between he raised the curtain on a scene of new horror, a curtain that she felt hopelessly would never be lowered again.
That stormy night when the knocker hammered on the door with such hurried urgency,
she stood on the landing, clutching her wrapper to her and, looking down into the hall below, had one glimpse of Tony's swarthy saturnine face before he leaned forward and blew out the candle in Frank's hand. She hurried down in the darkness to grasp his cold wet hand and hear him whisper:
"They're after me--going to Texas--my horse is about dead--and I'm about starved. Ashley said you'd--Don't light the candle! Don't wake the darkies… I don't want to get you folks in trouble if I can help it."
With the kitchen blinds drawn and all the shades pulled down to the sills, he permitted a light and he talked to Frank in swift jerky sentences as Scarlett hurried about, trying to scrape together a meal for him.
He was without a greatcoat and soaked to the skin. He was hatless and his black hair was
plastered to his little skin. But the merriment of the Fontaine boys, a chilling merriment that night, was in his little dancing eyes as he gulped down the whisky she brought him. Scarlett thanked God that Aunt Pittypat was snoring undisturbed upstairs. She would certainly swoon if she saw this apparition.
"One damned bast--Scalawag less," said Tony, holding out his glass for another drink.
"I've ridden hard and it'll cost me my skin if I don't get out of here quick, but it was worth it By God, yes! I'm going to try to get to Texas and lay low there. Ashley was with me in Jonesboro and he told me to come to you all. Got to have another horse, Frank, and some money. My horse is nearly dead--all the way up here at a dead run--and like a fool I went out of the house today like a bat out of hell without a coat or hat or a cent of money. Not that there's much money in our house."
He laughed and applied himself hungrily to the cold corn pone and cold turnip greens on
which congealed grease was thick in white flakes.
"You can have my horse," said Frank calmly. "I've only ten dollars with me but if you can wait till morning--"
"Hell's afire, I can't wait!" said Tony, emphatically but jovially. "They're probably right behind me. I didn't get much of a start. If it hadn't been for Ashley dragging me out of there and making me get on my horse, I'd have stayed there like a fool and probably had my neck stretched by now. Good fellow, Ashley."
So Ashley was mixed up in this frightening puzzle. Scarlett went cold, her hand at her
throat. Did the Yankees have Ashley now? Why, why didn't Frank ask what it was all about?
Why did he take it all so coolly, so much as a matter of course? She struggled to get the question to her lips.
"What--"she began. "Who--"
"Your father's old overseer--that damned--Jonas Wilkerson."
"Did you--is he dead?"
"My God, Scarlett O'Hara!" said Tony peevishly. "When I start out to cut somebody up, you don't think I'd be satisfied with scratching him with the blunt side of my knife, do you? No, by God, I cut him to ribbons."
"Good," said Frank casually. "I never liked the fellow."
Scarlett looked at him. This was not the meek Frank she knew, the nervous beard clawer
who she had learned could be bullied with such ease. There was an air about him that was crisp and cool and he was meeting the emergency with no unnecessary words. He was a man and Tony was a man and this situation of violence was men's business in which a woman had no part.
"But Ashley--Did he--"
"No. He wanted to kill him but I told him it was my right, because Sally is my sister-in-law, and he saw reason finally. He went into Jonesboro with me, in case Wilkerson got me first.
But I don't think old Ash will get in any trouble about it. I hope not. Got any jam for this corn pone? And can you wrap me up something to take with me?"
"I shall scream if you don't tell me everything."
"Wait till I've gone and then scream if you've got to. I'll tell you about it while Frank saddles the horse. That damned--Wilkerson has caused enough trouble already, know how he did you about your taxes. That's just one of his meannesses. But the worst thing was the way he kept the darkies stirred up. If anybody had told me I'd ever live to see the day when I'd hate darkies!
Damn their black souls, they believe anything those scoundrels tell them and forget every living thing we've done for them. Now the Yankees are talking about letting the darkies vote. And they won't let us vote. Why, there's hardly a handful of Democrats in the whole County who aren't barred from voting, now that they've ruled out every man who fought in the Confederate Army.