飘

　In　Aunt　Pitty’s　house；　the　three　women　looked　into　one　another’s　eyes　with　fear　they　could　not　conceal。　Ashley　was　in　Darcy’s　regiment。
　On　the　fifth　came　evil　tidings；　not　from　the　North　but　from　the　West。　Vicksburg　had　fallen；　fallen　after　a　long　and　bitter　siege；　and　practically　all　the　Mississippi　River；　from　St。　Louis　to　New　Orleans　was　in　the　hands　of　the　Yankees。　The　Confederacy　had　been　cut　in　two。　At　any　other　time；　the　news　of　this　disaster　would　have　brought　fear　and　lamentation　to　Atlanta。　But　now　they　could　give　little　thought　to　Vicksburg。　They　were　thinking　of　Lee　in　Pennsylvania；　forcing　battle。　Vicksburg’s　loss　would　be　no　catastrophe　if　Lee　won　in　the　East。　There　lay　Philadelphia；　New　York；　Washington。　Their　capture　would　paralyze　the　North　and　more　than　cancel　off　the　defeat　on　the　Mississippi。
　The　hours　dragged　by　and　the　black　shadow　of　calamity　brooded　over　the　town；　obscuring　the　hot　sun　until　people　looked　up　startled　into　the　sky　as　if　incredulous　that　it　was　clear　and　blue　instead　of　murky　and　heavy　with　scudding　clouds。　Everywhere；　women　gathered　in　knots；　huddled　in　groups　on　front　porches；　on　sidewalks；　even　in　the　middle　of　the　streets；　telling　each　other　that　no　news　is　good　news；　trying　to　comfort　each　other；　trying　to　present　a　brave　appearance。　But　hideous　rumors　that　Lee　was　killed；　the　battle　lost；　and　enormous　casualty　lists　coming　in；　fled　up　and　down　the　quiet　streets　like　darting　bats。　Though　they　tried　not　to　believe；　whole　neighborhoods；　swayed　by　panic；　rushed　to　town；　to　the　newspapers；　to　headquarters；　pleading　for　news；　any　news；　even　bad　news。
　Crowds　formed　at　the　depot；　hoping　for　news　from　incoming　trains；　at　the　telegraph　office；　in　front　of　the　harried　headquarters；　before　the　locked　doors　of　the　newspapers。　They　were　oddly　still　crowds；　crowds　that　quietly　grew　larger　and　larger。　There　was　no　talking。　Occasionally　an　old　man’s　treble　voice　begged　for　news；　and　instead　of　inciting　the　crowd　to　babbling　it　only　intensified　the　hush　as　they　heard　the　oft…repeated：　“Nothing　on　the　wires　yet　from　the　North　except　that　there’s　been　fighting。”　The　fringe　of　women　on　foot　and　in　carriages　grew　greater　and　greater；　and　the　heat　of　the　close…packed　bodies　and　dust　rising　from　restless　feet　were　suffocating。　The　women　did　not　speak；　but　their　pale　set　faces　pleaded　with　a　mute　eloquence　that　was　louder　than　wailing。
　There　was　hardly　a　house　in　town　that　had　not　sent　away　a　son；　a　brother；　a　father；　a　lover；　a　husband；　to　this　battle。　They　all　waited　to　hear　the　news　that　death　had　come　to　their　homes。　They　expected　death。　They　did　not　expect　defeat。　That　thought　they　dismissed。　Their　men　might　be　dying；　even　now；　on　the　sun…parched　grass　of　the　Pennsylvania　hills。　Even　now　the　Southern　ranks　might　be　falling　like　grain　before　a　hailstorm；　but　the　Cause　for　which　they　fought　could　never　fall。　They　might　be　dying　in　thousands　but；　like　the　fruit　of　the　dragon’s　teeth；　thousands　of　fresh　men　in　gray　and　butternut　with　the　Rebel　yell　on　their　lips　would　spring　up　from　the　earth　to　take　their　places。　Where　these　men　would　come　from；　no　one　knew。　They　only　knew；　as　surely　as　they　knew　there　was　a　just　and　jealous　God　in　Heaven；　that　Lee　was　miraculous　and　the　Army　of　Virginia　invincible。
