In martial lines but failed. She'd go to Macon and stay with her

cousin, old Mrs. Burr, and the girls should come with her.

Scarlett did not want to go to Macon. Frightened as she was of the

shells, she'd rather stay in Atlanta than go to Macon, for she

hated old Mrs. Burr cordially. Years ago, Mrs. Burr had said she

was "fast" after catching her kissing her son Willie at one of the

Wilkes' house parties. No, she told Aunt Pitty, I'll go home to

Tara and Melly can go to Macon with you.

At this Melanie began to cry in a frightened, heartbroken way.

When Aunt Pitty fled to get Dr. Meade, Melanie caught Scarlett's

hand in hers, pleading:

"Dear, don't go to Tara and leave me! I'll be so lonely without

you. Oh, Scarlett, I'd just die if you weren't with me when the

baby came! Yes--Yes, I know I've got Aunt Pitty and she is sweet.

But after all, she's never had a baby, and sometimes she makes me

so nervous I could scream. Don't desert me, darling. You've been

just like a sister to me, and besides," she smiled wanly, "you

promised Ashley you'd take care of me. He told me he was going to

ask you."

Scarlett stared down at her in wonderment. With her own dislike of

this woman so strong she could barely conceal it, how could Melly

love her so? How could Melly be so stupid as not to guess the

secret of her love of Ashley? She had given herself away a hundred

times during these months of torment, waiting for news of him. But

Melanie saw nothing, Melanie who could see nothing but good in

anyone she loved. . . . Yes, she had promised Ashley she would

look out for Melanie. Oh, Ashley! Ashley! you must be dead, dead

these many months! And now your promise reaches out and clutches

me!

"Well," she said shortly, "I did promise him that and I don't go

back on my promises. But I won't go to Macon and stay with that

old Burr cat. I'd claw her eyes out in five minutes. I'm going

home to Tara and you can come with me. Mother would love to have

you."

"Oh, I'd like that! Your mother is so sweet. But you know Auntie

would just die if she wasn't with me when the baby came, and I know

she won't go to Tara. It's too close to the fighting, and Auntie

wants to be safe."

Dr. Meade, who had arrived out of breath, expecting to find Melanie

In premature labor at least, judging by Aunt Pitty's alarmed

summoning, was indignant and said as much. And upon learning the

cause of the upset, he settled the matter with words that left no

room for argument.

"It's out of the question for you to go to Macon, Miss Melly. I

won't answer for you if you move. The trains are crowded and

uncertain and the passengers are liable to be put off in the woods

at any time, if the trains are needed for the wounded or troops and

supplies. In your condition--"

"But if I went to Tara with Scarlett--"

"I tell you I won't have you moved. The train to Tara is the train

to Macon and the same conditions prevail. Moreover, no one knows

just where the Yankees are now, but they are all over everywhere.

Your train might even be captured. And even if you reached

Jonesboro safely, there'd be a five-mile ride over a rough road

before you ever reached Tara. It's no trip for a woman in a

delicate condition. Besides, there's not a doctor in the County

since old Dr. Fontaine joined the army."

"But there are midwives--"

"I said a doctor," he answered brusquely and his eyes unconsciously

went over her tiny frame. "I won't have you moved. It might be

dangerous. You don't want to have the baby on the train or in a

buggy, do you?"

This medical frankness reduced the ladies to embarrassed blushes

and silence.

"You've got to stay right here where I can watch you, and you must

stay in bed. No running up and down stairs to cellars. No, not

even if shells come right in the window. After all, there's not

so much danger here. We'll have the Yankees beaten back in no

time. . . . Now, Miss Pitty, you go right on to Macon and leave

the young ladies here."

"Unchaperoned?" she cried, aghast.

"They are matrons," said the doctor testily. "And Mrs. Meade is

just two houses away. They won't be receiving any male company

anyway with Miss Melly in her condition. Good Heavens, Miss Pitty!

This is war time. We can't think of the proprieties now. We must

think of Miss Melly."

He stamped out of the room and waited on the front porch until

Scarlett joined him.

