It. Then Scarlett saw with relief the faint rise and fall of her

shallow breathing and knew that Melanie had survived the night.

Scarlett shaded her eyes with her hand and looked about her. They

had evidently spent the night under the trees in someone's front

yard, for a sand and gravel driveway stretched out before her,

winding away under an avenue of cedars.

"Why, it's the Mallory place!" she thought, her heart leaping with

gladness at the thought of friends and help.

But a stillness as of death hung over the plantation. The shrubs

and grass of the lawn were cut to pieces where hooves and wheels

and feet had torn frantically back and forth until the soil was

churned up. She looked toward the house and instead of the old

white clapboard place she knew so well, she saw there only a long

rectangle of blackened granite foundation stones and two tall

chimneys rearing smoke-stained bricks into the charred leaves of

still trees.

She drew a deep shuddering breath. Would she find Tara like this,

level with the ground, silent as the dead?

"I mustn't think about that now," she told herself hurriedly. "I

mustn't let myself think about it. I'll get scared again if I

think about it." But, in spite of herself, her heart quickened and

each beat seemed to thunder: "Home! Hurry! Home! Hurry!"

They must be starting on toward home again. But first they must

find some food and water, especially water. She prodded Prissy

awake. Prissy rolled her eyes as she looked about her.

"Fo' Gawd, Miss Scarlett, Ah din' spec ter wake up agin 'cept in de

Promise Lan'."

"You're a long way from there," said Scarlett, trying to smooth

back her untidy hair. Her face was damp and her body was already

wet with sweat. She felt dirty and messy and sticky, almost as if

she smelled bad. Her clothes were crushed and wrinkled from

sleeping in them and she had never felt more acutely tired and sore

In all her life. Muscles she did not know she possessed ached from

her unaccustomed exertions of the night before and every movement

brought sharp pain.

She looked down at Melanie and saw that her dark eyes were opened.

They were sick eyes, fever bright, and dark baggy circles were

beneath them. She opened cracking lips and whispered appealingly:

"Water."

"Get up, Prissy," ordered Scarlett. "We'll go to the well and get

some water."

"But, Miss Scarlett! Dey mout be hants up dar. Sposin' somebody

daid up dar?"

"I'll make a hant out of you if you don't get out of this wagon,"

said Scarlett, who was in no mood for argument, as she climbed

lamely down to the ground.

And then she thought of the horse. Name of God! Suppose the horse

had died in the night! He had seemed ready to die when she

unharnessed him. She ran around the wagon and saw him lying on his

side. If he were dead, she would curse God and die too. Somebody

In the Bible had done just that thing. Cursed God and died. She

knew just how that person felt. But the horse was alive--breathing

heavily, sick eyes half closed, but alive. Well, some water would

help him too.

Prissy climbed reluctantly from the wagon with many groans and

timorously followed Scarlett up the avenue. Behind the ruins the

row of whitewashed slave quarters stood silent and deserted under

the overhanging trees. Between the quarters and the smoked stone

foundations, they found the well, and the roof of it still stood

with the bucket far down the well. Between them, they wound up the

rope, and when the bucket of cool sparkling water appeared out of

the dark depths, Scarlett tilted it to her lips and drank with loud

sucking noises, spilling the water all over herself.

She drank until Prissy's petulant: "Well, Ah's thusty, too, Miss

Scarlett," made her recall the needs of the others.

"Untie the knot and take the bucket to the wagon and give them

some. And give the rest to the horse. Don't you think Miss

Melanie ought to nurse the baby? He'll starve."

"Law, Miss Scarlett, Miss Melly ain' got no milk--ain' gwine have

none."

"How do you know?"

"Ah's seed too many lak her."

"Don't go putting on any airs with me. A precious little you knew

about babies yesterday. Hurry now. I'm going to try to find

something to eat."

Scarlett's search was futile until in the orchard she found a few

apples. Soldiers had been there before her and there was none on

the trees. Those she found on the ground were mostly rotten. She

filled her skirt with the best of them and came back across the

soft earth, collecting small pebbles in her slippers. Why hadn't

she thought of putting on stouter shoes last night? Why hadn't she

brought her sun hat? Why hadn't she brought something to eat?

She'd acted like a fool. But, of course, she'd thought Rhett would

take care of them.

Rhett! She spat on the ground, for the very name tasted bad. How

she hated him! How contemptible he had been! And she had stood

there in the road and let him kiss her--and almost liked it. She

had been crazy last night. How despicable he was!

When she came back, she divided up the apples and threw the rest

into the back of the wagon. The horse was on his feet now but the

water did not seem to have refreshed him much. He looked far worse

in the daylight than he had the night before. His hip bones stood

out like an old cow's, his ribs showed like a washboard and his

back was a mass of sores. She shrank from touching him as she

harnessed him. When she slipped the bit into his mouth, she saw

that he was practically toothless. As old as the hills! While

Rhett was stealing a horse, why couldn't he have stolen a good one?

She mounted the seat and brought down the hickory limb on his back.

He wheezed and started, but he walked so slowly as she turned him

into the road she knew she could walk faster herself with no effort

whatever. Oh, if only she didn't have Melanie and Wade and the

baby and Prissy to bother with! How swiftly she could walk home!

Why, she would run home, run every step of the way that would bring

her closer to Tara and to Mother.

They couldn't be more than fifteen miles from home, but at the rate

this old nag traveled it would take all day, for she would have to

stop frequently to rest him. All day! She looked down the glaring

red road, cut in deep ruts where cannon wheels and ambulances had

gone over it. It would be hours before she knew if Tara still

stood and if Ellen were there. It would be hours before she

finished her journey under the broiling September sun.

She looked back at Melanie who lay with sick eyes closed against

the sun and jerked loose the strings of her bonnet and tossed it to

Prissy.

"Put that over her face. It'll keep the sun out of her eyes."

Then as the heat beat down upon her unprotected head, she thought:

"I'll be as freckled as a guinea egg before this day is over."

She had never in her life been out in the sunshine without a hat or