In a dreadful place like that!"

"Well--" began Rhett awkwardly, "as a matter of fact, he was at

Belle's tonight."

Melanie drew herself up coldly.

"You can never make me believe such a lie!"

"Please, Miss Melly! Let me explain! When I got out to the old

Sullivan place tonight, I found Mr. Wilkes wounded and with him

were Hugh Elsing and Dr. Meade and old man Merriwether--"

"Not the old gentleman!" cried Scarlett.

"Men are never too old to be fools. And your Uncle Henry--"

"Oh, mercy!" cried Aunt Pitty.

"The others had scattered after the brush with the troops and the

crowd that stuck together had come to the Sullivan place to hide

their robes in the chimney and to see how badly Mr. Wilkes was

hurt. But for his wound, they'd be headed for Texas by now--all of

them--but he couldn't ride far and they wouldn't leave him. It was

necessary to prove that they had been somewhere instead of where

they had been, and so I took them by back ways to Belle Watling's."

"Oh--I see. I do beg your pardon for my rudeness, Captain Butler.

I see now it was necessary to take them there but-- Oh, Captain

Butler, people must have seen you going in!"

"No one saw us. We went in through a private back entrance that

opens on the railroad tracks. It's always dark and locked."

"Then how--?"

"I have a key," said Rhett laconically, and his eyes met Melanie's

evenly.

As the full impact of the meaning smote her, Melanie became so

embarrassed that she fumbled with the bandage until it slid off the

wound entirely.

"I did not mean to pry--" she said in a muffled voice, her white

face reddening, as she hastily pressed the towel back into place.

"I regret having to tell a lady such a thing."

"Then it's true!" thought Scarlett with an odd pang. "Then he does

live with that dreadful Watling creature! He does own her house!"

"I saw Belle and explained to her. We gave her a list of the men

who were out tonight and she and her girls will testify that they

were all in her house tonight. Then to make our exit more

conspicuous, she called the two desperadoes who keep order at her

place and had us dragged downstairs, fighting, and through the

barroom and thrown out into the street as brawling drunks who were

disturbing the place."

He grinned reminiscently. "Dr. Meade did not make a very

convincing drunk. It hurt his dignity to even be in such a place.

But your Uncle Henry and old man Merriwether were excellent. The

stage lost two great actors when they did not take up the drama.

They seemed to enjoy the affair. I'm afraid your Uncle Henry has a

black eye due to Mr. Merriwether's zeal for his part. He--"

The back door swung open and India entered, followed by old Dr.

Dean, his long white hair tumbled, his worn leather bag bulging

under his cape. He nodded briefly but without words to those

present and quickly lifted the bandage from Ashley's shoulder.

"Too high for the lung," he said. "If it hasn't splintered his

collar bone it's not so serious. Get me plenty of towels, ladies,

and cotton if you have it, and some brandy."

Rhett took the lamp from Scarlett and set it on the table as

Melanie and India sped about, obeying the doctor's orders.

"You can't do anything here. Come into the parlor by the fire."

He took her arm and propelled her from the room. There was a

gentleness foreign to him in both hand and voice. "You've had a

rotten day, haven't you?"

She allowed herself to be led into the front room and though she

stood on the hearth rug in front of the fire she began to shiver.

The bubble of suspicion in her breast was swelling larger now. It

was more than a suspicion. It was almost a certainty and a

terrible certainty. She looked up into Rhett's immobile face and

for a moment she could not speak. Then:

"Was Frank at--Belle Watling's?"

"No."

Rhett's voice was blunt.

"Archie's carrying him to the vacant lot near Belle's. He's dead.

Shot through the head."

CHAPTER XLVI

Few families in the north end of town slept that night for the news

of the disaster to the Klan, and Rhett's stratagem spread swiftly

on silent feet as the shadowy form of India Wilkes slipped through

back yards, whispered urgently through kitchen doors and slipped

away into the windy darkness. And in her path, she left fear and

desperate hope.

From without, houses looked black and silent and wrapped in sleep

but, within, voices whispered vehemently into the dawn. Not only

those involved in the night's raid but every member of the Klan was

ready for flight and in almost every stable along Peachtree Street,

horses stood saddled in the darkness, pistols in holsters and food

in saddlebags. All that prevented a wholesale exodus was India's

whispered message: "Captain Butler says not to run. The roads

will be watched. He has arranged with that Watling creature--" In

dark rooms men whispered: "But why should I trust that damned

Scallawag Butler? It may be a trap!" And women's voices implored:

"Don't go! If he saved Ashley and Hugh, he may save everybody. If

India and Melanie trust him--" And they half trusted and stayed

because there was no other course open to them.

Earlier in the night, the soldiers had knocked at a dozen doors and

those who could not or would not tell where they had been that

night were marched off under arrest. Rene Picard and one of Mrs.

Merriwether's nephews and the Simmons boys and Andy Bonnell were

among those who spent the night in jail. They had been in the ill-

starred foray but had separated from the others after the shooting.

Riding hard for home they were arrested before they learned of

Rhett's plan. Fortunately they all replied, to questions, that

where they had been that night was their own business and not that

of any damned Yankees. They had been locked up for further

questioning in the morning. Old man Merriwether and Uncle Henry

Hamilton declared shamelessly that they had spent the evening at

Belle Watling's sporting house and when Captain Jaffery remarked