ces looked pinched and the few soldiers Scarlett saw wore the exhausted look of racers forcing themselves on through the last lap of a race already lost。
The last day of August came and with it convincing rumors that the fiercest fighting since the battle of Atlanta was taking place。 Somewhere to the south。 Atlanta； waiting for news of the turn of battle； stopped even trying to laugh and joke。 Everyone knew now what the soldiers had known two weeks before—that Atlanta was in the last ditch； that if the Macon railroad fell； Atlanta would fall too。
On the morning of the first of September； Scarlett awoke with a suffocating sense of dread upon her； a dread she had taken to her pillow the night before。 She thought； dulled with sleep： “What was it I was worrying about when I went to bed last night？ Oh； yes； the fighting。 There was a battle； somewhere； yesterday！ Oh； who won？” She sat up hastily； rubbing her eyes； and her worried heart took up yesterday’s load again。
The air was oppressive even in the early morning hour； hot with the scorching promise of a noon of glaring blue sky and pitiless bronze sun。 The road outside lay silent No wagons creaked by。 No troops raised the red dust with their tramping feet。 There were no sounds of negroes’ lazy voices in neighboring kitchens； no pleasant sounds of breakfasts being prepared； for all the near neighbors except Mrs。 Meade and Mrs。 Merriwether had refugeed to Macon。 And she could hear nothing from their houses either。 Farther down the street the business section was quiet and many of the stores and offices were locked and boarded up； while their occupants were somewhere about the countryside with rifles in their hands。
The stillness that greeted her seemed even more sinister this morning than on any of the mornings of the queer quiet week preceding it。 She rose hastily； without her usual preliminary burrowings and stretchings； and went to the window； hoping to see some neighbor’s face； some heartening sight。 But the road was empty。 She noted how the leaves on the trees were still dark green but dry and heavily coated with red dust； and how withered and sad the untended flowers in the front yard looked。
As she stood； looking out of the window； there came to her ears a far…off sound； faint and sullen as the first distant thunder of an approaching storm。
“Rain；” she thought in the first moment； and her country…bred mind added； “we certainly need it。” But； in a split instant： “Rain？ No！ Not rain！ Cannon！”
Her heart racing； she leaned from the window； her ear cocked to the far…off roaring； trying to discover from which direction it came。 But the dim thundering was so distant that； for a moment； she could not tell。 “Make it from Marietta； Lord！” she prayed。 “Or Decatur。 Or Peachtree Creek。 But not from the south！ Not from the south！” She gripped the window still tighter and strained her ears and the far…away booming seemed louder。 And it was coming from the south。
Cannon to the south！ And to the south lay Jonesboro and Tara—and Ellen。
Yankees perhaps at Tara； now； this minute！ She listened again but the blood thudding in her ears all but blurred out the sound of far…off firing。 No； they couldn’t be at Jonesboro yet。 If they were that far away； the sound would be fainter； more indistinct。 But they must be at least ten miles down the road toward Jonesboro； probably near the little settlement of Rough and Ready。 But Jonesboro was scarcely more than ten miles below Rough and Ready。
Cannon to the south； and they might be tolling the knell of Atlanta’s fall。 But to Scarlett； sick for her mother’s safety； fighting to the south only meant fighting near Tara。 She walked the floor and wrung her hands and for the first time the thought in all its implications came to her that the gray army might be defeated。 It was the thought of Sherman’s thousands so close to Tara that brought it all home to her； brought the full horror of the war to her as no sound of siege guns shattering windowpanes； no privations of food and clothing and no endless rows of dying men had done。 Sherman’s army within a few miles of Tara！ And even if the Yankees should be defeated； they might fall back down the road to Tara。 And Gerald couldn’t possibly refugee out of their way with three sick women。
Oh； if she were only there now； Yankees or not She paced the floor in her bare feet； her nightgown clinging to her legs and the more she walked the stronger became her foreboding。 She wanted to be at home。 She wanted to be near Ellen。
From the kitchen below； she heard the rattle of china as Prissy prepared breakfast； but no sound of Mrs。 Meade’s Betsy。 The shrill； melancholy minor of Prissy was raised； “Jes’ a few mo’ days； ter tote de wee…ry load 。。。” The song grated on Scarlett； its sad implications frightening her； and slipping on a wrapper she pattered out into the hall and to the back stairs and shouted： “Shut up that singing； Prissy！”
A sullen “Yas’m” drifted up to her and she drew a deep breath； feeling suddenly ashamed of herself。
