peaking。 She remembered the cold wind that swept the orchard of Tara and Ashley standing by a pile of rails； his eyes looking beyond her。 And he had said—what？ Some funny foreign name that sounded like profanity and had talked of the end of the world。 She had not known what he meant then but now bewildered comprehension was coming to her and with it a sick； weary feeling。
“Why； Ashley said—”
“Yes？”
“Once at Tara he said something about the—a—dusk of the gods and about the end of the world and some such foolishness。”
“Ah； the G？tterd？mmerung！” Rhett’s eyes were sharp with interest。 “And what else？”
“Oh； I don’t remember exactly。 I wasn’t paying much mind。 But—yes—something about the strong coining through and the weak being winnowed out。”
“Ah； so he knows。 Then that makes it harder for him。 Most of them don’t know and will never know。 They’ll wonder all their lives where the lost enchantment has vanished。 They’ll simply suffer in proud and incompetent silence。 But he understands。 He knows he’s winnowed out。”
“Oh； he isn’t！ Not while I’ve got breath in my body。”
He looked at her quietly and his brown face was smooth。
“Scarlett； how did you manage to get his consent to come to Atlanta and take over the mill？ Did he struggle very hard against you？”
She had a quick memory of the scene with Ashley after Gerald’s funeral and put it from her。
“Why； of course not；” she replied indignantly。 “When I explained to him that I needed his help because I didn’t trust that scamp who was running the mill and Frank was too busy to help me and I was going to—well； there was Ella Lorena； you see。 He was very glad to help me out。”
“Sweet are the uses of motherhood！ So that’s how you got around him。 Well； you’ve got him where you want him now； poor devil； as shackled to you by obligations as any of your convicts are by their chains。 And I wish you both joy。 But； as I said at the beginning of this discussion； you’ll never get another cent out of me for any of your little unladylike schemes； my double…dealing lady。”
She was smarting with anger and with disappointment as well。 For some time she had been planning to borrow more money from Rhett to buy a lot downtown and start a lumber yard there。
“I can do without your money；” she cried。 “I’m making money out of Johnnie Gallegher’s mill； plenty of it； now that I don’t use free darkies and I have some money out on mortgages and we are coining cash at the store from the darky trade。”
“Yes； so I heard。 How clever of you to rook the helpless and the widow and the orphan and the ignorant！ But if you must steal； Scarlett； why not steal from the rich and strong instead of the poor and weak？ From Robin Hood on down to now； that’s been considered highly moral。”
“Because；” said Scarlett shortly； “it’s a sight easier and safer to steal—as you call it—from the poor。”
He laughed silently； his shoulders shaking。
“You’re a fine honest rogue； Scarlett！”
A rogue！ Queer that that term should hurt。 She wasn’t a rogue； she told herself vehemently。 At least； that wasn’t what she wanted to be。 She wanted to be a great lady。 For a moment her mind went swiftly down the years and she saw her mother； moving with a sweet swish of skirts and a faint fragrance of sachet； her small busy hands tireless in the service of others； loved； respected； cherished。 And suddenly her heart was sick。
“If you are trying to devil me；” she said tiredly； “it’s no use。 I know I’m not as—scrupulous as I should be these days。 Not as kind and as pleasant as I was brought up to be。 But I can’t help it； Rhett。 Truly； I can’t。 What else could I have done？ What would have happened to me； to Wade； to Tara and all of us if I’d been—gentle when that Yankee came to Tara？ I should have been—but I don’t even want to think of that。 And when Jonas Wilkerson was going to take the home place； suppose I’d been—kind and scrupulous？ Where would we all be now？ And if I’d been sweet and simple minded and not nagged Frank about bad debts we’d—oh； well。 Maybe I am a rogue； but I won’t be a rogue forever； Rhett。 But during these past years—and even now—what else could I have done？ How else could I have acted？ I’ve felt that I was trying to row a heavily loaded boat in a storm。 I’ve had so much trouble just trying to keep afloat that I couldn’t be bothered about things that didn’t matter； things I could part with easily and not miss； like good manners and—well； things like that。 I’ve been too afraid my boat would be swamped and so I’ve dumped overboard the things that seemed least important。”
“Pride and honor and truth and virtue and kindliness；” he enumerated silkily。 “You are right； Scarlett。 They aren’t important when a boat is sinking。 But look around you at your friends。 Either they are bringing their boats ashore safely with cargoes intact or they are content to go down with all flags flying。”
“They are a passel of fools；” she said shortly。 “There’s a time for all things。 When I’ve got plenty of money； I’ll be nice as you please； too。 Butter won’t melt in my mouth。 I can afford to be then。”
