It looked and sounded like the end of the world.

But she could not bring herself to go back into that room just yet.

She ran down the stairs with some idea of packing up Miss

Pittypat's china and the little silver she had left when she

refugeed to Macon. But when she reached the dining room, her hands

were shaking so badly she dropped three plates and shattered them.

She ran out onto the porch to listen and back again to the dining

room and dropped the silver clattering to the floor. Everything

she touched she dropped. In her hurry she slipped on the rag rug

and fell to the floor with a jolt but leaped up so quickly she was

not even aware of the pain. Upstairs she could hear Prissy

galloping about like a wild animal and the sound maddened her, for

she was galloping just as aimlessly.

For the dozenth time, she ran out onto the porch but this time she

did not go back to her futile packing. She sat down. It was just

Impossible to pack anything. Impossible to do anything but sit

with hammering heart and wait for Rhett. It seemed hours before he

came. At last, far up the road, she heard the protesting screech

of unoiled axles and the slow uncertain plodding of hooves. Why

didn't he hurry? Why didn't he make the horse trot?

The sounds came nearer and she leaped to her feet and called

Rhett's name. Then, she saw him dimly as he climbed down from the

seat of a small wagon, heard the clicking of the gate as he came

toward her. He came into view and the light of the lamp showed him

plainly. His dress was as debonaire as if he were going to a ball,

well-tailored white linen coat and trousers, embroidered gray

watered-silk waistcoat and a hint of ruffle on his shirt bosom.

His wide Panama hat was set dashingly on one side of his head and

in the belt of his trousers were thrust two ivory-handled, long-

barreled dueling pistols. The pockets of his coat sagged heavily

with ammunition.

He came up the walk with the springy stride of a savage and his

fine head was carried like a pagan prince. The dangers of the

night which had driven Scarlett into panic had affected him like an

intoxicant. There was a carefully restrained ferocity in his dark

face, a ruthlessness which would have frightened her had she the

wits to see it.

His black eyes danced as though amused by the whole affair, as

though the earth-splitting sounds and the horrid glare were merely

things to frighten children. She swayed toward him as he came up

the steps, her face white, her green eyes burning.

"Good evening," he said, in his drawling voice, as he removed his

hat with a sweeping gesture. "Fine weather we're having. I hear

you're going to take a trip."

"If you make any jokes, I shall never speak to you again," she said

with quivering voice.

"Don't tell me you are frightened!" He pretended to be surprised

and smiled in a way that made her long to push him backwards down

the steep steps.

"Yes, I am! I'm frightened to death and if you had the sense God

gave a goat, you'd be frightened too. But we haven't got time to

talk. We must get out of here."

"At your service, Madam. But just where were you figuring on

going? I made the trip out here for curiosity, just to see where

you were intending to go. You can't go north or east or south or

west. The Yankees are all around. There's just one road out of

town which the Yankees haven't got yet and the army is retreating

by that road. And that road won't be open long. General Steve

Lee's cavalry is fighting a rear-guard action at Rough and Ready to

hold it open long enough for the army to get away. If you follow

the army down the McDonough road, they'll take the horse away from

you and, while it's not much of a horse, I did go to a lot of

trouble stealing it. Just where are you going?"

She stood shaking, listening to his words, hardly hearing them.

But, at his question she suddenly knew where she was going, knew

that all this miserable day she had known where she was going. The

only place.

"I'm going home," she said.

"Home? You mean to Tara?"

"Yes, yes! To Tara! Oh, Rhett, we must hurry!"

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Tara? God Almighty, Scarlett! Don't you know they fought all day

at Jonesboro? Fought for ten miles up and down the road from Rough

and Ready even into the streets of Jonesboro? The Yankees may be

all over Tara by now, all over the County. Nobody knows where they

are but they're in that neighborhood. You can't go home! You

can't go right through the Yankee army!"

"I will go home!" she cried. "I will! I will!"

"You little fool," and his voice was swift and rough. "You can't

go that way. Even if you didn't run into the Yankees, the woods

are full of stragglers and deserters from both armies. And lots of

our troops are still retreating from Jonesboro. They'd take the

horse away from you as quickly as the Yankees would. Your only

chance is to follow the troops down the McDonough road and pray

that they won't see you in the dark. You can't go to Tara. Even