“Where’s Betsy？”
“Ah doan know。 She ain’ came。”
Scarlett walked to Melanie’s door and opened it a crack； peering into the sunny room。 Melanie lay in bed in her nightgown； her eyes closed and circled with black； her heart…shaped face bloated； her slender body hideous and distorted。 Scarlett wished viciously that Ashley could see her now。 She looked worse than any pregnant woman she had ever seen。 As she looked； Melanie’s eyes opened and a soft warm smile lit her face。
“Come in；” she invited； turning awkwardly on her side。 “I’ve been awake since sun…up thinking； and； Scarlett； there’s something I want to ask you。”
She entered the room and sat down on the bed that was glaring with harsh sunshine。
Melanie reached out and took Scarlett’s hand in a gentle confiding clasp。
“Dear；” she said； “I’m sorry about the cannon。 It’s toward Jonesboro； isn’t it？”
Scarlett said “Um；” her heart beginning to beat faster as the thought recurred。
“I know how worried you are。 I know you’d have gone home last week when you heard about your mother； if it hadn’t been for me。 Wouldn’t you？”
“Yes；” said Scarlett ungraciously。
“Scarlett； darling。 You’ve been so good to me。 No sister could have been sweeter or braver。 And I love you for it。 I’m so sorry I’m in the way。”
Scarlett stared。 Loved her； did she？ The fool！
“And Scarlett； I’ve been lying here thinking and I want to ask a very great favor of you。” Her clasp tightened。 “If I should die； will you take my baby？”
Melanie’s eyes were wide and bright with soft urgency。
“Will you？”
Scarlett jerked away her hand as fear swamped her。 Fear roughened her voice as she spoke。
“Oh； don’t be a goose； Melly。 You aren’t going to die。 Every woman thinks she’s going to die with her first baby。 I know I did。”
“No； you didn’t You’ve never been afraid of anything。 You are just saying that to try to cheer me up。 I’m not afraid to die but I’m so afraid to leave the baby； if Ashley is— Scarlett； promise me that you’ll take my baby if I should die。 Then I won’t be afraid。 Aunt Pittypat is too old to raise a child and Honey and India are sweet but—I want you to have my baby。 Promise me； Scarlett And if it’s a boy； bring him up like Ashley； and if it’s a girl—dear； I’d like her to be like you。”
“God’s nightgown！” cried Scarlett； leaping from the bed。 “Aren’t things bad enough without you talking about dying？”
“I’m sorry； dear。 But promise me。 I think it’ll be today。 I’m sure it’ll be today。 Please promise me。”
“Oh； all right； I promise；” said Scarlett； looking down at her in bewilderment。
Was Melanie such a fool she really didn’t know how she cared for Ashley？ Or did she know everything and feel that because of that love； Scarlett would take good care of Ashley’s child？ Scarlett had a wild impulse to cry out questions； but they died on her lips as Melanie took her hand and held it for an instant against her cheek。 Tranquility had come back into her eyes。
“Why do you think it will be today； Melly？”
“I’ve been having pains since dawn—but not very bad ones。”
“You have？ Well； why didn’t you call me？ I’ll send Prissy for Dr。 Meade。”
“No； don’t do that yet； Scarlett。 You know how busy he is； how busy they all are。 Just send word to him that we’ll need him some time today。 Send over to Mrs。 Meade’s and tell her and ask her to come over and sit with me。 She’ll know when to really send for him。”
“Oh； stop being so unselfish。 You know you need a doctor as much as anybody in the hospital。 I’ll send for him right away。”
“No； please don’t。 Sometimes it takes all day having a baby and I just couldn’t let the doctor sit here for hours when all those poor boys need him so much。 Just send for Mrs。 Meade。 She’ll know。”
“Oh； all right；” said Scarlett。
CHAPTER XXI
AFTER SENDING UP Melanie’s breakfast tray； Scarlett dispatched Prissy for Mrs。 Meade and sat down with Wade to eat her own breakfast。 But for once she had no appetite。 Between her nervous apprehension over the thought that Melanie’s time was approaching and her unconscious straining to hear the sound of the cannon； she could hardly eat。 Her heart acted very queerly； beating regularly for several minutes and then thumping so loudly and swiftly it almost made her sick at her stomach。 The heavy hominy stuck in her throat like glue and never before had the mixture of parched corn and ground…up yams that passed for coffee been so repulsive。 Without sugar or cream it was bitter as gall； for the sorghum used for “long sweetening” did little to improve the taste。 After one swallow she pushed her cup away。 If for no other reason she hated the Yankees because they kept her from having real coffee with sugar and thick cream in it。
Wade was quieter than usual and did not set up his every morning complaint against the hominy that he so disliked。 He ate silently the spoonfuls she pushed into his mouth and washed them down with noisily gulped water。 His soft brown eyes followed her every movement； large； round as dollars； a childish bewilderment in them as though her own scarce…hidden fears had been communicated t