“You can afford to be—but you won’t。 It’s hard to salvage jettisoned cargo and； if it is retrieved； it’s usually irreparably damaged。 And I fear that when you can afford to fish up the honor and virtue and kindness you’ve thrown overboard； you’ll find they have suffered a sea change and not； I fear； into something rich and strange。 。。。”
He rose suddenly and picked up his hat。
“You are going？”
“Yes。 Aren’t you relieved？ I leave you to what remains of your conscience。”
He paused and looked down at the baby； putting out a finger for the child to grip。
“I suppose Frank is bursting with pride？”
“Oh； of course。”
“Has a lot of plans for this baby； I suppose？”
“Oh； well； you know how silly men are about their babies。”
“Then； tell him；” said Rhett and stopped short； an odd look on his face； “tell him if he wants to see his plans for his child work out； he’d better stay home at night more often than he’s doing。”
“What do you mean？”
“Just what I say。 Tell him to stay home。”
“Oh； you vile creature！ To insinuate that poor Frank would—”
“Oh； good Lord！” Rhett broke into a roar of laughter。 “I didn’t mean he was running around with women！ Frank！ Oh； good Lord！”
He went down the steps still laughing。
CHAPTER XLIV
THE MARCH AFTERNOON was windy and cold； and Scarlett pulled the lap robe high under her arms as she drove out the Decatur road toward Johnnie Gallegher’s mill。 Driving alone was hazardous these days and she knew it； more hazardous than ever before； for now the negroes were completely out of hand。 As Ashley had prophesied； there had been hell to pay since the legislature refused to ratify the amendment。 The stout refusal had been like a slap in the face of the furious North and retaliation had come swiftly。 The North was determined to force the negro vote on the state and； to this end； Georgia had been declared in rebellion and put under the strictest martial law。 Georgia’s very existence as a state had been wiped out and it had become； with Florida and Alabama； “Military District Number Three；” under the command of a Federal general。
If life had been insecure and frightening before this； it was doubly so now。 The military regulations which had seemed so stringent the year before were now mild by comparison with the ones issued by General Pope。 Confronted with the prospect of negro rule； the future seemed dark and hopeless； and the embittered state smarted and writhed helplessly。 As for the negroes； their new importance went to their heads； and； realizing that they had the Yankee Army behind them； their outrages increased。 No one was safe from them。
In this wild and fearful time； Scarlett was frightened—frightened but determined； and she still made her rounds alone； with Frank’s pistol tucked in the upholstery of the buggy。 She silently cursed the legislature for bringing this worse disaster upon them all。 What good had it done； this fine brave stand； this gesture which everyone called gallant？ It had just made matters so much worse。
As she drew near the path that led down through the bare trees into the creek bottom where the Shantytown settlement was； she clucked to the horse to quicken his speed。 She always felt uneasy driving past this dirty； sordid cluster of discarded army tents and slave cabins。 It had the worst reputation of any spot in or near Atlanta； for here lived in filth outcast negroes； black prostitutes and a scattering of poor whites of the lowest order。 It was rumored to be the refuge of negro and white criminals and was the first place the Yankee soldiers searched when they wanted a man。 Shootings and cuttings went on here with such regularity that the authorities seldom troubled to investigate and generally left the Shantytowners to settle their own dark affairs。 Back in the woods there was a still that manufactured a cheap quality of corn whisky and； by night； the cabins in the creek bottoms resounded with drunken yells and curses。
Even the Yankees admitted that it was a plague spot and should be wiped out； but they took no steps in this direction。 Indignation was loud among the inhabitants of Atlanta and Decatur who were forced to use the road for travel between the two towns。 Men went by Shantytown with their pistols loosened in their holsters and nice women never willingly passed it； even under the protection of their men； for usually there were drunken negro slatterns sitting along the road； hurling insults and shouting coarse words。
As long as she had Archie beside her； Scarlett had not given Shantytown a thought； because not even the most impudent negro woman dared laugh in her presence。 But since she had been forced to drive alone； there had been any number of annoying； maddening incidents。 The negro sluts seemed to try themselves whenever she drove by。 There was nothing she could do except ignore them and boil with rage。 She could not even take comfort in airing her troubles to her neighbors or family because the neighbors would say triumphantly： “Well； what else did you expect？” And her family