It. It comes out right near the MacIntosh place and that's only a

mile from Tara."

"Good. Maybe you can get past Rough and Ready all right. General

Steve Lee was there during the afternoon covering the retreat.

Maybe the Yankees aren't there yet. Maybe you can get through

there, if Steve Lee's men don't pick up your horse."

"_I_ can get through?"

"Yes, YOU." His voice was rough.

"But Rhett-- You-- Aren't going to take us?"

"No. I'm leaving you here."

She looked around wildly, at the livid sky behind them, at the dark

trees on either hand hemming them in like a prison wall, at the

frightened figures in the back of the wagon--and finally at him.

Had she gone crazy? Was she not hearing right?

He was grinning now. She could just see his white teeth in the

faint light and the old mockery was back in his eyes.

"Leaving us? Where--where are you going?"

"I am going, dear girl, with the army."

She sighed with relief and irritation. Why did he joke at this

time of all times? Rhett in the army! After all he'd said about

stupid fools who were enticed into losing their lives by a roll of

drums and brave words from orators--fools who killed themselves

that wise men might make money!

"Oh, I could choke you for scaring me so! Let's get on."

"I'm not joking, my dear. And I am hurt, Scarlett, that you do not

take my gallant sacrifice with better spirit. Where is your

patriotism, your love for Our Glorious Cause? Now is your chance

to tell me to return with my shield or on it. But, talk fast, for

I want time to make a brave speech before departing for the wars."

His drawling voice gibed in her ears. He was jeering at her and,

somehow, she knew he was jeering at himself too. What was he

talking about? Patriotism, shields, brave speeches? It wasn't

possible that he meant what he was saying. It just wasn't

believable that he could talk so blithely of leaving her here on

this dark road with a woman who might be dying, a new-born infant,

a foolish black wench and a frightened child, leaving her to pilot

them through miles of battle fields and stragglers and Yankees and

fire and God knows what.

Once, when she was six years old, she had fallen from a tree, flat

on her stomach. She could still recall that sickening interval

before breath came back into her body. Now, as she looked at

Rhett, she felt the same way she had felt then, breathless,

stunned, nauseated.

"Rhett, you are joking!"

She grabbed his arm and felt her tears of fright splash down her

wrist. He raised her hand and kissed it arily.

"Selfish to the end, aren't you, my dear? Thinking only of your

own precious hide and not of the gallant Confederacy. Think how

our troops will be heartened by my eleventh-hour appearance."

There was a malicious tenderness in his voice.

"Oh, Rhett," she wailed, "how can you do this to me? Why are you

leaving me?"

"Why?" he laughed jauntily. "Because, perhaps, of the betraying

sentimentality that lurks in all of us Southerners. Perhaps--

perhaps because I am ashamed. Who knows?"

"Ashamed? You should die of shame. To desert us here, alone,

helpless--"

"Dear Scarlett! You aren't helpless. Anyone as selfish and

determined as you are is never helpless. God help the Yankees if

they should get you."

He stepped abruptly down from the wagon and, as she watched him,

stunned with bewilderment, he came around to her side of the wagon.

"Get out," he ordered.

She stared at him. He reached up roughly, caught her under the

arms and swung her to the ground beside him. With a tight grip on

her he dragged her several paces away from the wagon. She felt the

dust and gravel in her slippers hurting her feet. The still hot

darkness wrapped her like a dream.

"I'm not asking you to understand or forgive. I don't give a damn

whether you do either, for I shall never understand or forgive

myself for this idiocy. I am annoyed at myself to find that so

much quixoticism still lingers in me. But our fair Southland needs

every man. Didn't our brave Governor Brown say just that? Not

matter. I'm off to the wars." He laughed suddenly, a ringing,

free laugh that startled the echoes in the dark woods.

"'I could not love thee, Dear, so much, loved I not Honour more.'

That's a pat speech, isn't it? Certainly better than anything I

can think up myself, at the present moment. For I do love you,

Scarlett, in spite of what I said that night on the porch last

month."

His drawl was caressing and his hands slid up her bare arms, warm

strong hands. "I love you, Scarlett, because we are so much alike,

renegades, both of us, dear, and selfish rascals. Neither of us

cares a rap if the whole world goes to pot, so long as we are safe

and comfortable."

His voice went on in the darkness and she heard words, but they

made no sense to her. Her mind was tiredly trying to take in the

harsh truth that he was leaving her here to face the Yankees alone.

Her mind said: "He's leaving me. He's leaving me." But no

emotion stirred.

Then his arms went around her waist and shoulders and she felt the

hard muscles of his thighs against her body and the buttons of his

coat pressing into her breast. A warm tide of feeling, bewildering,

frightening, swept over her, carrying out of her mind the time and

place and circumstances. She felt as limp as a rag doll, warm, weak

and helpless, and his supporting arms were so pleasant.

"You don't want to change your mind about what I said last month?

There's nothing like danger and death to give an added fillip. Be

patriotic, Scarlett. Think how you would be sending a soldier to

his death with beautiful memories."

He was kissing her now and his mustache tickled her mouth, kissing

her with slow, hot lips that were so leisurely as though he had the

whole night before him. Charles had never kissed her like this.

Never had the kisses of the Tarleton and Calvert boys made her go

hot and cold and shaky like this. He bent her body backward and

his lips traveled down her throat to where the cameo fastened her

basque.

"Sweet," he whispered. "Sweet."

She saw the wagon dimly in the dark and heard the treble piping of

Wade's voice.

"Muvver! Wade fwightened!"