"Oh," she cried aloud, in fright, and in her mind she clutched him close to her heart. She knew how Rhett felt. If Beau were dead, how could she put him away, alone with the wind and the rain and the darkness?
"Oh! Poor, poor Captain Butler!" she cried. "I'll go to him now, right away."
She sped back to the dining room, said a few soft words to Ashley and surprised her little boy by hugging him close to her and kissing his blond curls passionately.
She left the house without a hat, her dinner napkin still clutched in her hand, and the pace she set was hard for Mammy's old legs. Once in Scarlett's front hall, she bowed briefly to the gathering in the library, to the frightened Miss Pittypat, the stately old Mrs. Butler, Will and Suellen. She went up the stairs swiftly, with Mammy panting behind her. For a moment, she paused before Scarlett's closed door but Mammy hissed, "No'm, doan do dat."
Down the hall Melly went, more slowly now, and stopped in front of Rhett's room. She
stood irresolutely for a moment as though she longed to take flight. Then, bracing herself, like a small soldier going into battle, she knocked on the door and called softly: "Please let me in, Captain Butler. It's Mrs. Wilkes. I want to see Bonnie."
The door opened quickly and Mammy, shrinking back into the shadows of the hall, saw
Rhett huge and dark against the blazing background of candles. He was swaying on his feet and Mammy could smell the whisky on his breath. He looked down at Melly for a moment and then, taking her by the arm, he pulled her into the room and shut the door.
Mammy edged herself stealthily to a chair beside the door and sank into it wearily, her
shapeless body overflowing it. She sat still, weeping silently and praying. Now and then she
lifted the hem of her dress and wiped her eyes. Strain her ears as hard as she might, she could hear no words from the room, only a low broken humming sound.
After an interminable period, the door cracked open and Melly's face white and strained,
appeared.
"Bring me a pot of coffee, quickly, and some sandwiches."
When the devil drove, Mammy could be as swift as a lithe black sixteen-year-old and her
curiosity to get into Rhett's room made her work faster. But her hope turned to disappointment when Melly merely opened the door a crack and took the tray. For a long time Mammy strained her sharp ears but she could distinguish nothing except the clatter of silver on china, and the muffled soft tones of Melanie's voice. Then she heard the creaking of the bed as a heavy body fell upon it and, soon after, the sound of boots dropping to the floor. After an interval, Melanie appeared in the doorway but, strive though she might, Mammy could not see past her into the room. Melanie looked tired and there were tears glistening on her lashes but her face was serene again.
"Go tell Miss Scarlett that Captain Butler is quite willing for the funeral to take place tomorrow morning," she whispered.
"Bress Gawd!" ejaculated Mammy. "How on uth--"
"Don't talk so loud. He's going to sleep. And, Mammy, tell Miss Scarlett, too, that I'll be here all night and you bring me some coffee. Bring it here."
"Ter disyere room?"
"Yes, I promised Captain Butler that if he would go to sleep I would sit up by her all night. Now go tell Miss Scarlett, so she won't worry any more."
Mammy started off down the hall, her weight shaking the floor, her relieved heart singing
"Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" She paused thoughtfully outside of Scarlett's door, her mind in a ferment of thankfulness and curiosity.
"How Miss Melly done it beyon' me. De angels fight on her side, Ah specs. Ah'll tell Miss Scarlett de fune'l termorrer but Ah specs Ah better keep hid dat Miss Melly settin' up wid Lil Miss. Miss Scarlett ain' gwine lak dat a-tall."
CHAPTER LX
SOMETHING WAS WRONG with the world, a somber, frightening wrongness that pervaded
everything like a dark impenetrable mist, stealthily closing around Scarlett. This wrongness went even deeper than Bonnie's death, for now the first unbearable anguish was fading into resigned acceptance of her loss. Yet this eerie sense of disaster to come persisted, as though something black and hooded stood just at her shoulder, as though the ground beneath her feet might turn to quicksand as she trod upon it.
She had never before known this type of fear. All her life her feet had been firmly planted in common sense and the only things she had ever feared had been the things she could see, injury, hunger, poverty, loss of Ashley's love. Unanalytical she was trying to analyze now and with no success. She had lost her dearest child but she could stand that, somehow, as she had stood other crushing losses. She had her health, she had as much money as she could wish and