In it. It isn't as though he didn't have a horse of his own. He

just does it so he and Grandpa can go to the saloon together every

night."

As she came abreast the crowd something of their tenseness reached

her, insensitive though she was, and made fear clutch at her heart.

"Oh!" she thought. "I hope no one else has been raped! If the Ku

Klux lynch just one more darky the Yankees will wipe us out!" And

she spoke to Archie. "Pull up. Something's wrong."

"You ain't goin' to stop outside a saloon," said Archie.

"You heard me. Pull up. Good evening, everybody. Ashley--Uncle

Henry--is something wrong? You all look so--"

The crowd turned to her, tipping their hats and smiling, but there

was a driving excitement in their eyes.

"Something's right and something's wrong," barked Uncle Henry.

"Depends on how you look at it. The way I figure is the

legislature couldn't have done different."

The legislature? thought Scarlett in relief. She had little

Interest in the legislature, feeling that its doings could hardly

affect her. It was the prospect of the Yankee soldiers on a

rampage again that frightened her.

"What's the legislature been up to now?"

"They've flatly refused to ratify the amendment," said Grandpa

Merriwether and there was pride in his voice. "That'll show the

Yankees."

"And there'll be hell to pay for it--I beg your pardon, Scarlett,"

said Ashley.

"Oh, the amendment?" questioned Scarlett, trying to look intelligent.

Politics were beyond her and she seldom wasted time thinking about

them. There had been a Thirteenth Amendment ratified sometime

before or maybe it had been the Sixteenth Amendment but what

ratification meant she had no idea. Men were always getting

excited about such things. Something of her lack of comprehension

showed in her face and Ashley smiled.

"It's the amendment letting the darkies vote, you know," he

explained. "It was submitted to the legislature and they refused

to ratify it."

"How silly of them! You know the Yankees are going to force it

down our throats!"

"That's what I meant by saying there'd be hell to pay," said

Ashley.

"I'm proud of the legislature, proud of their gumption!" shouted

Uncle Henry. "The Yankees can't force it down our throats if we

won't have it."

"They can and they will." Ashley's voice was calm but there was

worry in his eyes. "And it'll make things just that much harder

for us."

"Oh, Ashley, surely not! Things couldn't be any harder than they

are now!"

"Yes, things can get worse, even worse than they are now. Suppose

we have a darky legislature? A darky governor? Suppose we have a

worse military rule than we now have?"

Scarlett's eyes grew large with fear as some understanding entered

her mind.

"I've been trying to think what would be best for Georgia, best for

all of us." Ashley's face was drawn. "Whether it's wisest to

fight this thing like the legislature has done, rouse the North

against us and bring the whole Yankee Army on us to cram the darky

vote down us, whether we want it or not. Or--swallow our pride as

best we can, submit gracefully and get the whole matter over with

as easily as possible. It will amount to the same thing in the

end. We're helpless. We've got to take the dose they're

determined to give us. Maybe it would be better for us to take it

without kicking."

Scarlett hardly heard his words, certainly their full import went

over her head. She knew that Ashley, as usual, was seeing both

sides of a question. She was seeing only one side--how this slap

in the Yankees' faces might affect her.

"Going to turn Radical and vote the Republican ticket, Ashley?"

jeered Grandpa Merriwether harshly.

There was a tense silence. Scarlett saw Archie's hand make a swift

move toward his pistol and then stop. Archie thought, and

frequently said, that Grandpa was an old bag of wind and Archie had

no intention of letting him insult Miss Melanie's husband, even if

Miss Melanie's husband was talking like a fool.

The perplexity vanished suddenly from Ashley's eyes and hot anger

flared. But before he could speak, Uncle Henry charged Grandpa.

"You God--you blast--I beg your pardon, Scarlett--Grandpa, you

jackass, don't you say that to Ashley!"

"Ashley can take care of himself without you defending him," said

Grandpa coldly. "And he is talking like a Scallawag. Submit,

hell! I beg your pardon, Scarlett."

"I didn't believe in secession," said Ashley and his voice shook

with anger. "But when Georgia seceded, I went with her. And I

didn't believe in war but I fought in the war. And I don't believe

in making the Yankees madder than they already are. But if the

legislature has decided to do it, I'll stand by the legislature.

I--"

"Archie," said Uncle Henry abruptly, "drive Miss Scarlett on home.

This isn't any place for her. Politics aren't for women folks

anyway, and there's going to be cussing in a minute. Go on,

Archie. Good night, Scarlett."

As they drove off down Peachtree Street, Scarlett's heart was

beating fast with fear. Would this foolish action of the

legislature have any effect on her safety? Would it so enrage the

Yankees that she might lose her mills?

"Well, sir," rumbled Archie, "I've hearn tell of rabbits spittin'

in bulldogs' faces but I ain't never seen it till now. Them

legislatures might just as well have hollered 'Hurray for Jeff

Davis and the Southern Confederacy' for all the good it'll do them--

and us. Them nigger-lovin' Yankees have made up their mind to

make the niggers our bosses. But you got to admire them

legislatures' sperrit!"

"Admire them? Great balls of fire! Admire them? They ought to be

shot! It'll bring the Yankees down on us like a duck on a June

bug. Why couldn't they have rati--radi--whatever they were

supposed to do to it and smoothed the Yankees down instead of

stirring them up again? They're going to make us knuckle under and

we may as well knuckle now as later."

Archie fixed her with a cold eye.

"Knuckle under without a fight? Women ain't got no more pride than

goats."

