and they’re third cousins。 And Aunt Pitty—Scarlett； you know she’s like a child。 And Uncle Henry is an old man。 Melanie loves you so much； not just because you were Charlie’s wife； but because—well； because you’re you and she loves you like a sister。 Scarlett； I have nightmares when I think what might happen to her if I were killed and she had no one to turn to。 Will you promise？”
She did not even hear his last request； so terrified was she by those ill…omened words； “if I were killed。”
Every day she had read the casualty lists； read them with her heart in her throat； knowing that the world would end if anything should happen to him。 But always； always； she had an inner feeling that even if the Confederate Army were entirely wiped out； Ashley would be spared。 And now he had spoken the frightful words！ Goose bumps came out all over her and fear swamped her； a superstitious fear she could not combat with reason。 She was Irish enough to believe in second sight； especially where death premonitions were concerned； and in his wide gray eyes she saw some deep sadness which she could only interpret as that of a man who has felt the cold finger on his shoulder； has heard the wail of the Banshee。
“You mustn’t say it！ You mustn’t even think it It’s bad luck to speak of death！ Oh； say a prayer； quickly！”
“You say it for me and light some candles； too；” he said； smiling at the frightened urgency in her voice。
But she could not answer； so stricken was she by the pictures her mind was drawing； Ashley lying dead in the snows of Virginia； so far away from her。 He went on speaking and there was a quality in his voice； a sadness； a resignation； that increased her fear until every vestige of anger and disappointment was blotted out。
“I’m asking you for this reason； Scarlett I cannot tell what will happen to me or what will happen to any of us。 But when the end comes； I shall be far away from here； even if I am alive； too far away to look out for Melanie。”
“The—the end？”
“The end of the war—and the end of the world。”
“But Ashley； surely you can’t think the Yankees win beat us？ All this week you’ve talked about how strong General Lee—”
“All this week I’ve talked lies； like all men talk when they’re on furlough。 Why should I frighten Melanie and Aunt Pitty before there’s any need for them to be frightened？ Yes； Scarlett； I think the Yankees have us。 Gettysburg was the beginning of the end。 The people back home don’t know it yet。 They can’t realize how things stand with us； but—Scarlett； some of my men are barefooted now and the snow is deep in Virginia。 And when I see their poor frozen feet； wrapped in rags and old sacks； and I see the blood prints they leave in the snow； and know that I’ve got a whole pair of boots—well； I feel like I should give mine away and be barefooted too。”
“Oh； Ashley； promise me you won’t give them away！”
“When I see things like that and then look at the Yankees—then I see the end of everything。 Why； Scarlett； the Yankees are buying soldiers from Europe by the thousands！ Most of the prisoners we’ve taken recently can’t even speak English。 They’re Germans and Poles and wild Irishmen who talk Gaelic。 But when we lose a man； he can’t be replaced。 When our shoes wear out； there are no more shoes。 We’re bottled up； Scarlett。 And we can’t fight the whole world。”
She thought wildly： Let the whole Confederacy crumble in the dust。 Let the world end； but you must not die！ I couldn’t live if you were dead！
“I hope you will not repeat what I have said； Scarlett。 I do not want to alarm the others。 And； my dear； I would not have alarmed you by saying these things； were it not that I had to explain why I ask you to look after Melanie。 She’s so frail and weak and you’re so strong； Scarlett。 It will be a comfort to me to know that you are together if anything happens to me。 You will promise； won’t you？”
“Oh； yes！” she cried； for at that moment； seeing death at his elbow； she would have promised anything。 “Ashley； Ashley！ I can’t let you go away！ I simply can’t be brave about it！”
“You must be brave；” he said； and his voice changed subtly。 It was resonant； deeper； and his words fell swiftly as though hurried with some inner urgency。 “You must be brave。 For how else can I stand it？”
Her eyes sought his face quickly and with joy； wondering if he meant that leaving her was breaking his heart； even as it was breaking hers。 His face was as drawn as when he came down from bidding Melanie good…by； but she could read nothing in his eyes。 He leaned down； took her face in his hands； and kissed her lightly on the forehead。
“Scarlett！ Scarlett！ You are so fine and strong and good。 So beautiful； not just your sweet face； my dear； but all of you； your body and your mind and your soul。”
“Oh； Ashley；” she whispered happily； thrilling at his words and his touch on her face。 “Nobody else but you ever—”
“I like to think that perhaps I know you better than most people and that I can see beautiful things buried deep in you that others are too careless and too hurried to notice。”