　
　Scarlett；　Melanie　and　Miss　Pittypat　sat　in　front　of　the　Daily　Examiner　office　in　the　carriage　with　the　top　back；　sheltered　beneath　their　parasols。　Scarlett’s　hands　shook　so　that　her　parasol　wobbled　above　her　head；　Pitty　was　so　excited　her　nose　quivered　in　her　round　face　like　a　rabbit’s；　but　Melanie　sat　as　though　carved　of　stone；　her　dark　eyes　growing　larger　and　larger　as　time　went　by。　She　made　only　one　remark　in　two　hours；　as　she　took　a　vial　of　smelling　salts　from　her　reticule　and　handed　it　to　her　aunt；　the　only　time　she　had　ever　spoken　to　her；　in　her　whole　life；　with　anything　but　tenderest　affection。
　“Take　this；　Auntie；　and　use　it　if　you　feel　faint。　I　warn　you　if　you　do　faint　you’ll　just　have　to　faint　and　let　Uncle　Peter　take　you　home；　for　I’m　not　going　to　leave　this　place　till　I　hear　about—till　I　hear。　And　I’m　not　going　to　let　Scarlett　leave　me；　either。”
　Scarlett　had　no　intention　of　leaving；　no　intention　of　placing　herself　where　she　could　not　have　the　first　news　of　Ashley。　No；　even　if　Miss　Pitty　died；　she　wouldn’t　leave　this　spot。　Somewhere；　Ashley　was　fighting；　perhaps　dying；　and　the　newspaper　office　was　the　only　place　where　she　could　learn　the　truth。
　She　looked　about　the　crowd；　picking　out　friends　and　neighbors；　Mrs。　Meade　with　her　bonnet　askew　and　her　arm　though　that　of　fifteen…year…old　Phil；　the　Misses　McLure　trying　to　make　their　trembling　upper　lips　cover　their　buck　teeth；　Mrs。　Elsing；　erect　as　a　Spartan　mother；　betraying　her　inner　turmoil　only　by　the　straggling　gray　locks　that　hung　from　her　chignon；　and　Fanny　Elsing　white　as　a　ghost　（Surely　Fanny　wouldn’t　be　so　worried　about　her　brother　Hugh。　Had　she　a　real　beau　at　the　front　that　no　one　suspected？）　Mrs。　Merriwether　sat　in　her　carriage　patting　Maybelle’s　hand。　Maybelle　looked　so　very　pregnant　it　was　a　disgrace　for　her　to　be　out　in　public；　even　if　she　did　have　her　shawl　carefully　draped　over　her。　Why　should　she　be　so　worried？　Nobody　had　heard　that　the　Louisiana　troops　were　in　Pennsylvania。　Probably　her　hairy　little　Zouave　was　safe　in　Richmond　this　very　minute。
　There　was　a　movement　on　the　outskirts　of　the　crowd　and　those　on　foot　gave　way　as　Rhett　Butler　carefully　edged　his　horse　toward　Aunt　Pitty’s　carriage。　Scarlett　thought：　He’s　got　courage；　coming　here　at　this　time　when　it　wouldn’t　take　anything　to　make　this　mob　tear　him　to　pieces　because　he　isn’t　in　uniform。　As　he　came　nearer；　she　thought　she　might　be　the　first　to　rend　him。　How　dared　he　sit　there　on　that　fine　horse；　in　shining　boots　and　handsome　white　linen　suit　so　sleek　and　well　fed；　smoking　an　expensive　cigar；　when　Ashley　and　all　the　other　boys　were　fighting　the　Yankees；　barefooted；　sweltering　in　the　heat；　hungry；　their　bellies　rotten　with　disease？
