飘

hack　of　theirs　that　the　Yankees　burned　and　Emmie’s　husband　had　got　it　through　Washington　for　them。
　“They　tell　me　that　when　Suellen　said　those　names；　your　pa　kind　of　straightened　up　and　squared　his　shoulders　and　looked　at　her；　sharp…like。　He　warn’t　vague　no　more　and　he　said：　‘Have　the　Slatterys　and　the　Macintoshes　signed　somethin’　like　this？’　and　Suellen　got　nervous　and　said　Yes　and　No　and　stuttered　and　he　shouted　right　loud：　Tell　me；　did　that　God…damned　Orangeman　and　that　God…damned　poor　white　sign　somethin’　like　this？’　And　that　feller　Hilton　spoke　up　smooth…like　and　said：　‘Yes　sir；　they　did　and　they　got　a　pile　of　money　like　you’ll　get。’
　“And　then　the　old　gentleman　let　out　a　roar　like　a　bull。　Alex　Fontaine　said　he　heard　him　from　down　the　street　at　the　saloon。　And　he　said　with　a　brogue　you　could　cut　with　a　butterknife：　‘And　were　ye　afther　thinkin’　an　O’Hara　of　Tara　would　be　follyin’　the　dirthy　thracks　of　a　God…damned　Orangeman　and　a　God…damned　poor　white？’　And　he　tore　the　paper　in　two　and　threw　it　in　Suellen’s　face　and　he　bellowed：　‘Ye’re　no　daughter　of　mine！’　and　he　was　out　of　the　office　before　you　could　say　Jack　Robinson。
　“Alex　said　he　saw　him　come　out　on　the　street；　chargin’　like　a　bull。　He　said　the　old　gentleman　looked　like　his　old　self　for　the　first　time　since　your　ma　died。　Said　he　was　reelin’　drunk　and　cussin’　at　the　top　of　his　lungs。　Alex　said　he　never　heard　such　fine　cussin’。　Alex’s　horse　was　standin’　there　and　your　pa　climbed　on　it　without　a　by…your…leave　and　off　he　went　in　a　cloud　of　dust　so　thick　it　choked　you；　cussin’　every　breath　he　drew。
　“Well；　about　sundown　Ashley　and　me　were　sittin’　on　the　front　step；　lookin’　down　the　road　and　‘mighty　worried。　Miss　Melly　was　upstairs　cryin’　on　her　bed　and　wouldn’t　tell　us　nothin’。　Terrectly；　we　heard　a　poundin’　down　the　road　and　somebody　yellin’　like　they　was　fox　huntin’　and　Ashley　said：　That’s　queer！　That　sounds　like　Mr。　O’Hara　when　he　used　to　ride　over　to　see　us　before　the　war。’
　“And　then　we　seen　him　way　down　at　the　end　of　the　pasture。　He　must　have　jumped　the　fence　right　over　there。　And　he　come　ridin’　hell…for…leather　up　the　hill；　singin’　at　the　top　of　his　voice　like　he　didn’t　have　a　care　in　the　world。　I　didn’t　know　your　pa　had　such　a　voice。　He　was　singin’　‘Peg　in　a　Low…backed　Car’　and　beatin’　the　horse　with　his　hat　and　the　horse　was　goin’　like　mad。　He　didn’t　draw　rein　when　he　come　near　the　top　and　we　seen　he　was　goin’　to　jump　the　pasture　fence　and　we　hopped　up；　scared　to　death；　and　then　he　yelled：　‘Look；　Ellen！　Watch　me　take　this　one！’　But　the　horse　stopped　right　on　his　haunches　at　the　fence　and　wouldn’t　take　the　jump　and　your　pa　went　right　over　his　head。　He　didn’t　suffer　none。　He　was　dead　time　we　got　to　him。　I　guess　it　broke　his　neck。”
　Will　waited　a　minute　for　her　to　speak　and　when　she　did　not　he　picked　up　the　reins。　“Giddap；　Sherman；”　he　said；　and　the　horse　started　on　toward　home。
　
　CHAPTER　XL
