething stronger than hate, something more insulting than contempt.
“as though she thought i was to blame for what happened,” scarlett thought indignantly.
india turned from her to archie and, all annoyance at him gone from her face, gave him a lookof veiled anxious inquiry. but he did not meet her eyes. he did however look at scarlett, staring ather in the same cold hard way india had done.
silence fell dully in the room as melanie did not take up the conversation again and, in thesilence, scarlett heard the rising wind outside. it suddenly began to be a most unpleasant evening.
now she began to feel the tension in the air and she wondered if it had been present all during theevening—and she too upset to notice it. about archie’s face there was an alert waiting look and histufted, hairy old ears seemed pricked up like a lynx’s. there was a severely repressed uneasinessabout melanie and india that made them raise their heads from their sewing at each sound ofhooves in the road, at each groan of bare branches under the wailing wind, at each scuffing soundof dry leaves tumbling across the lawn. they started at each soft snap of burning logs on the hearthas if they were stealthy footsteps.
something was wrong and scarlett wondered what it was. something was afoot and she did notknow about it. a glance at aunt pitty’s plump guileless face, screwed up in a pout, told her that theold lady was as ignorant as she. but archie and melanie and india knew. in the silence she couldalmost feel the thoughts of india and melanie whirling as madly as squirrels in a cage. they knewsomething, were waiting for something, despite their efforts to make things appear as usual. and their inner unease communicated itself to scarlett, making her more nervous than before. handlingher needle awkwardly, she jabbed it into her thumb and with a little scream of pain and annoyancethat made them all jump, she squeezed it until a bright red drop appeared.
“i’m just too nervous to sew,” she declared, throwing her mending to the floor. “i’m nervousenough to scream. i want to go home and go to bed. and frank knew it and he oughtn’t to havegone out. he talks, talks, talks about protecting women against darkies and carpetbaggers andwhen the time comes for him to do some protecting, where is he? at home, taking care of me? no,indeed, he’s gallivanting around with a lot of other men who don’t do anything but talk and—”
her snapping eyes came to rest on india’s face and she paused. india was breathing fast and herpale lashless eyes were fastened on scarlett’s face with a deadly coldness.
“if it won’t pain you too much, india,” she broke off sarcastically, “i’d be much obliged if you’dtell me why you’ve been staring at me all evening. has my face turned green or something?”
“it won’t pain me to tell you. i’ll do it with pleasure,” said india and her eyes glittered. “i hate tosee you underrate a fine man like mr. kennedy when, if you knew—”
“india!” said melanie warningly, her hands clenching on her sewing.
“i think i know my husband better than you do,” said scarlett, the prospect of a quarrel, the firstopen quarrel she had ever had with india, making her spirits rise and her nervousness depart.
melanie’s eyes caught india’s and reluctantly india closed her lips. but almost instantly she spokeagain and her voice was cold with hate.
“you make me sick, scarlett o’hara, talking about being protected! you don’t care about beingprotected! if you did you’d never have exposed yourself as you have done all these months,prissing yourself about this town, showing yourself off to strange men, hoping they’ll admire you!
what happened to you this afternoon was just what you deserved and if there was any justiceyou’d have gotten worse.”
“oh, india, hush!” cried melanie.
“let her talk,” cried scarlett “i’m enjoying it. i always knew she hated me and she was toomuch of a hypocrite to admit it. if she thought anyone would admire her, she’d be walking thestreets naked from dawn till dark.”
india was on her feet her lean body quivering with insult.
“i do hate you,” she said in a clear but trembling voice. “but it hasn’t been hypocrisy that’s keptquiet it’s something you can’t understand, not possessing any—any common courtesy,com(me) mon good breeding. it’s the realization that if all of us don’t hang together and submerge ourown small hates, we can’t expect to beat the yankees. but you—you—you’ve done all you couldto lower the prestige of decent people—working and bringing shame on a good husband, givingyankees and riffraff the right to laugh at us and make insulting remarks about our lack of gentility.
yankees don’t know that you aren’t one of us and have never been. yankees haven’t sense enoughto know that you haven’t any gentility. and when you’ve ridden about the woods exposingyourself to attack, you’ve exposed every well-behaved woman in town to attack by puttingtemptation in the ways of darkies and mean white trash. and you’ve put our men folks’ lives in danger because they’ve got to—”
“my god, india!” cried melanie and even in her wrath, scarlett was stunned to hear melanietake the lord’s name in vain. “you must hush! she doesn’t know and she—you must hush! youpromised—”
“oh, girls!” pleaded miss pittypat, her lips trembling.
“what don’t i know?” scarlett was on her feet, furious, facing the coldly blazing india and theimploring melanie.
“guinea hens,” said archie suddenly and his voice was contemptuous. before anyone couldrebuke him, his grizzled head went up sharply and he rose swiftly. “somebody comin’ up the walk.
‘tain’t mr. wilkes neither. cease your cackle.”
there was male authority in his voice and the women stood suddenly silent anger fading swiftlyfrom their faces as he stumped across the room to the door.
“who’s thar?” he questioned before the caller even knocked.
“captain butler. let me in.”
melanie was across the floor so swiftly that her hoops swayed up violently, revealing herpantalets to the knees, and before archie could put his hand on the knob she flung the door open.
rhett butler stood in the doorway, his black slouch hat low over his eyes, the wild wind whippinghis cape about him in snapping folds. for once his good manners had deserted him. he neithertook off his hat nor spoke to the others in the room. he had eyes for no one but melanie and hespoke abruptly without greeting.
