India snapped down the last shade and started on flying feet for

the bedroom, with Scarlett close behind her, her heart in her

throat. Rhett's big body barred the doorway but, past his

shoulder, Scarlett saw Ashley lying white and still on the bed.

Melanie, strangely quick for one so recently in a faint, was

rapidly cutting off his blood-soaked shirt with embroidery

scissors. Archie held the lamp low over the bed to give light and

one of his gnarled fingers was on Ashley's wrist.

"Is he dead?" cried both girls together.

"No, just fainted from loss of blood. It's through his shoulder,"

said Rhett.

"Why did you bring him here, you fool?" cried India. "Let me get

to him! Let me pass! Why did you bring him here to be arrested?"

"He was too weak to travel. There was nowhere else to bring him,

Miss Wilkes. Besides--do you want him to be an exile like Tony

Fontaine? Do you want a dozen of your neighbors to live in Texas

under assumed names for the rest of their lives? There's a chance

that we may get them all off if Belle--"

"Let me pass!"

"No, Miss Wilkes. There's work for you. You must go for a doctor--

Not Dr. Meade. He's implicated in this and is probably explaining

to the Yankees at this very minute. Get some other doctor. Are you

afraid to go out alone at night?"

"No," said India, her pale eyes glittering. "I'm not afraid." She

caught up Melanie's hooded cape which was hanging on a hook in the

hall. "I'll go for old Dr. Dean." The excitement went out of her

voice as, with an effort, she forced calmness. "I'm sorry I called

you a spy and a fool. I did not understand. I'm deeply grateful

for what you've done for Ashley--but I despise you just the same."

"I appreciate frankness--and I thank you for it." Rhett bowed and

his lip curled down in an amused smile. "Now, go quickly and by

back ways and when you return do not come in this house if you see

signs of soldiers about."

India shot one more quick anguished look at Ashley, and, wrapping

her cape about her, ran lightly down the hall to the back door and

let herself out quietly into the night.

Scarlett, straining her eyes past Rhett, felt her heart beat again

as she saw Ashley's eyes open. Melanie snatched a folded towel

from the washstand rack and pressed it against his streaming

shoulder and he smiled up weakly, reassuringly into her face.

Scarlett felt Rhett's hard penetrating eyes upon her, knew that her

heart was plain upon her face, but she did not care. Ashley was

bleeding, perhaps dying and she who loved him had torn that hole

through his shoulder. She wanted to run to the bed, sink down

beside it and clasp him to her but her knees trembled so that she

could not enter the room. Hand at her mouth, she stared while

Melanie packed a fresh towel against his shoulder, pressing it hard

as though she could force back the blood into his body. But the

towel reddened as though by magic.

How could a man bleed so much and still live? But, thank God,

there was no bubble of blood at his lips--oh, those frothy red

bubbles, forerunners of death that she knew so well from the

dreadful day of the battle at Peachtree Creek when the wounded had

died on Aunt Pitty's lawn with bloody mouths.

"Brace up," said Rhett, and there was a hard, faintly jeering note