　SCARLETT　SLEPT　little　that　night。　When　the　dawn　had　come　and　the　sun　was　creeping　over　the　black　pines　on　the　hills　to　the　east；　she　rose　from　her　tumbled　bed　and；　seating　herself　on　a　stool　by　the　window；　laid　her　tired　head　on　her　arm　and　looked　out　over　the　barn　yard　and　orchard　of　Tara　toward　the　cotton　fields。　Everything　was　fresh　and　dewy　and　silent　and　green　and　the　sight　of　the　cotton　fields　brought　a　measure　of　balm　and　comfort　to　her　sore　heart。　Tara；　at　sunrise；　looked　loved；　well　tended　and　at　peace；　for　all　that　its　master　lay　dead。　The　squatty　log　chicken　house　was　clay　daubed　against　rats　weasels　and　clean　with　whitewash；　and　so　was　the　log　stable。　The　garden　with　its　rows　of　corn；　bright…yellow　squash；　butter　beans　and　turnips　was　well　weeded　and　neatly　fenced　with　split…oak　rails。　The　orchard　was　cleared　of　underbrush　and　only　daisies　grew　beneath　the　long　rows　of　trees。　The　sun　picked　out　with　faint　glistening　the　apples　and　the　furred　pink　peaches　half　hidden　in　the　green　leaves。　Beyond　lay　the　curving　rows　of　cotton；　still　and　green　under　the　gold　of　the　new　sky。　The　ducks　and　chickens　were　waddling　and　strutting　off　toward　the　fields；　for　under　the　bushes　in　the　soft　plowed　earth　were　found　the　choicest　worms　and　slugs。
　Scarlett’s　heart　swelled　with　affection　and　gratitude　to　Will　who　had　done　all　of　this。　Even　her　loyalty　to　Ashley　could　not　make　her　believe　he　had　been　responsible　for　much　of　this　well…being；　for　Tara’s　bloom　was　not　the　work　of　a　planter…aristocrat；　but　of　the　plodding；　tireless　“small　farmer”　who　loved　his　land。　It　was　a　“two…horse”　farm；　not　the　lordly　plantation　of　other　days　with　pastures　full　of　mules　and　fine　horses　and　cotton　and　corn　stretching　as　far　as　eye　could　see。　But　what　there　was　of　it　was　good　and　the　acres　that　were　lying　fallow　could　be　reclaimed　when　times　grew　better；　and　they　would　be　the　more　fertile　for　their　rest。
　Will　had　done　more　than　merely　farm　a　few　acres。　He　had　kept　sternly　at　bay　those　two　enemies　of　Georgia　planters；　the　seedling　pine　and　the　blackberry　brambles。　They　had　not　stealthily　taken　garden　and　pasture　and　cotton　field　and　lawn　and　reared　themselves　insolently　by　the　porches　of　Tara；　as　they　were　doing　on　numberless　plantations　throughout　the　state。
　Scarlett’s　heart　failed　a　beat　when　she　thought　how　close　Tara　had　come　to　going　back　to　wilderness。　Between　herself　and　Will；　they　had　done　a　good　job。　They　had　held　off　the　Yankees；　the　Carpetbaggers　and　the　encroachments　of　Nature。　And；　best　of　all；　Will　had　told　her　that　after　the　cotton　came　in　in　the　fall；　she　need　send　no　more　money—unless　some　other　Carpetbagger　coveted　Tara　and　skyrocketed　the　taxes。　Scarlett　knew　Will　would　have　a　hard　pull　without　her　help　but　she　admired　and　respected　his　independence。　As　long　as　he　was　in　the　position　of　hired　help　he　would　take　her　money；　but　now　that　he　was　to　become　her　brother…in…law　and　the　man　of　the　house；　he　intended　to　stand　on　his　own　efforts。　Yes；　Will　was　something　the　Lord　had　provided。
　