"I shall talk frankly to you, Miss Scarlett," he began, jerking at

his gray beard. "You seem to be a young woman of common sense, so

spare me your blushes. I do not want to hear any further talk

about Miss Melly being moved. I doubt if she could stand the trip.

She is going to have a difficult time, even in the best of

circumstances--very narrow in the hips, as you know, and probably

will need forceps for her delivery, so I don't want any ignorant

darky midwife meddling with her. Women like her should never have

children, but-- Anyway, you pack Miss Pitty's trunk and send her

to Macon. She's so scared she'll upset Miss Melly and that won't

do any good. And now, Miss," he fixed her with a piercing glance,

"I don't want to hear about you going home, either. You stay with

Miss Melly till the baby comes. Not afraid, are you?"

"Oh, no!" lied Scarlett, stoutly.

"That's a brave girl. Mrs. Meade will give you whatever

chaperonage you need and I'll send over old Betsy to cook for you,

if Miss Pitty wants to take her servants with her. It won't be for

long. The baby ought to be here in another five weeks, but you

never can tell with first babies and all this shelling going on.

It may come any day."

So Aunt Pittypat went to Macon, in floods of tears, taking Uncle

Peter and Cookie with her. The carriage and horse she donated to

the hospital in a burst of patriotism which she immediately

regretted and that brought on more tears. And Scarlett and Melanie

were left alone with Wade and Prissy in a house that was much

quieter, even though the cannonading continued.

CHAPTER XIX

In those first days of the siege, when the Yankees crashed here and

there against the defenses of the city, Scarlett was so frightened

by the bursting shells she could only cower helplessly, her hands

over her ears, expecting every moment to be blown into eternity.

When she heard the whistling screams that heralded their approach,

she rushed to Melanie's room and flung herself on the bed beside

her, and the two clutched each other, screaming "Oh! Oh!" as they

buried their heads in the pillows. Prissy and Wade scurried for

the cellar and crouched in the cobwebbed darkness, Prissy squalling

at the top of her voice and Wade sobbing and hiccoughing.

Suffocating under feather pillows while death screamed overhead,

Scarlett silently cursed Melanie for keeping her from the safer

regions below stairs. But the doctor had forbidden Melanie to walk

and Scarlett had to stay with her. Added to her terror of being

blown to pieces was her equally active terror that Melanie's baby

might arrive at any moment. Sweat broke out on Scarlett with

clammy dampness, whenever this thought entered her mind. What

would she do if the baby started coming? She knew she'd rather let

Melanie die than go out on the streets to hunt for the doctor when

the shells were falling like April rain. And she knew Prissy could

be beaten to death before she would venture forth. What would she

do if the baby came?

These matters she discussed with Prissy in whispers one evening, as

they prepared Melanie's supper tray, and Prissy, surprisingly

enough, calmed her fears.

"Miss Scarlett, effen we kain git de doctah w'en Miss Melly's time

come, doan you bodder. Ah kin manage. Ah knows all 'bout

birthin'. Ain' mah ma a midwife? Ain' she raise me ter be a

midwife, too? Jes' you leave it ter me."

Scarlett breathed more easily knowing that experienced hands were

near, but she nevertheless yearned to have the ordeal over and done

with. Mad to be away from exploding shells, desperate to get home

to the quiet of Tara, she prayed every night that the baby would

arrive the next day, so she would be released from her promise and

could leave Atlanta. Tara seemed so safe, so far away from all

this misery.

Scarlett longed for home and her mother as she had never longed for

anything in all her life. If she were just near Ellen she wouldn't

be afraid, no matter what happened. Every night after a day of

screeching ear-splitting shells, she went to bed determined to tell

Melanie the next morning that she could not stand Atlanta another

day, that she would have to go home and Melanie would have to go to

Mrs. Meade's. But, as she lay on her pillow, there always rose the

memory of Ashley's face as it had looked when she last saw him,

drawn as with an inner pain but with a little smile on his lips:

"You'll take care of Melanie, won't you? You're so strong. . . .

Promise me." And she had promised. Somewhere, Ashley lay dead.

Wherever he was, he was watching her, holding her to that promise.

Living or dead, she could not fail him, no matter what the cost.

So she remained day after day.