飘（乱世佳人） 作者：玛格丽特.米切尔 Gone with the Wind 飘（乱世佳人） 作者：玛格丽特.米切尔 英文  中文  双语对照  双语交替 首页  目录  上一章   下一章

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CHAPTER XXXIX	第三十九章
THE TRAIN was very late and the long, deeply blue twilight of June was settling over the countryside when Scarlett alighted in Jonesboro. Yellow gleams of lamplight showed in the stores and houses which remained in the village, but they were few. Here and there were wide gaps between the buildings on the main street where dwellings had been shelled or burned. Ruined houses with shell holes in their roofs and half the walls torn away stared at her, silent and dark. A few saddle horses and mule teams were hitched outside the wooden awning of Bullard’s store. The dusty red road was empty and lifeless, and the only sounds in the village were a few whoops and drunken laughs that floated on the still twilight air from a saloon far down the street.	火车很晚才到达琼斯博罗。思嘉走下车来。六月的黄昏显得格外长，深蓝的暮色忆已经笼罩着大地。村子里剩下的仅有几家商店和几所住宅射出了黄色的灯光。大街上的建筑物，有的被炮弹打坏了，有的烧坏了，因此，房子与房子之间往往有很长的距离。破旧的房子呆呆地盯着她，黑黝黝的，一点声音也没有，房顶上有炮弹打的洞，半边墙也被炸掉了。
The depot had not been rebuilt since it was burned in the battle and in its place was only a wooden shelter, with no sides to keep out the weather. Scarlett walked under it and sat down on one of the empty kegs that were evidently put there for seats. She peered up and down the street for Will Benteen. Will should have been here to meet her. He should have known she would take the first tram possible after receiving his laconic message that Gerald was dead.	布拉德商店的木板棚旁边拴着几骑马，还有几头骡子。红土路上空无一人，死气沉沉。在宁静的暮色中，整个村子里只能听到马路那头一家酒吧里传出来的尖叫声和醉汉的欢笑声。
She had come so hurriedly that she had in her small carpetbag only a nightgown and a tooth brush, not even a change of underwear. She was uncomfortable in the tight black dress she had borrowed from Mrs. Meade, for she had had no time to get mourning clothes for herself. Mrs. Meade was thin now, and Scarlett’s pregnancy being advanced, the dress was doubly uncomfortable. Even in her sorrow at Gerald’s death, she did not forget the appearance she was making and she looked down at her body with distaste. Her figure was completely gone and her face and ankles were puffy. Heretofore she had not cared very much how she looked but now that she would see Ashley within the hour she cared greatly. Even in her heartbreak, she shrank from the thought of facing him when she was carrying another man’s child. She loved him and he loved her, and this unwanted child now seemed to her a proof of infidelity to that love. But much as she disliked having him see her with the slenderness gone from her waist and the lightness from her step, it was something she could not escape now.	车站在战争中烧毁了，还没有重建。现在这里只有一个木棚，周围就什么也没有，无法遮风挡雨。思嘉在棚子下面走了一会儿，在一只空木桶上坐下，那几只空木桶放在那里，看来是让人坐的。她沿着马路张望，看威尔·本廷来了没有。