　Pork　had　dug　the　grave　the　night　before；　close　by　Ellen’s　grave；　and　he　stood；　spade　in　hand；　behind　the　moist　red　clay　he　was　soon　to　shovel　back　in　place。　Scarlett　stood　behind　him　in　the　patchy　shade　of　a　gnarled　low…limbed　cedar；　the　hot　sun　of　the　June　morning　dappling　her；　and　tried　to　keep　her　eyes　away　from　the　red　trench　in　front　of　her。　Jim　Tarleton；　little　Hugh　Munroe；　Alex　Fontaine　and　old　man　McRae’s　youngest　grandson　came　slowly　and　awkwardly　down　the　path　from　the　house　bearing　Gerald’s　coffin　on　two　lengths　of　split　oak。　Behind　them；　at　a　respectful　distance；　followed　a　large　straggling　crowd　of　neighbors　and　friends；　shabbily　dressed；　silent。　As　they　came　down　the　sunny　path　through　the　garden；　Pork　bowed　his　head　upon　the　top　of　the　spade　handle　and　cried；　and　Scarlett　saw　with　incurious　surprise　that　the　kinks　on　his　head；　so　jettily　black　when　she　went　to　Atlanta　a　few　months　before；　were　now　grizzled。
　She　thanked　God　tiredly　that　she　had　cried　all　her　tears　the　night　before；　so　now　she　could　stand　erect　and　dry　eyed。　The　sound　of　Suellen’s　tears；　put　back　of　her　shoulder；　irritated　her　unbearably　and　she　had　to　clench　her　fists　to　keep　from　turning　and　slapping　the　swollen　face。　Sue　had　been　the　cause　of　her　father’s　death；　whether　she　intended　it　or　not；　and　she　should　have　the　decency　to　control　herself　in　front　of　the　hostile　neighbors。　Not　a　single　person　had　spoken　to　her　that　morning　or　given　her　one　look　of　sympathy。　They　had　kissed　Scarlett　quietly；　shaken　her　hand；　murmured　kind　words　to　Carreen　and　even　to　Pork　but　had　looked　through　Suellen　as　if　she　were　not　there。
　To　them　she　had　done　worse　than　murder　her　father。　She　had　tried　to　betray　him　into　disloyalty　to　the　South。　And　to　that　grim　and　close…knit　community　it　was　as　if　she　had　tried　to　betray　the　honor　of　them　all。　She　had　broken　the　solid　front　the　County　presented　to　the　world。　By　her　attempt　to　get　money　from　the　Yankee　government　she　had　aligned　herself　with　Carpetbaggers　and　Scalawags；　more　hated　enemies　than　the　Yankee　soldiers　had　ever　been。　She；　a　member　of　an　old　and　staunchly　Confederate　family；　a　planter’s　family；　had　gone　over　to　the　enemy　and　by　so　doing　had　brought　shame　on　every　family　in　the　County。
　The　mourners　were　seething　with　indignation　and　downcast　with　sorrow；　especially　three　of　them—old　man　McRae；　who　had　been　Gerald’s　crony　since　he　came　to　the　up…country　from　Savannah　so　many　years　before；　Grandma　Fontaine　who　loved　him　because　he　was　Ellen’s　husband；　and　Mrs。　Tarleton　who　had　been　closer　to　him　than　to　any　of　her　neighbors　because；　as　she　often　said；　he　was　the　only　man　in　the　County　who　knew　a　stallion　from　a　gelding。
　The　sight　of　the　stormy　faces　of　these　three　in　the　dim　parlor　where　Gerald　lay　before　the　funeral　had　caused　Ashley　and　Will　some　uneasiness　and　they　had　retired　to　Ellen’s　office　for　a　consultation。
　“Some　of　them　are　goin’　to　say　somethin’　about　Suellen；”　said　Will　abruptly；　biting　his　straw　in　half。　They　think　they　got　just　cause　to　say　somethin’。　Maybe　they　have。　It　ain’t　for　me　to　say。　But；　Ashley；　whether　they’re　right　or　not；　we’ll　have　to　resent　it；　bein’　the　men　of　the　family；　and　then　there’ll　be　trouble。　Can’t　nobody　do　nothin’　with　old　m