“where have they gone? tell me quickly. it’s life or death.”
scarlett and pitty, startled and bewildered, looked at each other in wonderment and, like a leanold cat, india streaked across the room to melanie’s side.
“don’t tell him anything,” she cried swiftly. “he’s a spy, a scalawag!”
rhett did not even favor her with a glance.
“quickly, mrs. wilkes! there may still be time.”
melanie seemed in a paralysis of terror and only stared into his face.
“what on earth—” began scarlett.
“shet yore mouth,” directed archie briefly. “you too, miss melly. git the hell out of here, youdamned scalawag.”
“no, archie, no!” cried melanie and she put a shaking hand on rhett’s arm as though to protecthim from archie. “what has happened? how did—how did you know?”
on rhett’s dark face impatience fought with courtesy.
“good god, mrs. wilkes, they’ve all been under suspicion since the beginning—only they’vebeen too clever—until tonight! how do i know? i was playing poker tonight with two drunkenyankee captains and they let it out. the yankees knew there’d be trouble tonight and they’ve prepared for it. the fools have walked into a trap.”
for a moment it was as though melanie swayed under the impact of a heavy blow and rhett’sarm went around her waist to steady her.
“don’t tell him! he’s trying to trap you!” cried india, glaring at rhett. “didn’t you hear him sayhe’d been with yankee officers tonight?”
still rhett did not look at her. his eyes were bent insistently on melanie’s white face.
“tell me. where did they go? have they a meeting place?”
despite her fear and incomprehension, scarlett thought she had never seen a blanker, moreexpressionless face than rhett’s but evidently melanie saw something else, something that madeher give her trust. she straightened her small body away from the steadying arm and said quietlybut with a voice that shook:
“out the decatur road near shantytown. they meet in the cellar of the old sullivan plantation—the one that’s half-burned.”
“thank you. i’ll ride fast. when the yankees come here, none of you know anything.”
he was gone so swiftly, his black cape melting into the night, that they could hardly realize hehad been there at all until they heard the spattering of gravel and the mad pounding of a horsegoing off at full gallop.
“the yankees coming here?” cried pitty and, her small feet turning under her, she collapsed onthe sofa, too frightened for tears.
“what’s it all about? what did he mean? if you don’t tell me i’ll go crazy!” scarlett laid handson melanie and shook her violently as if by force she could shake an answer from her.
“mean? it means you’ve probably been the cause of ashley’s and mr. kennedy’s death!” inspite of the agony of fear there was a note of triumph in india’s voice. “stop shaking melly. she’sgoing to faint.”
“no, i’m not,” whispered melanie, clutching the back of a chair.
“my god, my god! i don’t understand! kill ashley? please, somebody tell me—”
archie’s voice, like a rusty hinge, cut through scarlett’s words.
“set down,” he ordered briefly. “pick up yore sewin’. sew like nothin’ had happened. for all weknow, the yankees might have been spyin’ on this house since sundown. set down, i say, and sew.”
trembling they obeyed, even pitty picking up a sock and holding it in shaking fingers while hereyes, wide as a frightened child’s went around the circle for an explanation.
“where is ashley? what has happened to him, melly?” cried scarlett.
“where’s your husband? aren’t you interested in him?” india’s pale eyes blazed with insanemalice as she crumpled and straightened the torn towel she had been mending.
“india, please!” melanie had mastered her voice but her white, shaken face and tortured eyesshowed the strain under which she was laboring. “scarlett, perhaps we should have told you but— but—you had been through so much this afternoon that we—that frank didn’t think—and youwere always so outspoken against the klan—”
“the klan—”
at first, scarlett spoke the word as if she had never heard it before and had no comprehension ofits meaning and then:
“the klan!” she almost screamed it. “ashley isn’t in the klan! frank can’t be! oh, he promisedme!”
“of course, mr. kennedy is in the klan and ashley, too, and all the men we know,” cried india.
“they are men, aren’t they? and white men and southerners. you should have been proud of himinstead of making him sneak out as though it were something shameful and—”
“you all have known all along and i didn’t—”
“we were afraid it would upset you,” said melanie sorrowfully.
“then that’s where they go when they’re supposed to be at the political meetings? oh, hepromised me! now, the yankees will come and take my mills and the store and put him in jail—oh,what did rhett butler mean?”
india’s eyes met melanie’s in wild fear. scarlett rose, flinging her sewing down.
“if you don’t tell me, i’m going downtown and find out. i’ll ask everybody i see until i find—”
“set,” said archie, fixing her with his eye. “i’ll tell you. because you went gallivantin’ thisafternoon and got yore-self into trouble through yore own fault, mr. wilkes and mr. kennedy andthe other men are out tonight to kill that thar nigger and that thar white man, if they can catchthem, and wipe out that whole shantytown settlement. and if what that scalawag said is true, theyankees suspected sumpin’ or got wind somehow and they’ve sont out troops to lay for them. andour men have walked into a trap. and if what butler said warn’t true, then he’s a spy and he isgoin’ to turn them up to the yankees and they’ll git kilt just the same. and if he does turn them up,then i’ll kill him, if it’s the last deed of m’ life. and if they ain’t kilt, then they’ll all have to lightout of here for texas and lay low and maybe never come back. it’s all yore fault and thar’s bloodon yore hands.”
anger wiped out the fear from melanie’s face as she saw comprehension come slowly acrossscarlett’s face and then horror follow swiftly. she rose and put her hand on scarlett’s shoulder.
