"They turned loose the convicts on us!"
"Now, Miss Scarlett, don't you get upset. They're a long way off from here, and
furthermore they're making good soldiers. I guess being a thief don't keep a man from being a good soldier, does it?"
"I think it's wonderful," said Melanie softly.
"Well, I don't," said Scarlett flatly. "There's thieves enough running around the country anyway, what with the Yankees and--"She caught herself in time but the men laughed.
"What with Yankees and our commissary department," they finished and she flushed.
"But where's General Hood's army?" interposed Melanie hastily. "Surely he could have held Savannah."
"Why, Miss Melanie," Frank was startled and reproachful, "General Hood hasn't been down in that section at all. He's been fighting up in Tennessee, trying to draw the Yankees out of Georgia."
"And didn't his little scheme work well!" cried Scarlett sarcastically. "He left the damn Yankees to go through us with nothing but schoolboys and convicts and Home Guards to protect us."
"Daughter," said Gerald rousing himself, "you are profane. Your mother will be grieved."
"They are damn Yankees!" cried Scarlett passionately. "And I never expect to call them anything else."
At the mention of Ellen everyone felt queer and conversation suddenly ceased. Melanie
again interposed.
"When you were in Macon did you see India and Honey Wilkes? Did they--had they
heard anything of Ashley?"
"Now, Miss Melly, you know if I'd had news of Ashley, I'd have ridden up here from
Macon right away to tell you," said Frank reproachfully. "No, they didn't have any news but--
now, don't you fret about Ashley, Miss Melly. I know it's been a long time since you heard from him, but you can't expect to hear from a fellow when he's in prison, can you? And things aren't as bad in Yankee prisons as they are in ours. After all, the Yankees have plenty to eat and enough
medicines and blankets. They aren't like we are--not having enough to feed ourselves, much less our prisoners."
"Oh, the Yankees have got plenty," cried Melanie, passionately bitter. "But they don't give things to the prisoners. You know they don't, Mr. Kennedy. You are just saying that to make me feel better. You know that our boys freeze to death up there and starve too and die without doctors and medicine, simply because the Yankees hate us so much! Oh, if we could just wipe every Yankee off the face of the earth! Oh, I know that Ashley is--"
"Don't say it!" cried Scarlett, her heart in her throat. As long as no one said Ashley was dead, there persisted in her heart a faint hope that he lived, but she felt that if she heard the words pronounced, in that moment he would die.
"Now, Mrs. Wilkes, don't you bother about your husband," said the one-eyed man
soothingly. "I was captured after first Manassas and exchanged later and when I was in prison, they fed me off the fat of the land, fried chicken and hot biscuits--"
"I think you are a liar," said Melanie with a faint smile and the first sign of spirit Scarlett had ever seen her display with a man. "What do you think?"
"I think so too," said the one-eyed man and slapped his leg with a laugh.
"If you'll all come into the parlor, I'll sing you some Christmas carols," said Melanie, glad to change the subject. "The piano was one thing the Yankees couldn't carry away. Is it terribly out of tune, Suellen?"
"Dreadfully," answered Suellen, happily beckoning with a smile to Frank.
But as they all passed from the room, Frank hung back, tugging at Scarlett's sleeve.
"May I speak to you alone?"
For an awful moment she feared he was going to ask about her livestock and she braced
herself for a good lie.
When the room was cleared and they stood by the fire, all the false cheerfulness which
had colored Frank's face in front of the others passed and she saw that he looked like an old man.
His face was as dried and brown as the leaves that were blowing about the lawn of Tara and his ginger-colored whiskers were thin and scraggly and streaked with gray. He clawed at them
absently and cleared his throat in an annoying way before he spoke.
"I'm mighty sorry about your ma, Miss Scarlett."
"Please don't talk about it."
"And your pa--Has he been this way since--?"
"Yes--he's--he's not himself, as you can see."
"He sure set a store by her."