When Scarlett leased ten convicts, five for each of her mills,

Archie made good his threat and refused to have anything further to

do with her. Not all Melanie's pleading or Frank's promises of

higher pay would induce him to take up the reins again. He

willingly escorted Melanie and Pitty and India and their friends

about the town but not Scarlett. He would not even drive for the

other ladies if Scarlett was in the carriage. It was an

embarrassing situation, having the old desperado sitting in

judgment upon her, and it was still more embarrassing to know that

her family and friends agreed with the old man.

Frank pleaded with her against taking the step. Ashley at first

refused to work convicts and was persuaded, against his will, only

after tears and supplications and promises that when times were

better she would hire free darkies. Neighbors were so outspoken in

their disapproval that Frank, Pitty and Melanie found it hard to

hold up their heads. Even Peter and Mammy declared that it was bad

luck to work convicts and no good would come of it. Everyone said

it was wrong to take advantage of the miseries and misfortunes of

others.

"You didn't have any objections to working slaves!" Scarlett cried

indignantly.

Ah, but that was different. Slaves were neither miserable nor

unfortunate. The negroes were far better off under slavery than

they were now under freedom, and if she didn't believe it, just

look about her! But, as usual, opposition had the effect of making

Scarlett more determined on her course. She removed Hugh from the

management of the mill, put him to driving a lumber wagon and

closed the final details of hiring Johnnie Gallegher.

He seemed to be the only person she knew who approved of the

convicts. He nodded his bullet head briefly and said it was a

smart move. Scarlett, looking at the little ex-jockey, planted

firmly on his short bowed legs, his gnomish face hard and

businesslike, thought: "Whoever let him ride their horses didn't

care much for horse flesh. I wouldn't let him get within ten feet

of any horse of mine."

But she had no qualms in trusting him with a convict gang.

"And I'm to have a free hand with the gang?" he questioned, his

eyes as cold as gray agates.

"A free hand. All I ask is that you keep that mill running and

deliver my lumber when I want it and as much as I want."

"I'm your man," said Johnnie shortly. "I'll tell Mr. Wellburn I'm

leaving him."

As he rolled off through the crowd of masons and carpenters and hod

carriers Scarlett felt relieved and her spirits rose. Johnnie was

indeed her man. He was tough and hard and there was no nonsense

about him. "Shanty Irish on the make," Frank had contemptuously

called him, but for that very reason Scarlett valued him. She knew

that an Irishman with a determination to get somewhere was a

valuable man to have, regardless of what his personal characteristics

might be. And she felt a closer kinship with him than with many men

of her own class, for Johnnie knew the value of money.

The first week he took over the mill he justified all her hopes,

for he accomplished more with five convicts than Hugh had ever done

with his crew of ten free negroes. More than that, he gave

Scarlett greater leisure than she had had since she came to Atlanta

the year before, because he had no liking for her presence at the

mill and said so frankly.

"You tend to your end of selling and let me tend to my end of

lumbering," he said shortly. "A convict camp ain't any place for a

lady and if nobody else'll tell you so, Johnnie Gallegher's telling

you now. I'm delivering your lumber, ain't I? Well, I've got no

notion to be pestered every day like Mr. Wilkes. He needs

pestering. I don't."

So Scarlett reluctantly stayed away from Johnnie's mill, fearing

that if she came too often he might quit and that would be ruinous.

His remark that Ashley needed pestering stung her, for there was

more truth in it than she liked to admit. Ashley was doing little

better with convicts than he had done with free labor, although

why, he was unable to tell. Moreover, he looked as if he were

ashamed to be working convicts and he had little to say to her

these days.

Scarlett was worried by the change that was coming over him. There

were gray hairs in his bright head now and a tired slump in his

shoulders. And he seldom smiled. He no longer looked the

debonaire Ashley who had caught her fancy so many years before. He

looked like a man secretly gnawed by a scarcely endurable pain and

there was a grim tight look about his mouth that baffled and hurt

her. She wanted to drag his head fiercely down on her shoulder,

stroke the graying hair and cry: "Tell me what's worrying you!

I'll fix it! I'll make it right for you!"

But his formal, remote air kept her at arm's length.

CHAPTER XLIII

It was one of those rare December days when the sun was almost as

warm as Indian summer. Dry red leaves still clung to the oak in

Aunt Pitty's yard and a faint yellow green still persisted in the

dying grass. Scarlett, with the baby in her arms, stepped out onto

the side porch and sat down in a rocking chair in a patch of

sunshine. She was wearing a new green challis dress trimmed with

yards and yards of black rickrack braid and a new lace house cap

which Aunt Pitty had made for her. Both were very becoming to her

and she knew it and took great pleasure in them. How good it was

to look pretty again after the long months of looking so dreadful!

As she sat rocking the baby and humming to herself, she heard the

sound of hooves coming up the side street and, peering curiously

through the tangle of dead vines on the porch, she saw Rhett Butler

riding toward the house.

He had been away from Atlanta for months, since just after Gerald

died, since long before Ella Lorena was born. She had missed him

but she now wished ardently that there was some way to avoid seeing

him. In fact, the sight of his dark face brought a feeling of

guilty panic to her breast. A matter in which Ashley was concerned

lay on her conscience and she did not wish to discuss it with

Rhett, but she knew he would force the discussion, no matter how

disinclined she might be.

He drew up at the gate and swung lightly to the ground and she

thought, staring nervously at him, that he looked just like an