“another such word and you go out of this house, archie,” she said sternly. “it’s not her faultshe only did—did what she felt she had to do. and our men did what they felt they had to do.
people must do what they must do. we don’t all think alike or act alike and it’s wrong to—to judgeothers by ourselves. how can you and india say such cruel things when her husband as well asmine may be—may be—”
“hark!” interrupted archie softly. “set, ma’m. thar’s horses.”
melanie sank into a chair, picked up one of ashley’s shirts and, bowing her head over it,unconsciously began to tear the frills into small ribbons.
the sound of hooves grew louder as horses trotted up to the house. there was the jangling of bits and the strain of leather and the sound of voices. as the hooves stopped in front of the house,one voice rose above the others in a command and the listeners heard feet going through the sideyard toward the back porch. they felt that a thousand inimical eyes looked at them through theunshaded front window and the four women, with fear in their hearts, bent their heads and pliedtheir needles. scarlett’s heart screamed in her breast: “i’ve killed ashley! i’ve killed him!” and inthat wild moment she did not even think that she might have killed frank too. she had no room inher mind for any picture save that of ashley, lying at the feet of yankee cavalrymen, his fair hairdappled with blood.
as the harsh rapid knocking sounded at the door, she looked at melanie and saw come over thesmall, strained face a new expression, an expression as blank as she had just seen on rhett butler’sface, the bland blank look of a poker player bluffing a game with only two deuces.
“archie, open the door,” she said quietly.
slipping his knife into his boot top and loosening the pistol in his trouser band, archie stumpedover to the door and flung it open. pitty gave a little squeak, like a mouse who feels the trap snapdown, as she saw massed in the doorway, a yankee captain and a squad of bluecoats. but theothers said nothing. scarlett saw with the faintest feeling of relief that she knew this officer. hewas captain tom jaffery, one of rhett’s friends. she had sold him lumber to build his house. sheknew him to be a gentleman. perhaps, as he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t drag them away toprison. he recognized her instantly and, taking off his hat, bowed, somewhat embarrassed.
“good evening, mrs. kennedy. and which of you ladies is mrs. wilkes?”
“i am mrs. wilkes,” answered melanie, rising and for all her smallness, dignity flowed from her.
“and to what do i owe this intrusion?”
the eyes of the captain flickered quickly about the room, resting for an instant on each face,passing quickly from their faces to the table and the hat rack as though looking for signs of maleoccupancy.
“i should like to speak to mr. wilkes and mr. kennedy, if you please.”
“they are not here,” said melanie, a chill in her soft voice.
“are you sure?”
“don’t you question miz wilkes’ word,” said archie, his beard bristling.
“i beg your pardon, mrs. wilkes. i meant no disrespect. if you give me your word, i will notsearch the house.”
“you have my word. but search if you like. they are at a meeting downtown at mr. kennedy’sstore.”
“they are not at the store. there was no meeting tonight,” answered the captain grimly. “wewill wait outside until they return.”
he bowed briefly and went out, closing the door behind him. those in the house heard a sharporder, muffled by the wind: “surround the house. a man at each window and door.” there was atramping of feet. scarlett checked a start of terror as she dimly saw bearded faces peering in the windows at them. melanie sat down and with a hand that did not tremble reached for a book on thetable. it was a ragged copy of les miserables, that book which caught the fancy of the confederatesoldiers. they had read it by campfire light and took some grim pleasure in calling it “lee’smiserables.” she opened it at the middle and began to read in a clear monotonous voice.
“sew,” commanded archie in a hoarse whisper and the three women, nerved by melanie’s coolvoice, picked up their sewing and bowed their heads.
how long melanie read beneath that circle of watching eyes, scarlett never knew but it seemedhours. she did not even hear a word that melanie read. now she was beginning to think of frankas well as ashley. so this was the explanation of his apparent calm this evening! he had promisedher he would have nothing to do with the klan. oh, this was just the kind of trouble she had fearedwould come upon them! all the work of this last year would go for nothing. all her struggles andfears and labors in rain and cold had been wasted. and who would have thought that spiritless oldfrank would get himself mixed up in the hot-headed doings of the klan? even at this minute, hemight be dead. and if he wasn’t dead and the yankees caught him, he’d be hanged. and ashley,too!
her nails dug, into her palms until four bright-red crescents showed. how could melanie read onand on so calmly when ashley was in danger of being hanged? when he might be dead? butsomething in the cool soft voice reading the sorrows of jean valjean steadied her, kept her fromleaping to her feet and screaming.
her mind fled back to the night tony fontaine had come to them, hunted, exhausted, withoutmoney. if he had not reached their house and received money and a fresh horse, he would havebeen hanged long since. if frank and ashley were not dead at this very minute, they were intony’s position, only worse. with the house surrounded by soldiers they couldn’t come home andget money and clothes without being captured. and probably every house up and down the streethad a similar guard of yankees, so they could not apply to friends for aid. even now they might beriding wildly through the night, bound for texas.
but rhett—perhaps rhett had reached them in time. rhett always had plenty of cash in hispocket. perhaps he would lend them enough to see them through. but that was queer. why shouldrhett bother himself about ashley’s safety? certainly he disliked him, certainly he professed acontempt for him. then why— but his riddle was swallowed up in a renewed fear for the safety ofashley and frank.