She patted her foot impatiently. Will should have met her. Of course, she could go over to Bullard’s and inquire after him or ask someone there to drive her over to Tara, should she find he had been unable to come. But she did not want to go to Bullard’s. It was Saturday night and probably half the men of the County would be there. She did not want to display her condition in this poorly fitting black dress which accentuated rather than hid her figure. And she did not want to hear the kindly sympathy that would be poured out about Gerald. She did not want sympathy. She was afraid she would cry if anyone even mentioned his name to her. And she wouldn’t cry. She knew if she once began it would be like the time she cried into the horse’s mane, that dreadful night when Atlanta fell and Rhett had left her on the dark road outside the town, terrible tears that tore her heart and could not be stopped.	威尔本应到这里来接她。他应该知道：收到他那封简短的信，得知父亲杰拉尔德去世的消息，她肯定会乘最早的一班火车赶来的。
No, she wouldn’t cry! She felt the lump in her throat rising again, as it had done so often since the news came, but crying wouldn’t do any good. It would only confuse and weaken her. Why, oh, why hadn’t Will or Melanie or the girls written her that Gerald was ailing? She would have taken the first train to Tara to care for him, brought a doctor from Atlanta if necessary. The fools—all of them! Couldn’t they manage anything without her? She couldn’t be in two places at once and the good Lord knew she was doing her best for them all in Atlanta.	她走得十分仓促，小旅行包里只有一件睡衣，一把牙刷，连换洗的内衣也没有带。她没有时间去买丧服，问米德太太借了一件黑色连衣裙，但是太瘦，她穿着很不舒服。米德太太现在很瘦，而思嘉已怀孕很久，穿着这件衣服，觉得特别不舒服。她虽然为父亲去世感到悲伤，但也并没有忘记自己是个什么样子，她低头看了看自己的身子，觉得很难看。身段已经根本没有了，脸和脚腕子也都肿了。在此以前，对于自己是个什么样子，她并不在乎，可是现在，她立刻就要见到艾希礼了，就十分在意了。她虽然处于悲痛之中，然而一想到和他见面，而她怀的又是另外一个男人的孩子，就感到不寒而栗。她是爱他的，他也爱她，此时此刻她意识到这个不受欢迎的孩子仿佛成了她忠于爱情的罪证。她那苗条的腰身和轻盈的脚步都已消失，无论她多么不希望他看到这一点，她现在也完全无法回避了。
She twisted about on the keg, becoming nervous and fidgety as Will still did not come. Where was he? Then she heard the scrunching of cinders on the railroad tracks behind her and, twisting her body, she saw Alex Fontaine crossing the tracks toward a wagon, a sack of oats on his shoulder.	她烦躁不已地跺起脚来。威尔应该来接她呀。她当然可以到布拉德商店去询问一下他的情况，要是知道他不会来，她也可以找个人赶车，把她送到塔拉去。但是她不乐意到布拉德商店去。因为那是星期六晚上，可能区里有一半男人都在那里。她不愿意让人家看见她这副样子，因为这件不合身的黑衣裳不但不能遮掩她难看的体形，反而使之更加突出了。另外，她也不想听人们出于好意，对她父亲之死没完没了地说些表示同情的话。她不需要同情。她怕一听到有人提他的名字，她就会哭起来。她并不想哭。她知道，一哭起来就控制不祝上次，在那可怕的黑夜里，亚特兰大陷落，瑞德把她扔在城外黑漆漆的路上，她抱着马的脖子痛哭，悲痛欲绝，怎么也抑制不祝她确实不想哭。她的喉咙又感到一阵哽咽，自从噩耗传来，她不时地有这种感觉，但是哭有什么用呢。只会弄得她心烦意乱，而且还消耗体力。唉，威尔、媚兰、还有那些姑娘们，为什么就不写信告诉她父亲生病了呢？她会马上乘火车到塔拉来照顾他的，必要的话，还可以从亚特兰大请个医生来嘛。这些傻瓜，他们都是些傻瓜。难道他们没有她就什么事也办不成了吗？她总不能同时待在两个地方呀，而且上帝知道，她在亚特兰大也为他们竭尽全力了。
