She lay back against the pillar in silence and Prissy, aware of her mood, tiptoed away into the darkness of the porch.
After a long interval in which her breathing finally quieted and her mind steadied, Scarlett heard the sound of faint voices from up the road, the tramping of many feet coming from the north.
Soldiers!
She sat up slowly, pulling down her skirts, although she knew no one could see her in the darkness.
As they came abreast the house, an indeterminate number, passing like shadows, she called to them. “Oh, please!”
A shadow disengaged itself from the mass and came to the gate.
“Are you going?
Are you leaving us?”
The shadow seemed to take off a hat and a quiet voice came from the darkness.
“Yes, Ma’m. That’s what we’re doing.
We’re the last of the men from the breastworks, ’bout a mile north from here.”
“Are you—is the army really retreating?”
“Yes, Ma’m. You see, the Yankees are coming.”
The Yankees are coming!
She had forgotten that.
Her throat suddenly contracted and she could say nothing more.
The shadow moved away, merged itself with the other shadows and the feet tramped off into the darkness.
“The Yankees are coming!
The Yankees are coming!” That was what the rhythm of their feet said, that was what her suddenly bumping heart thudded out with each beat.
The Yankees are coming!
“De Yankees is comin'!” bawled Prissy, shrinking close to her.
“Oh, Miss Scarlett, dey’ll kill us all!
Dey’ll run dey baynits in our stummicks!
Dey’ll—”
“Oh, hush!”
It was terrifying enough to think these things without hearing them put into trembling words.
Renewed fear swept her.
What could she do?
How could she escape?
Where could she turn for help?
Every friend had failed her.
Suddenly she thought of Rhett Butler and calm dispelled her fears.
Why hadn’t she thought of him this morning when she had been tearing about like a chicken with its head off?
She hated him, but he was strong and smart and he wasn’t afraid of the Yankees.
And he was still in town.
Of course, she was mad at him. But she could overlook such things at a time like this.
And he had a horse and carriage, too.
Oh, why hadn’t she thought of him before!
He could take them all away from this doomed place, away from the Yankees, somewhere, anywhere.
She turned to Prissy and spoke with feverish urgency.
“You know where Captain Butler lives—at the Atlanta Hotel?”
“Yas’m, but—”
“Well, go there, now, as quick as you can run and tell him I want him.
I want him to come quickly and bring his horse and carriage or an ambulance if he can get one.
Tell him about the baby.
Tell him I want him to take us out of here.
Go, now.
Hurry!”
She sat upright and gave Prissy a push to speed her feet.
“Gawdlmighty, Miss Scarlett!