“oh, it’s all my fault!” she wailed to herself. “india and archie spoke the truth. it’s all my fault.
but i never thought either of them was foolish enough to join the klan! and i never thoughtanything would really happen to me! but i couldn’t have done otherwise. melly spoke the truth.
people have to do what they have to do. and i had to keep the mills going! i had to have money!
and now i’ll probably lose it all and somehow it’s all my fault!”
after a long time melanie’s voice faltered, trailed off and was silent. she turned her head towardthe window and stared as though no yankee soldier stared back from behind the glass. the othersraised their heads, caught by her listening pose, and they too listened.
there was a sound of horses’ feet and of singing, deadened by the closed windows and doors, borne away by the wind but still recognizable. it was the most hated and hateful of all songs, thesong about sherman’s men “marching through georgia” and rhett butler was singing it.
hardly had he finished the first lines when two other voices, drunken voices, assailed him,enraged foolish voices that stumbled over words and blurred them together. there was a quickcommand from captain jaffery on the front porch and the rapid tramp of feet. but even beforethese sounds arose, the ladies looked at one another stunned. for the drunken voices expostulatingwith rhett were those of ashley and hugh elsing.
voices rose louder on the front walk, captain jaffery’s curt and questioning, hugh’s shrill withfoolish laughter, rhett’s deep and reckless and ashley’s queer, unreal, shouting: “what the hell!
what the hell!”
“that can’t be ashley!” thought scarlett wildly. “he never gets drunk! and rhett—why, whenrhett’s drunk he gets quieter and quieter—never loud like that!”
melanie rose and, with her, archie rose. they heard the captain’s sharp voice: “these two menare under arrest.” and archie’s hand closed over his pistol butt.
“no,” whispered melanie firmly. “no. leave it to me.”
there was in her face the same look scarlett had seen that day at tara when melanie had stoodat the top of the steps looking down at the dead yankee, her weak wrist weighed down by theheavy saber—a gentle and timid soul nerved by circumstances to the caution and fury of a tigress.
she threw the front door open.
“bring him in, captain butler,” she called in a clear tone that bit with venom. “i suppose you’vegotten him intoxicated again. bring him in.”
from the dark windy walk, the yankee captain spoke: “i’m sorry, mrs. wilkes, but your husbandand mr. elsing are under arrest.”
“arrest? for what? for drunkenness? if everyone in atlanta was arrested for drunkenness, thewhole yankee garrison would be in jail continually. well, bring him in, captain butler—that is, ifyou can walk yourself.”
scarlett’s mind was not working quickly and for a brief moment nothing made sense. she knewneither rhett nor ashley was drunk and she knew melanie knew they were not drunk. yet here wasmelanie, usually so gentle and refined, screaming like a shrew and in front of yankees too, thatboth of them were too drunk to walk.
there was a short mumbled argument, punctuated with curses, and uncertain feet ascended thestairs. in the doorway appeared ashley, white faced, his head lolling, his bright hair tousled, hislong body wrapped from neck to knees in rhett’s black cape. hugh elsing and rhett, none toosteady on their feet, supported him on either side and it was obvious he would have fallen to thefloor but for their aid. behind them came the yankee captain, his face a study of mingled suspicionand amusement. he stood in the open doorway with his men peering curiously over his shouldersand the cold wind swept the house.
scarlett, frightened, puzzled, glanced at melanie and back to the sagging ashley and then half-comprehension came to her. she started to cry out: “but he can’t be drunk!” and bit back the words. she realized she was witnessing a play, a desperate play on which lives hinged. she knewshe was not part of it nor was aunt pitty but the others were and they were tossing cues to oneanother like actors in an oft-rehearsed drama. she understood only half but she understood enoughto keep silent.
“put him in the chair,” cried melanie indignantly. “and you, captain butler, leave this houseimmediately! how dare you show your face here after getting him in this condition again!”
the two men eased ashley into a rocker and rhett, swaying, caught hold of the back of the chairto steady himself and addressed the captain with pain in his voice.
“that’s fine thanks i get, isn’t it? for keeping the police from getting him and bringing himhome and him yelling and trying to claw me!”
“and you, hugh elsing, i’m ashamed of you! what will your poor mother say? drunk and outwith a—a yankee-loving scalawag like captain butler! and, oh, mr. wilkes, how could you dosuch a thing?”
“melly, i ain’t so very drunk,” mumbled ashley, and with the words fell forward and lay facedown on the table, his head buried in his arms.
“archie, take him to his room and put him to bed—as usual,” ordered melanie. “aunt pitty,please run and fix the bed and oo-oh,” she suddenly burst into tears. “oh, how could he? after hepromised!”
archie already had his arm under ashley’s shoulder and pitty, frightened and uncertain, was onher feet when the captain interposed.
“don’t touch him. he’s under arrest. sergeant!”
as the sergeant stepped into the room, his rifle at trail, rhett, evidently trying to steady himself,put a hand on the captain’s arm and, with difficulty, focused his eyes.
“tom, what you arresting him for? he ain’t so very drunk. i’ve seen him drunker.”
“drunk be damned,” cried the captain. “he can lie in the gutter for all i care. i’m no policeman.
he and mr. elsing are under arrest for complicity in a klan raid at shantytown tonight. a niggerand a white man were killed. mr. wilkes was the ringleader in it.”
“tonight?” rhett began to laugh. he laughed so hard that he sat down on the sofa and put hishead in his hands. “not tonight, tom,” he said when he could speak. “these two have been withme tonight—ever since eight o’clock when they were supposed to be at the meeting.”
“with you, rhett? but—” a frown came over the captain’s forehead and he looked uncertainlyat the snoring ashley and his weeping wife. “but—where were you?”
“i don’t like to say,” and rhett shot a look of drunken cunning at melanie.
“you’d better say!”
“le’s go out on the porch and i’ll tell you where we were.”
“you’ll tell me now.”
“hate to say it in front of ladies. if you ladies’ll step out of the room—”
“i won’t go,” cried melanie, dabbing angrily at her eyes with her handkerchief. “i have a right toknow. where was my husband?”
