Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Уровень 3. Маргарет Митчелл
Crowds stormed General Hood’s headquarters demanding information. But no news came. The telegraph wires were still, no trains came in on the one remaining railroad from the south and the mail service was broken.
And it was only four months since the Yankees moved south from Dalton. Only four months! Scarlett thought that it had occurred in another life. Oh, no! Surely not just four months. It had been a lifetime.
Four months ago! Four months ago Dalton, Resaca, Kennesaw Mountain had been to her only names of places on the railroad. Now they were battles. Peachtree Creek, Decatur, Ezra Church, Utoy Creek. Never names of places any more. Names of graves where friends lay buried, names of tangled underbrush and thick woods where bodies rotted unburied.
For a week Scarlett had not heard from Tara. Carreen was very, very sick. There was fighting at Jonesboro. No, the Yankees hadn’t gotten to Tara. The courier who brought the dispatches to General Hood assured Scarlett of that. He had met Gerald in Jonesboro after the battle, and Gerald had begged him to bring a letter to her.
But what was Pa doing in Jonesboro? Gerald was trying to find a doctor to go to Tara with him.
Scarlett opened Gerald’s letter with fingers that trembled.
«Dear Daughter,
Your mother and both girls have the typhoid. They are very ill but we must hope for the best. Under no condition don’t come home and expose yourself and Wade to the disease».
For the next week Scarlett crept about the house like a stricken animal, waiting for news. The mails were still disrupted, no one knew where the Confederates were or what the Yankees were doing.
Scarlett had seen enough typhoid in the Atlanta hospital to know what a week meant in that dread disease. Ellen was ill, perhaps dying, and here was Scarlett helpless in Atlanta with a pregnant woman on her hands. Ellen was ill… But Ellen can’t be ill! She had never been ill. The very thought was incredible. Everyone else got sick, but never Ellen. Ellen looked after sick people and made them well again. She couldn’t be sick. Scarlett wanted to be home. Home!
«Oh, damn Melanie!» she thought a thousand times. «Why didn’t she go to Macon with Aunt Pitty? I’m none of her blood. And I have to wait for her baby! Oh, Mother! Mother! Don’t die! Why doesn’t this baby come? Dear God! What if Melanie is dead? Melanie dead. And Ashley… No, I mustn’t think about that, it isn’t nice. But Ashley… No, I mustn’t think about that because he’s probably dead, anyway. What if Ashley is still alive? No, I mustn’t think about that. It’s sinful. I want to get away from here… get home… get anywhere».
Scarlett hated this ominously still town. Atlanta was no longer the place she had loved. It was a hideous place like a plaguestricken city so quiet, so dreadfully quiet after the din of the siege. There was only horror in the town. The town seemed haunted, haunted with fear and uncertainty and memories.
The last day of August came. Everyone knew now what the soldiers had known two weeks before. If the Macon railroad falls, Atlanta will fall too.
On the morning of the first of September, Scarlett awoke with a suffocating sense of dread upon her. She sat up hastily, rubbing her eyes.
As she stood, looking out of the window, there came to her ears a far-off sound.
«Rain», she thought in the first moment, «we certainly need it». But then: «Rain? No! Not rain! Cannon!»
Cannon to the south! And to the south lay Jonesboro and Tara and Ellen. Yankees perhaps at Tara, now, this minute! From the kitchen below, she heard the rattle of plates. Prissy was preparing and singing. Scarlett shouted: «Shut up that singing, Prissy!»
Scarlett walked to Melanie’s door and opened it, peering into the sunny room. Melanie lay in bed in her nightgown, her eyes closed, her slender body hideous and distorted. She looked worse than any pregnant woman she had ever seen. As she looked, Melanie’s eyes opened and a soft warm smile lit her face.
«Come in», she invited. «Scarlett, there’s something I want to ask you».
Scarlett entered the room and sat down on the bed. Melanie took Scarlett’s hand.
«Dear», she said, «I’m sorry about the cannon. It’s toward Jonesboro, isn’t it?»
Scarlett said «Um».
«I know how worried you are. I know you wanted to go home last week when you heard about your mother. But you stayed because of me?»
«Yes», said Scarlett ungraciously.
«Scarlett, darling. You’ve been so good to me. No sister can be sweeter or braver. And I love you for it. I’m so sorry. I bother you».
Scarlett stared. Loved her, did she? The fool!
«And Scarlett, I want to ask a very great favor of you. If I die, will you take my baby?»
Melanie’s eyes were wide and bright.
«Will you?»
Scarlett jerked away her hand as fear swamped her.
«Oh, don’t be a goose, Melly. You won’t die. Every woman thinks she’s going to die with her first baby. I know I did».
«No, you didn’t. You’ve never been afraid of anything. You are just saying that to try to cheer me up. I’m not afraid to die but I’m so afraid to leave the baby, if Ashley is… Scarlett, promise me that you’ll take my baby if I die. Then I won’t be afraid. Aunt Pittypat is too old to raise a child and Honey and India are sweet but… I want you to have my baby. Promise me, Scarlett».
«Damn it!» cried Scarlett. «Why do you talk about dying?»
«I’m sorry, dear. But promise me. I think it’ll be today. I’m sure it’ll be today. Please promise me».
«Oh, all right, I promise», said Scarlett, looking down at her in bewilderment.
Was Melanie such a fool she really didn’t know how she loved Ashley? Or did she know everything? Scarlett wanted to ask these questions, but they died on her lips as Melanie took her hand and held it for an instant against her cheek.
«Why do you think it will be today, Melly?»
«I have pains… but not very bad ones».
«You have? Well, why didn’t you call me? I’ll send Prissy for Dr. Meade».
«No, don’t do that yet, Scarlett. You know how busy he is, how busy they all are. Just send word to him that we’ll need him some time today. Send over to Mrs. Meade’s and tell her and ask her to come over and sit with me. She’ll know when to send for him».
«Oh, stop it. You know you need a doctor as much as anybody in the hospital. I’ll send for him right away».
«No, please don’t. Just send for Mrs. Meade. She’ll know».
«All right», said Scarlett.
Chapter XVI
Scarlett dispatched Prissy for Mrs. Meade and sat down with Wade to eat breakfast. But she had no appetite. Coffee was repulsive. Without sugar or cream it was bitter. After one swallow she pushed her cup away. She hated the Yankees because they kept her from real coffee with sugar and cream in it.
Wade was quieter than usual. He ate silently. When he had finished she sent him off to the back yard to play with great relief. She arose and stood irresolutely at the foot of the stairs. She should go up and sit with Melanie but she did not want it.
She sat down on the bottom step of the stairs and tried to compose herself. Why didn’t Mrs. Meade come? And where was Prissy?
She went out onto the front porch and looked for them impatiently. Finally Prissy came into view.
«You’re as slow as molasses in January», snapped Scarlett as Prissy opened the gate. «What did Mrs. Meade say? How soon will she be over here?»
«She wasn’t there», said Prissy.
«Where is she? When will she be home?»
«Well», answered