“Good Lord! Isn’t that you, Scarlett?” he cried, dropping the sack and running to take her hand, pleasure written all over his bitter, swarthy little face. “I’m so glad to see you. I saw Will over at the blacksmith’s shop, getting the horse shod. The train was late and he thought he’d have time. Shall I run fetch him?”	思嘉坐在木桶上东张西望，还不见威尔接她，感到坐立不安。他到哪儿去了呢？此刻她突然听见身后铁路上的煤渣沙沙响，回头一看，只见亚历克斯·方丹扛着一口袋燕麦，越过铁路，朝一辆马车走去。
“Yes, please, Alex,” she said, smiling in spite of her sorrow. It was good to see a County face again.	“天哪！这不是思嘉吗？"他喊道，立即撂下口袋，跑过来，握住思嘉的手，他那痛苦的黑黝黝的小脸露出亲切的神情。"看到你，我真高兴。我看见威尔在铁匠铺钉马掌呢。火车晚点了，他以为能来得及。我跑去叫他，好吗？"“还好吧，亚历克斯，"她说，她虽然很难过，却也露出笑容。见到一个老乡，她觉得好受多了。
“Oh—er—Scarlett,” he began awkwardly, still holding her hand, I’m mighty sorry about your father.”	“唉----唉----思嘉，"他仍然握着她的手，吞吞吐吐地继续说，"我为你父亲感到非常难过。"“谢谢你，"她答道，其实她并不希望他提起这件事，因为他这么一说，使她眼前顿时闪出出父亲音容笑貌。
“Thank you,” she replied, wishing he had not said it. His words brought up Gerald’s florid face and bellowing voice so clearly.	“思嘉，你应该得到安慰，我可以告诉你，我们这儿的人都为他而感到自豪，“亚历克斯一面说，一面松开了手。"他----嗯，我们知道他死得像个战士，是在战斗中死去的。"他这话是什么意思，思嘉感到莫名其妙。像个战士？是有人开枪把他打死了吗？难道他和托尼一样，和共和党人交火了吗？然而她不能再听亚历克斯讲下去。一提到父亲，她就想哭，而她不是能在这里哭的。要哭，也要等到坐上车，和威尔一起上了路，没有人看见的时候再哭。威尔看见没有关系，因为他就像自己的哥哥一样。
“If it’s any comfort to you, Scarlett, we’re mighty proud of him around here,” Alex continued, dropping her hand. “He—well, we figure he died like a soldier and in a soldier’s cause.”	“亚历克斯，我不想谈这件事，"她一句话把人家顶了回去。
Now what did he mean by that, she thought confusedly. A soldier? Had someone shot him? Had he gotten into a fight with the Scalawags as Tony had? But she mustn’t hear more. She would cry if she talked about him and she mustn’t cry, not until she was safely in the wagon with Will and out in the country where no stranger could see her. Will wouldn’t matter. He was just like a brother.	“思嘉，这没关系，"亚历克斯说，这时他一股怒气涌上心头，涨得满脸通红。“她要是我的姐妹，我就----哎，思嘉，提到任何一个女人，我都没说过一句粗鲁的话，可是，说实话，我真的觉得应该有个人拿起鞭教训教训苏伦。"他在胡扯些什么呀？思嘉一点也听不明白。苏伦和这件事有什么关系呢？
“Alex, I don’t want to talk about it,” she said shortly.	“可惜呀，这地方人人对她都是这个看法。只有威尔不责备她，当然还有媚兰小姐，她是个大好人，在她眼里谁都没有缺点----。"“我刚才已经说了，我不想谈这件事，"思嘉冷冰冰地说，可是亚历克斯好像不知趣。他仿佛知道她为什么这样不客气，这就使得思嘉更为恼怒。她不愿意从一个局外人那里听到自己家中不好的消息，不希望这个局外人看她对自己家中发生的事一点知道。威尔怎么不把所有的细节都写信告诉她呢？
“I don’t blame you one bit, Scarlett,” said Alex while the dark blood of anger flooded his face. “If it was my sister, I’d—well, Scarlett, I’ve never yet said a harsh word about any woman, but personally I think somebody ought to take a rawhide whip to Suellen.”	思嘉希望亚历克斯不要那样盯着她看。她感到亚历克斯已发现到她怀孕了，这使她很不好意思。亚历克斯则在昏暗的暮色中一面看着她一面想，她的容貌完全变了，刚才是怎样认出她来的呢。这变化也许是因为怀孕的缘故。女人怀了孕，都是很丑的。此外，奥哈拉老先生之死，也一定让她特别伤心。她父亲一向是最宠爱她的。但是还不止于此，还有更深刻的变化。和上次见到她的时候相比，她现在的气色好多了。至少如今她看上去她似乎一天能吃上三顿像样的饭了。
What foolishness was he talking about now, she wondered. What had Suellen to do with it all?	往日那种失魂落魄的神情已经消失了很多。过去她那惊恐不安的目光，现在坚定了。她现在有一种威严、自信、果敢的神气，即使在微笑之中也流露出这种神气。弗兰克这个老家伙一定和她生活得很愉快。她确实是变了。她是个美丽的女人，这是肯定无疑的，不过她脸上那种温柔甜美的表情不见了，她仰着头讨好男人的神态，过去他比谁都熟悉，现在也全然消失了。