“at belle watling’s sporting house,” said rhett, looking abashed. “he was there and hugh andfrank kennedy and dr. meade and—and a whole lot of them. had a party. big party. champagne.
girls—”
“at—at belle watling’s?”
melanie’s voice rose until it cracked with such pain that all eyes turned frightenedly to her. herhand went clutching at her bosom and, before archie could catch her, she had fainted. then ahubbub ensued, archie picking her up, india running to the kitchen for water, pitty and scarlettfanning her and slapping her wrists, while hugh elsing shouted over and over: “now you’ve doneit! now you’ve done it!”
“now it’ll be all over town,” said rhett savagely. “i hope you’re satisfied, tom. there won’t bea wife in atlanta who’ll speak to her husband tomorrow.”
“rhett, i had no idea—” though the chill wind was blowing through the open door on his back,the captain was perspiring. “look here! you take an oath they were at—er—at belle’s?”
“hell, yes,” growled rhett “go ask belle herself if you don’t believe me. now, let me carrymrs. wilkes to her room. give her to me, archie. yes, i can carry her. miss pitty, go ahead with alamp.”
he took melanie’s limp body from archie’s arms with ease.
“you get mr. wilkes to bed, archie. i don’t want to ever lay eyes or hands on him again afterthis night.”
pitty’s hand trembled so that the lamp was a menace to the safety of the house but she held itand trotted ahead toward the dark bedroom. archie, with a grunt, got an arm under ashley andraised him.
“but—i’ve got to arrest these men!”
rhett turned in the dim hallway.
“arrest them in the morning then. they can’t run away in this condition—and i never knewbefore that it was illegal to get drunk in a sporting house. good god, tom, there are fifty witnessesto prove they were at belle’s.”
“there are always fifty witnesses to prove a southerner was somewhere he wasn’t,” said thecaptain morosely. “you come with me, mr. elsing. i’ll parole mr. wilkes on the word of—”
“i am mr. wilkes’ sister. i will answer for his appearance,” said india coldly. “now, will youplease go? you’ve caused enough trouble for one night.”
“i regret it exceedingly.” the captain bowed awkwardly. “i only hope they can prove theirpresence at the—er—miss—mrs. watling’s house. will you tell your brother that he must appearbefore the provost marshal tomorrow morning for questioning?”
india bowed coldly and, putting her hand upon the door knob, intimated silently that his speedy retirement would be welcome. the captain and the sergeant backed out, hugh elsing with them,and she slammed the door behind them. without even looking at scarlett, she went swiftly to eachwindow and drew down the shade. scarlett, her knees shaking, caught hold of the chair in whichashley had been sitting to steady herself. looking down at it, she saw that there was a dark moistspot, larger than her hand, on the cushion in the back of the chair. puzzled, her hand went over itand, to her horror, a sticky red wetness appeared on her palm.
“india,” she whispered, “india, ashley’s—he’s hurt.”
“you fool! did you think he was really drunk?” india snapped down the last shade and startedon flying feet for the bedroom, with scarlett close behind her, her heart in her throat. rhett’s bigbody barred the doorway but, past his shoulder, scarlett saw ashley lying white and still on thebed. melanie, strangely quick for one so recently in a faint, was rapidly cutting off his blood-soaked shirt with embroidery scissors. archie held the lamp low over the bed to give light and oneof his gnarled fingers was on ashley’s wrist.
“is he dead?” cried both girls together.
“no, just fainted from loss of blood. it’s through his shoulder,” said rhett.
“why did you bring him here, you fool?” cried india, “let me get to him! let me pass! why didyou bring him here to be arrested?”
“he was too weak to travel. there was nowhere else to bring him, miss wilkes. besides—doyou want him to be an exile like tony fontaine? do you want a dozen of your neighbors to live intexas under assumed names for the rest of their lives? there’s a chance that we may get them alloff if belle—”
“let me pass!”
“no, miss wilkes. there’s work for you. you must go for a doctor— not dr. meade. he’simplicated in this and is probably explaining to the yankees at this very minute. get some otherdoctor. are you afraid to go out alone at night?”
“no,” said india, her pale eyes glittering. “i’m not afraid.” she caught up melanie’s hooded capewhich was hanging on a book in the hall. “i’ll go for old dr. dean.” the excitement went out ofher voice as, with an effort, she forced calmness. “i’m sorry i called you a spy and a fool. i did notunderstand. i’m deeply grateful for what you’ve done for ashley—but i despise you just thesame.”
“i appreciate frankness—and i thank you for it.” rhett bowed and his lip curled down in anamused smile. “now, go quickly and by back ways and when you return do not come in this houseif you see signs of soldiers about.”
india shot one more quick anguished look at ashley, and, wrapping her cape about her, ranlightly down the hall to the back door and let herself out quietly into the night.
scarlett, straining her eyes past rhett, felt her heart beat again as she saw ashley’s eyes open.
melanie snatched a folded towel from the washstand rack and pressed it against his streamingshoulder and he smiled up weakly, reassuringly into her face. scarlett felt rhett’s hard penetratingeyes upon her, knew that her heart was plain upon her face, but she did not care. ashley was bleeding, perhaps dying and she who loved him had torn that hole through his shoulder. shewanted to run to the bed, sink down beside it and clasp him to her but her knees trembled so thatshe could not enter the room. hand at her mouth, she stared while melanie packed a fresh towelagainst his shoulder, pressing it hard as though she could force back the blood into his body. butthe towel reddened as though by magic.
how could a man bleed so much and still live? but, thank god, there was no bubble of blood athis lips—oh, those frothy red bubbles, forerunners of death that she knew so well from thedreadful day of the battle at peachtree creek when the wounded had died on aunt pitty’s lawn withbloody mouths.