　Bitter　looks　were　thrown　at　him　as　he　came　slowly　through　the　press。　Old　men　growled　in　their　beards；　and　Mrs。　Merriwether　who　feared　nothing　rose　slightly　in　her　carriage　and　said　clearly：　“Speculator！”　in　a　tone　that　made　the　word　the　foulest　and　most　venomous　of　epithets。　He　paid　no　heed　to　anyone　but　raised　his　hat　to　Melly　and　Aunt　Pitty　and；　riding　to　Scarlett’s　side；　leaned　down　and　whispered：　“Don’t　you　think　this　would　be　the　time　for　Dr。　Meade　to　give　us　his　familiar　speech　about　victory　perching　like　a　screaming　eagle　on　our　banners？”
　Her　nerves　taut　with　suspense；　she　turned　on　him　as　swiftly　as　an　angry　cat；　hot　words　bubbling　to　her　lips；　but　he　stopped　them　with　a　gesture。
　“I　came　to　tell　you　ladies；”　he　said　loudly；　“that　I　have　been　to　headquarters　and　the　first　casualty　lists　are　coming　in。”
　At　these　words　a　hum　rose　among　those　near　enough　to　hear　his　remark；　and　the　crowd　surged；　ready　to　turn　and　run　down　Whitehall　Street　toward　headquarters。
　“Don’t　go；”　he　called；　rising　in　his　saddle　and　holding　up　his　hand。　“The　lists　have　been　sent　to　both　newspapers　and　are　now　being　printed。　Stay　where　you　are！”
　“Oh；　Captain　Butler；”　cried　Melly；　turning　to　him　with　tears　in　her　eyes。　“How　kind　of　you　to　come　and　tell　us！　When　will　they　be　posted？”
　“They　should　be　out　any　minute；　Madam。　The　reports　have　been　in　the　offices　for　half　an　hour　now。　The　major　in　charge　didn’t　want　to　let　that　out　until　the　printing　was　done；　for　fear　the　crowd　would　wreck　the　offices　trying　to　get　news。　Ah！　Look！”
　The　side　window　of　the　newspaper　office　opened　and　a　hand　was　extended；　bearing　a　sheaf　of　long　narrow　galley　proofs；　smeared　with　fresh　ink　and　thick　with　names　closely　printed。　The　crowd　fought　for　them；　tearing　the　slips　in　half；　those　obtaining　them　trying　to　back　out　through　the　crowd　to　read；　those　behind　pushing　forward；　crying：　“Let　me　through！”
　“Hold　the　reins；”　said　Rhett　shortly；　swinging　to　the　ground　and　tossing　the　bridle　to　Uncle　Peter。　They　saw　his　heavy　shoulders　towering　above　the　crowd　as　he　went　through；　brutally　pushing　and　shoving。　In　a　while　he　was　back；　with　half　a　dozen　in　his　hands。　He　tossed　one　to　Melanie　and　distributed　the　others　among　the　ladies　in　the　nearest　carriages；　the　Misses　McLure；　Mrs。　Meade；　Mrs。　Merriwether；　Mrs。　Elsing。
　“Quick；　Melly；”　cried　Scarlett；　her　heart　in　her　throat；　exasperation　sweeping　her　as　she　saw　that　Melly’s　hands　were　shaking　so　that　it　was　impossible　for　her　to　read。
　“Take　it；”　whispered　Melly；　and　Scarlett　snatched　it　from　her。　The　Ws。　Where　were　the　Ws？　Oh；　there　they　were　at　the　bottom　and　all　smeared　up。　“White；”　she　read　and　her　voice　shook；　“Wilkens　。。。　Winn　。。。　Zebulon　。。。　Oh；　Melly；　he’s　not　on　it！　He’s　not　on　it！　Oh；　for　God’s　sake；　Auntie；　Melly；　pick　up　the　salts！　Hold　her　up；　Melly。”
　Melly；　weeping　openly　with　happiness；　steadied　Miss　Pitty’s　rolling　head　and　held　the　smelling　salts　under　her　nose。　Scarlett　braced　the　fat　old　lady　on　the　other　side；　her　heart　singing　with　joy。　Ashley　was　alive。　He　wasn’t　even　wounded。　How　good　God　was　to　pass　him　by！　How—
　She　heard　a　low　moan　and；　turning；　saw　Fanny　Elsing　lay　her　head　on　her　mother’s　bosom；　saw　the　casualty　li