Читать книгу Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Уровень 3 - Маргарет Митчелл - Страница 13

The Yankees under General Sherman were in Georgia again, above Dalton, one hundred miles northwest of Atlanta. An army of refugees fell back before them. Rich and poor, black and white, women and children, the old, the dying, the crippled, the wounded, the women in pregnancy, crowded the road to Atlanta on trains, afoot, on horseback, in carriages and wagons.

The wounded flooded Atlanta and the town was appalled. The hospitals overflowed and wounded lay on the floors of empty stores and in the warehouses. Every hotel, boarding house and private residence was crowded with sufferers. There was endless cooking and lifting and turning and fanning, endless hours of washing and rerolling bandages and picking lint.

On the day when the first wounded from Kennesaw Mountain were coming in, Scarlett silently cursed the wounded and the whole Southern Confederacy. She was sick of all this nursing. This very day she will tell Mrs. Merriwether that Ellen had written her to come home for a visit.

But that worthy matron said:

«Don’t let me hear any more such foolishness, Scarlett Hamilton. I’ll write your mother today and tell her how much we need you, and I’m sure she’ll understand and let you stay. Now, put on your apron and trot over to Dr. Meade. He needs someone to help with the dressings».

«Oh, God», thought Scarlett drearily, «that’s just the trouble. I shall die if I smell these stinks

She went hastily up the two short blocks to Peachtree Street. She was standing on the corner, ashamed to go home to Aunt Pitty’s but determined not to go back to the hospital, when Rhett Butler drove by.

«You look like the ragpicker’s child», he observed. Why was he so rude?

«Drive me somewhere where nobody will see me. I won’t go back to the hospital!»

«A traitor to Our Glorious Cause!»

He was well dressed. His coat and trousers were new, not ragged. His brown face was bland.

«You little fraud», he said. «You dance all night with the soldiers and give them roses and ribbons and tell them how you’d die for the Cause, and after that you decamp hastily».

«I’m just sick and tired of that old hospital», she said. «And every day more and more wounded come in. It’s all General Johnston’s fault».

«My dear, I wear no uniform and wave no sword and the fortunes of the Confederacy mean nothing at all to me».

«Rhett, look, down the street! That crowd of men! They aren’t soldiers. Why, they’re darkies!»

There was a great cloud of red dust coming up the street and from the cloud came the sound of a hundred or more negro voices. Scarlett looked curiously at the black men, picks and shovels over their shoulders. Then her eyes saw Big Sam, the foreman of Tara! But what was Big Sam doing here, so far away from home?

The giant caught sight of her and his black face split in a grin of delighted recognition. He halted, dropped his shovel and started toward her: «Oh God! It’s Miss Scarlett! Elijah, Apostle, Prophet, it’s Miss Scarlett!»

There was confusion in the ranks. The crowd halted, and Big Sam, followed by three other large negroes, ran across the road to the carriage. An officer shouted,

«Get back in line, you fellows! Get back, I tell you! Why it’s Mrs. Hamilton. Good morning, Ma’m, and you, too, sir».

«Oh, Captain Randall, don’t scold them! They are our people. This is Big Sam our foreman, and Elijah and Apostle and Prophet from Tara. How are you, boys? What are you boys doing so far from Tara?»

«They came and took us», answered Big Sam. «Because we are the biggest and the strongest men at Tara». His white teeth showed proudly.

«Oh, turn the horse around. I’m going home, back home to Tara, right away. You know the Yankees will never get to Atlanta».

«I’ll bet you they will be here within the month. I’ll bet you a box of bonbons against a kiss».

«I’d better kiss a pig», she said coolly. «Captain Butler, I wish to go back to the hospital».

«Do you indeed, my angel?»

He turned the horse’s head and they started back toward Five Points.

«I’m waiting», he said, «when you grow up a little more. I don’t like to kiss children. The memory of the estimable Ashley Wilkes is going to fade».

At the mention of Ashley’s name, sudden pain went through her, sudden hot tears stung her lids. Fade? The memory of Ashley will never fade. She was too angry to speak and they rode along in silence for some while.

«I understand practically everything about you and Ashley, now», Rhett resumed. «You still cherish a romantic schoolgirl passion for him. And Mrs. Wilkes knows nothing».

«Go to hell!» she said tensely. «And let me out of this carriage. I don’t want to speak to you».

He stopped the carriage. She sprang down.