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I'll do it. Then it'll be good for something."

"'Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay,'" said Melanie with a

sad smile. "Don't do that, Scarlett. Keep it for Wade. He'll be

proud of it some day."

"Well, I don't know nothin' about imperious Caesar," said Will,

patiently, "but what I've got is in line with what you've just said

about Wade, Miss Melly. It's a poem, pasted on the back of this

bill. I know Miss Scarlett ain't much on poems but I thought this

might interest her."

He turned the bill over. On its back was pasted a strip of coarse

brown wrapping paper, inscribed in pale homemade ink. Will cleared

his throat and read slowly and with difficulty.

"The name is 'Lines on the Back of a Confederate Note,'" he said.

"Representing nothing on God's earth now

And naught in the waters below it--

As the pledge of nation that's passed away

Keep it, dear friend, and show it.

Show it to those who will lend an ear

To the tale this trifle will tell

Of Liberty, born of patriots' dream,

Of a storm-cradled nation that fell."

"Oh, how beautiful! How touching!" cried Melanie. "Scarlett, you

mustn't give the money to Mammy to paste in the attic. It's more

than paper--just like this poem said: 'The pledge of a nation

that's passed away!'"

"Oh, Melly, don't be sentimental! Paper is paper and we've got

little enough of it and I'm tired of hearing Mammy grumble about

the cracks in the attic. I hope when Wade grows up I'll have

plenty of greenbacks to give him instead of Confederate trash."

Will, who had been enticing little Beau across the blanket with the

bill during this argument, looked up and, shading his eyes, glanced

down the driveway.

"More company," he said, squinting in the sun. "Another soldier."

Scarlett followed his gaze and saw a familiar sight, a bearded man

coming slowly up the avenue under the cedars, a man clad in a

ragged mixture of blue and gray uniforms, head bowed tiredly, feet

dragging slowly.

"I thought we were about through with soldiers," she said. "I hope

this one isn't very hungry."

"He'll be hungry," said Will briefly.

Melanie rose.

"I'd better tell Dilcey to set an extra plate," she said, "and warn

Mammy not to get the poor thing's clothes off his back too abruptly

and--"

She stopped so suddenly that Scarlett turned to look at her.

Melanie's thin hand was at her throat, clutching it as if it was

torn with pain, and Scarlett could see the veins beneath the white

skin throbbing swiftly. Her face went whiter and her brown eyes

dilated enormously.

She's going to faint, thought Scarlett, leaping to her feet and

catching her arm.

But, in an instant, Melanie threw off her hand and was down the

steps. Down the graveled path she flew, skimming lightly as a

bird, her faded skirts streaming behind her, her arms outstretched.

Then, Scarlett knew the truth, with the impact of a blow. She

reeled back against an upright of the porch as the man lifted a

face covered with a dirty blond beard and stopped still, looking

toward the house as if he was too weary to take another step. Her

heart leaped and stopped and then began racing, as Melly with

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