“brace up,” said rhett, and there was a hard, faintly jeering note in his voice. “he won’t die.
now, go take the lamp and hold it for mrs. wilkes. i need archie to run errands.”
archie looked across the lamp at rhett.
“i ain’t takin’ no orders from you,” he said briefly, shifting his wad of tobacco to the othercheek.
“you do what he says,” said melanie sternly, “and do it quickly. do everything captain butlersays. scarlett, take the lamp.”
scarlett went forward and took the lamp, holding it in both hands to keep from dropping it.
ashley’s eyes had closed again. his bare chest heaved up slowly and sank quickly and the redstream seeped from between melanie’s small frantic fingers. dimly she heard archie stump acrossthe room to rhett and heard rhett’s low rapid words. her mind was so fixed upon ashley that ofthe first half-whispered words of rhett, she only heard: take my horse ... tied outside ... ride likehell.”
archie mumbled some question and scarlett heard rhett reply: “the old sullivan plantation.
you’ll find the robes pushed up the biggest chimney. burn them.”
“um,” grunted archie.
“and there’s two—men in the cellar. pack them over the horse as best you can and take them tothat vacant lot behind belle’s—the one between her house and the railroad tracks. be careful. ifanyone sees you, you’ll hang as well as the rest of us. put them in that lot and put pistols near them—in their hands. here—take mine.”
scarlett, looking across the room, saw rhett reach under his coat tails and produce two revolverswhich archie took and shoved into his waist band.
“fire one shot from each. it’s got to appear like a plain case of shooting. you understand?”
archie nodded as if he understood perfectly and an unwilling gleam of respect shone in his coldeye. but understanding was far from scarlett. the last half-hour had been so nightmarish that shefelt nothing would ever be plain and clear again. however, rhett seemed in perfect command ofthe bewildering situation and that was a small comfort.
archie turned to go and then swung about and his one eye went questioningly to rhett’s face.
“him?”
“yes.”
archie grunted and spat on the floor.
“hell to pay,” he said as he stumped down the hall to the back door.
something in the last low interchange of words made a new fear and suspicion rise up inscarlett’s breast like a chill ever-swelling bubble. when that bubble broke—“where’s frank?” she cried.
rhett came swiftly across the room to the bed, his big body swinging as lightly and noiselesslyas a cat’s.
“all in good time,” he said and smiled briefly. “steady that lamp, scarlett. you don’t want toburn mr. wilkes up. miss melly—”
melanie looked up like a good little soldier awaiting a command and so tense was the situation itdid not occur to her that for the first time rhett was calling her familiarly by the name which onlyfamily and old friends used.
“i beg your pardon, i mean, mrs. wilkes. ...”
“oh, captain butler, do not ask my pardon! i should feel honored if you called me ‘melly’
without the miss! i feel as though you were my—my brother or—or my cousin. how kind you areand how clever! how can i ever thank you enough?”
“thank you,” said rhett and for a moment he looked almost embarrassed. “i should neverpresume so far, but miss melly,” and his voice was apologetic, “i’m sorry i had to say that mr.
wilkes was in belle watling’s house. i’m sorry to have involved him and the others in such a—but i had to think fast when i rode away from here and that was the only plan that occurred to me.
i knew my word would be accepted because i have so many friends among the yankee officers.
they do me the dubious honor of thinking me almost one of them because they know my—shallwe call it my ‘unpopularity’?—among my townsmen. and you see, i was playing poker in belle’sbar earlier in the evening. there are a dozen yankee soldiers who can testify to that. and belle andher girls will gladly lie themselves black in the face and say mr. wilkes and the others were—upstairs all evening. and the yankees will believe them. yankees are queer that way. it won’t occurto them that women of—their profession are capable of intense loyalty or patriotism. the yankeeswouldn’t take the word of a single nice atlanta lady as to the whereabouts of the men who weresupposed to be at the meeting tonight but they will take the word of—fancy ladies. and i think thatbetween the word of honor of a scalawag and a dozen fancy ladies, we may have a chance ofgetting the men off.”
there was a sardonic grin on his face at the last words but it faded as melanie turned up to him aface that blazed with gratitude.
“captain butler, you are so smart! i wouldn’t have cared if you’d said they were in hell itselftonight, if it saves them! for i know and every one else who matters knows that my husband wasnever in a dreadful place like that!”
“well—” began rhett awkwardly, “as a matter of fact, he was at belle’s tonight.”
melanie drew herself up coldly.
“you can never make me believe such a lie!”
“please, miss melly! let me explain! when i got out to the old sullivan place tonight, i foundmr. wilkes wounded and with him were hugh elsing and dr. meade and old man merriwether—”
“not the old gentleman!” cried scarlett.
“men are never too old to be fools. and your uncle henry—”
“oh, mercy!” cried aunt pitty.
“the others had scattered after the brush with the troops and the crowd that stuck together hadcome to the sullivan place to hide their robes in the chimney and to see how badly mr. wilkes washurt. but for his wound, they’d be headed for texas by now—all of them—but he couldn’t ride farand they wouldn’t leave him. it was necessary to prove that they had been somewhere instead ofwhere they had been, and so i took them by back ways to belle watling’s.”
“oh—i see. i do beg your pardon for my rudeness, captain butler. i see now it was necessary totake them there but— oh, captain butler, people must have seen you going in!”
“no one saw us. we went in through a private back entrance that opens on the railroad tracks.
it’s always dark and locked.”