“Everybody around here feels the same way about her, I’m sorry to say. Will’s the only one who takes up for her—and, of course, Miss Melanie, but she’s a saint and won’t see bad in anyone and—”	但话又说回来了，难道不是大家都变了吗？亚历克斯低头看了看自己的破衣服，脸上马上又露出平时那种痛苦的样子。晚上有时躺着睡不着觉，他就苦思怎样才能让母亲作手术，怎样才能死去的可怜的乔留下的小儿子受教育，怎样才能赚到钱，再买一头骡子，每到这时候，他就觉得还不如继续打下去，他真希望战争永远打下去。他们那时也不知道自己的命运如何。在军队里总有吃的，哪怕是玉米饼子也无所谓，在军队里总有命令你做什么事情，而不必受这份罪。面对着一大堆问题，无法解决。在军队里，什么都不用操心，只要别被敌人打死就行了。除此之外，还有迪米蒂·芒罗。亚历克斯想和她结婚，但是他知道这是不可能的，因为已经有这么些人靠他来养活了。他爱她已经爱了很久，现在她脸上的红晕在逐渐褪去，眼中的欢乐在逐渐消失。要是托尼没跑到得克萨斯去，该有多好埃家里要是还有一个男人，情况就完全不一样了。他那可爱的脾气暴躁的小兄弟，身无分文，跑到西部去了。他们确实是都变了。怎么能不变呢？他深深地叹了一口气。
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” she said coldly but Alex did not seem rebuffed. He looked as though he understood her rudeness and that was annoying. She didn’t want to hear bad tidings about her own family from an outsider, didn’t want him to know of her ignorance of what had happened. Why hadn’t Will sent her the full details?	“你和弗兰克帮了托尼的忙，我还没谢谢你呢，"亚历克斯说。"是你帮他逃走的吧？你可太好了，我打听到了一点消息说他在得克萨斯平安无事的。我没敢写信问津，不过你和弗兰克是不是借给他钱了？我愿意归还----"“唔，亚历克斯，快别说了。现在不谈这个，"思嘉说。钱对她说来居然无关紧要了。
She wished Alex wouldn’t look at her so hard. She felt that he realized her condition and it embarrassed her. But what Alex was thinking as he peered at her in the twilight was that her face had changed so completely he wondered how he had ever recognized her. Perhaps it was because she was going to have a baby. Women did look like the devil at such times. And, of course, she must be feeling badly about old man O’Hara. She had been his pet. But, no, the change was deeper than that. She really looked as if she had three square meals a day. And the hunted-animal look had partly gone from her eyes. Now, the eyes which had been fearful and desperate were hard. There was an air of command, assurance and determination about her, even when she smiled. Bet she led old Frank a merry life! Yes, she had changed. She was a handsome woman, to be sure, but all that pretty, sweet softness had gone from her face and that flattering way of looking up at a man, like he knew more than God Almighty, had utterly vanished.	亚历克斯停顿了片刻，又接着说：“我去找威尔来。明天我们都来参加葬礼。“亚历克斯打起那口袋燕麦，转身要走。就在这时，一辆马车摇摇晃晃地从一条小路上拐出来，吱嘎吱嘎朝他们驶来。
Well, hadn’t they all changed? Alex looked down at his rough clothes and his face fell into its usual bitter lines. Sometimes at night when he lay awake, wondering how his mother was going to get that operation and how poor dead Joe’s little boy was going to get an education and how he was going to get money for another mule, he wished the war was still going on, wished it had gone on forever. They didn’t know their luck then. There was always something to eat in the army, even if it