He stopped speaking and his hands dropped from her face； but his eyes still clung to her eyes。 She waited a moment； breathless for him to continue； a…tiptoe to hear him say the magic three words。 But they did not come。 She searched his face frantically； her lips quivering； for she saw he had finished speaking。
This second blighting of her hopes was more than heart could bear and she cried “Oh！” in a childish whisper and sat down； tears stinging her eyes。 Then she heard an ominous sound in the driveway； outside the window； a sound that brought home to her even more sharply the imminence of Ashley’s departure。 A pagan hearing the lapping of the waters around Charon’s boat could not have felt more desolate。 Uncle Peter； muffled in a quilt； was bringing out the carriage to take Ashley to the train。
Ashley said “Good…by；” very softly； caught up from the table the wide felt hat she had inveigled from Rhett and walked into the dark front hall。 His hand on the doorknob； he turned and looked at her； a long； desperate look； as if he wanted to carry away with him every detail of her face and figure。 Through a blinding mist of tears she saw his face and with a strangling pain in her throat she knew that he was going away； away from her care； away from the safe haven of this house； and out of her life； perhaps forever； without having spoken the words she so yearned to hear。 Time was going by like a mill race； and now it was too late。 She ran stumbling across the parlor and into the hall and clutched the ends of his sash。
“Kiss me；” she whispered。 “Kiss me good…by；”
His arms went around her gently； and he bent his head to her face。 At the first touch of his lips on hers； her arms were about his neck in a strangling grip。 For a fleeting immeasurable instant； he pressed her body close to his。 Then she felt a sudden tensing of all his muscles。 Swiftly； he dropped the hat to the floor and； reaching up； detached her arms from his neck。
“No； Scarlett； no；” he said in a low voice； holding her crossed wrists in a grip that hurt。
“I love you；” she said choking。 “I’ve always loved you。 I’ve never loved anybody else。 I just married Charlie to— to try to hurt you。 Oh； Ashley； I love you so much I’d walk every step of the way to Virginia just to be near you！ And I’d cook for you and polish your boots and groom your horse— Ashley； say you love me！ I’ll live on it for the rest of my life！”
He bent suddenly to retrieve his hat and she had one glimpse of his face。 It was the unhappiest face she was ever to see； a face from which all aloofness had fled。 Written on it were his love for and joy that she loved him； but battling them both were shame and despair。
“Good…by；” he said hoarsely。
The door clicked open and a gust of cold wind swept the house； fluttering the curtains。 Scarlett shivered as she watched him run down the walk to the carriage； his saber glinting in the feeble winter sunlight； the fringe of his sash dancing jauntily。
CHAPTER XVI
JANUARY AND FEBRUARY OF 1864 PASSED； full of cold rains and wild winds； clouded by pervasive gloom and depression。 In addition to the defeats at Gettysburg and Vicksburg； the center of the Southern line had caved。 After hard fighting； nearly all of Tennessee was now held by the Union troops。 But even with this loss on the top of the others； the South’s spirit was not broken。 True； grim determination had taken the place of high…hearted hopes； but people could still find a silver lining in the cloud。 For one thing； the Yankees had been stoutly repulsed in September when they had tried to follow up their victories in Tennessee by an advance into Georgia。
Here in the northwesternmost corner of the state； at Chickamauga； serious fighting had occurred on Georgia soil for the first time since the war began。 The Yankees had taken Chattanooga and then had marched through the mountain passes into Georgia； but they had been driven back with heavy losses。
Atlanta and its railroads had played a big part in making Chickamauga a great victory for the South。 Over the railroads that led down from Virginia to Atlanta and then northward to Tennessee； General Longstreet’s corps had been rushed to the scene of the battle。 Along the entire route of several hundred miles； the tracks had been cleared and all the available rolling stock in the Southeast had been assembled for the movement。
Atlanta had watched while train after train rolled through the town； hour after hour； passenger coaches； box cars； flat cars； filled with shouting men。 They had come without food or sleep； without their horses； ambulances or supply trains and； without waiting for the rest； they had leaped from the trains and into the battle。 And the Yankees had been driven out of Georgia； back into Tennessee。
It was the greatest feat of the war； and Atlanta took pride and personal satisfaction in the thought that its railroads had made the victory possible。
But the South had needed the cheering news from Chickamauga to strengthen its morale through the winter。 No one denied now that the Yankees were good fighters and； at last； they h