“then how—?”
“i have a key,” said rhett laconically, and his eyes met melanie’s evenly.
as the full impact of the meaning smote her, melanie became so embarrassed that she fumbledwith the bandage until it slid off the wound entirely.
“i did not mean to pry—” she said in a muffled voice, her white face reddening, as she hastilypressed the towel back into place.
“i regret having to tell a lady such a thing.”
“then it’s true!” thought scarlett with an odd pang. then he does live with that dreadful watlingcreature! he does own her house!”
“i saw belle and explained to her. we gave her a list of the men who were out tonight and sheand her girls will testify that they were all in her house tonight. then to make our exit moreconspicuous, she called the two desperadoes who keep order at her place and had us draggeddownstairs, fighting, and through the barroom and thrown out into the street as brawling drunkswho were disturbing the place.”
he grinned reminiscently. “dr. meade did not make a very convincing drunk. it hurt his dignityto even be in such a place. but your uncle henry and old man merriwether were excellent. thestage lost two great actors when they did not take up the drama. they seemed to enjoy the affair.
i’m afraid your uncle henry has a black eye due to mr. merriwether’s zeal for his part. he—”
the back door swung open and india entered, followed by old dr. dean, his long white hairtumbled, his worn leather bag bulging under his cape. he nodded briefly but without words tothose present and quickly lifted the bandage from ashley’s shoulder.
too high for the lung,” he said. “if it hasn’t splintered his collar bone it’s not so serious. get meplenty of towels, ladies, and cotton if you have it, and some brandy.”
rhett took the lamp from scarlett and set it on the table as melanie and india sped about,obeying the doctor’s orders.
“you can’t do anything here. come into the parlor by the fire.” he took her arm and propelledher from the room. there was a gentleness foreign to him in both hand and voice. “you’ve had arotten day, haven’t you?”
she allowed herself to be led into the front room and though she stood on the hearth rug in frontof the fire she began to shiver. the bubble of suspicion in her breast was swelling larger now. itwas more than a suspicion. it was almost a certainty and a terrible certainty. she looked up intorhett’s immobile face and for a moment she could not speak. then:
“was frank at—belle watling’s?”
“no.”
rhett’s voice was blunt.
“archie’s carrying him to the vacant lot near belle’s. he’s dead. shot through the head.”
那天晚上，弗兰克把思嘉、皮蒂姑妈和孩子们安顿在媚兰家以后，就和艾希礼一起骑马出去了。思嘉几乎要大发雷霆伤心地落泪了。在这样的一天晚上，他怎么还要出去参加什么政治集会呢？政治集会！就在这天晚上，她刚在外面受了欺侮，而且当时说不定还会出什么事，他怎么能这么对待她呢？这个人可真自私自利，没心肝，当她哭着，敞着怀，萨姆把她抱进屋来时，他一直很平静，他这种态度简直能把人气疯了。她一面哭，一面诉说事情经过。他都始终没有着急，他只慢条斯里地问：“宝贝儿，你是伤着了----还是光是受了惊？”她当时又气又恼，说不出话来，萨姆就主动替她说只是受了点惊。
“他们没来得及再撕她的衣服，我就赶到了。"“萨姆，你是个好孩子，我会记住你的好处。要是我能帮你做点什么----"“是的，先生，您可以送我到塔拉去。越快越好！北方佬正在抓我呢。"弗兰克听他这么说，也是很平静，而且也没再问什么，弗兰克的表情很像他在托尼来敲门的那天晚上的表情，仿佛这应该是男人的事，而且处理起来越少说话，越不动感情越好。
“你去上车吧。我叫彼得今天晚上就送你，把你送到拉甫雷迪，你先在树林子躲一夜，明天一早坐火车去琼斯博罗，这样比较稳妥。……啊，宝贝，别哭了，事情已经过去了，也并没有伤着你。皮蒂姑妈，请把嗅盐拿来给我用用，好吗？嬷嬷，去给思嘉小姐倒杯酒来。“这时思嘉又大声哭起来，这一次是生气而哭的，她需要得到他的安慰，需要他表示愤怒，说要为她报仇，她甚至希望他对她发火，说早就告诉她会出这样的事----怎么都行，就别这样显得平静而无所谓的样子，认为她没有遇到什么大不了的危险，他虽然表示很关心，很体贴，可就像是心不在焉，好像还有什么事，比这重要得多。
原来这件重要的事就是参加一次小小的政治集会。
思嘉听到弗兰克让她换衣服，准备送她到媚兰家去待一晚上，她真不敢相信自己是不是听清楚了。他应该知道她今天碰上这样的事有多么痛苦，现在已经筋疲力尽了，而且神经受了刺激，极需躺在床上，盖上毯子，暖暖和和地休息休息，再来一块热砖头暖暖脚，来一杯热甜酒压压惊，怎么会有心思到媚兰家去待一晚上呢。弗兰克要是真爱她，在这样一天的晚上，无论有什么重要的事，他也不能离开她的身边呀。他应该在家里守在她身边，握住她的手，一遍又一遍地对她说，她要是真出一什么事，他也就活不成了，等他今天晚上回来，他们俩单独在一起的时候，一定要把这个想法告诉他。
每逢弗兰克和艾希礼一道外出，女眷们都聚集在媚兰的小客厅里做针线活儿，气氛总是很宁静的，今晚也不例外，屋里炉火熊熊，使人感到很温暖而愉快。桌上的灯发出幽静的黄色光芒，照在四个女人光亮的头发上，她们就在这盏灯下埋头做针线。四个人的裙子轻轻飘动，八只小巧的脚轻轻地搭在脚凳上，育儿室的门开着，可以听到从里面传出韦德、爱拉和小博的轻微的呼吸声。阿尔奇坐在壁炉前的一张凳子上，背对着炉火，满嘴的烟叶把腮帮子撑得鼓鼓的，他在那里认真地削一块木头，这个蓬头垢面的老头儿和四位梳妆整齐、衣着讲究的妇人在一起，形成了鲜明的对照，仿佛他是一只花白的凶猛的看门老狗，而她们则是四只温顺可爱的小猫。
媚兰用略带气愤的口气没完没了地轻声述说最近妇女竖琴乐队发火的事，在讨论下次音乐会出什么节目的问题上，妇女们竖琴乐队未能和男声合唱团取得一致意见，于是当天下午就找到媚兰，宣布她们全都要退出乐团。媚兰尽全力解说协调，才说服她们暂不实行这项决定。
思嘉的心情依然没有平静，听媚兰这样滔滔不绝地反复讲述，几乎忍不住大喊：“去他妈的妇女竖琴乐队！"她非常想详细谈一谈她自己的可怕经历，让大家分担一下她所受到的惊吓。她想告诉她们自己当时是多么勇敢，这样她就可以借自己的声音向自己证实自己当时的确是很勇敢的。可是每当地提起这个话题，媚兰就巧妙地扯到别的无聊的事情上去。
这使得思嘉大为不满，几乎到了难以忍受的地步。这些人怎么都和弗兰克一样坏呢！
她刚逃脱那么可怕一次遭遇，这些人怎么就这样坦然，这样无动于衷？如果让她说一说，她会感到好受些，可这些人连这样一个机会也不给她，真是太缺乏起码的礼貌。
这天下午发生的事对她震动太大了，虽然她不肯承认，连对自己也不肯承认这一点。她只要一想起黄昏时在树林附近的路上，一张凶恶的黑脸在暗处向她窥视，就吓得她浑身哆嗦，她一想起那只黑手在她胸口乱抓，要是萨姆不来，还要可能会发生什么事，她就把头垂得更低，把眼睛闭得紧紧的。
她坐在这平静的客厅里沉默不语，一面想尽力安心做针线，一面听着媚兰说话，可是越是这样，她的神经绷得越紧，她觉得她的神经紧张得随时都会像班卓琴的弦一样砰的一声绷断的。
阿尔奇在那里削木头，她也感到不舒服，对着他直皱眉头。突然她又觉得奇怪，他为什么要坐在那里削木头呢？往常他晚上守卫的时候，总是直挺挺在躺在大沙发上睡觉，鼾声震耳，每呼一口气都把他那长胡子吹起来。使她觉得更为奇怪的是无论是媚兰，还是英迪亚。谁也不提醒他在地上铺张纸，免得木屑掉得到处都是。他已经把炉前的地毯弄得满是木屑一塌糊涂，她们仿佛什么都没有看见。
她正看着阿尔奇，他突然一转身往火上吐了大口嚼烟叶的唾沫，声音之大，使得英迪亚、媚兰和皮蒂都跳了起来，好像方才响了一颗炸弹。
“至于这么大声儿吗？"英迪亚说。她因为又紧张，心情不愉快，声音都有些嘶哑了。思嘉看了看她，感到很奇怪，因为英迪亚一向是比较矜持的。
阿尔奇也两眼盯着她，不甘示弱。
“我看就是这样，"他顶了一句，又吐了一口。媚兰朝着英迪亚皱了皱眉。
“我就喜欢爸爸从来不嚼烟叶，"皮蒂姑妈开口说话了。媚兰眉头皱得更厉害了，她回过头来说皮蒂，思嘉还没听见她说过这么难听的话呢。
“唔，别说了，姑妈。你真不会说话。”
“哎哟！"皮蒂说着就把针线活儿往腿上一撂，嘴也撅了起来。"我可告诉你们，我不知道你们这些人今天晚上是犯了什么玻你和英迪亚还不如两根木头棍子好说话呢。"谁也没理睬她。媚兰并没有因为说话太冲而向她赔不是，只安安静静地继续做起针线来。
“你的针脚太大了，"皮蒂得意地说，"全得拆下来重做。
你是怎么了？”
媚兰一声不吭，不回答她。
她们出了什么事吗？思嘉感到很纳闷，她是不是光去想自己受惊吓而没注意？真的，虽然媚兰千方百计想使大家觉得今天晚上和过去一起度过的许多夜晚没什么两样。但气氛却与往常不同。这种紧张气氛不可能完全是由于下午的事情大家感到吃惊而引起的。思嘉偷偷地看另外几个人，碰巧英迪亚也在看她。她感到心里很不舒服，因为英迪亚长时间地打量她，冷酷的眼神包含的不是痛恨与鄙视，而是更强列的感情。
“看样子她认为我是罪魁祸首了。"思嘉愤怒地这样想。
英迪亚把视线又转到阿尔奇身上，刚才脸上那种不耐烦的神色已经一扫而光，用一种焦急询问的眼光望着他。但阿尔奇并不理会她。他倒是在看思嘉和英迪亚一样冷冰冰地看着她。
媚兰没有再说什么，屋里鸦雀无声，在沉寂中，思嘉听见外面起风了。她突然觉得这是一个很不愉快的夜晚，现在她开始感到气氛紧张，心想也许整个晚上气氛都是紧张的，只是自己过于烦恼，没有注意吧。阿尔奇的脸上显出一种警惕、等待的神色，他竖着两只毛茸茸的耳朵，像只老山猫一样，媚兰