was just corn bread, always somebody to give orders and none of this torturing sense of facing problems that couldn’t be solved—nothing to bother about in the army except getting killed. And then there was Dimity Munroe. Alex wanted to marry her and he knew he couldn’t when so many were already looking to him for support. He had loved her for so long and now the roses were fading from her cheeks and the joy from her eyes. If only Tony hadn’t had to run away to Texas. Another man on the place would make all the difference in the world. His lovable bad-tempered little brother, penniless somewhere in the West. Yes, they had all changed. And why not? He sighed heavily.	威尔没等下车就喊道：“对不起，思嘉，我来晚了。"威尔笨手笨脚地下了车，迈着沉重的步子走到思嘉面前，鞠了个躬，吻了吻她。他从未吻过她，每次提到她的名字，都总要加上"小姐"二字。因此，威尔这样欢迎她，虽然出她意料之外，却使她感到温暖，感到十分高兴。他小心翼翼地扶她躲开车轮，上了车，她低头一看，发现这就是她逃离亚特兰大的时候乘坐的那辆快要散架的旧马车。这么长时间，竟然还没有散架呢？一定是威尔非常注意维修。现在看到这辆车，她感到有点不舒服，而且又记那天晚上离开亚特兰大的情景。她想，就是不吃不穿，她要给家里添辆新车，把这辆旧烧掉。
“I haven’t thanked you for what you and Frank did for Tony,” he said. “It was you who helped him get away, wasn’t it? It was fine of you. I heard in a roundabout way that he was safe in Texas. I was afraid to write and ask you—but did you or Frank lend him any money? I want to repay—”	威尔开始没有说话，思嘉对此非常感激，他把自己那顶破草帽往马车后面一扔，对牲口吆喝了一声，他们就出发了。
“Oh, Alex, please hush! Not now!” cried Scarlett For once, money meant nothing to her.	威尔还是老样子，细长的个子，看上去有些不顺眼，淡红色的头发，温和的眼睛，和牲口一样有耐性。
Alex was silent for a moment.	他们离开村子，走上了通往塔拉的红土路。天边依然残留着一些微红，大片羽毛般的云彩染成了金色和淡绿色。乡间的夜幕悄悄地降临，笼罩着周围的一切，像祈祷一样使人感到安逸。她在困惑，几个月来，没有乡间的清新空气，没有新犁过的土地，没有甜美的夏夜，自己是怎么熬过来的。那湿润的红土那么好闻。那么熟悉，那么亲切，她都想下车去捧上一把。路边红土沟里长满了忍冬，枝叶纵横交错，雨后发出浓郁的香气，和世界上最好的香水一样香。突然有一群燕子扑打着翅膀，从他们头顶上掠过，还不时地有受惊的兔子穿过大路，白色的尾巴摇动着，像是一个鸭绒的粉片。从耕种的土地中间穿过，她高兴地看到两边的棉花长势良好，还有那绿色的灌木在红土里茁壮成长。这一切是多么美好呀！潮湿的沟底里那灰色的薄雾，那红色的土地和茂盛的棉花，平地上一行行弯弯曲曲的庄稼，远处还有黑色的松树，宛如一片片黑色的屏障。她怎么能在亚特兰大待这么久呢，连她自己也不明白。
“I’ll get Will for you,” he said, “and we’ll all be over tomorrow for the funeral.”	“思嘉，过一会儿我再告诉你关于奥哈啦先生的一切情况，在到家以前，我会把所有的情况都告诉你。我想先就一件事听听你的意见。你现在应该算是一家之主了吧。"“什么事呀，威尔？"他扭过头来，温和而冷静地盯着她看了一会儿。
As he picked up the sack of oats and turned away, a wobbly-wheeled wagon swayed out of a side street and creaked up to them. Will called from the seat: “I’m sorry I’m late, Scarlett.”	“我请求你同意我和苏伦结婚。”
Climbing awkwardly down from the wagon, he stumped toward her and, bending, kissed her cheek. Will had never kissed her before, had never failed to precede her name with “Miss” and, while it surprised her, it warmed her heart and pleased her very much. He lifted her carefully over the wheel and into the wagon and, looking down, she saw that it was the same old rickety wagon in which she had fled from Atlanta. How had it ever held together so long? Will must have kept it patched up very well. It made her slightly sick to look at it and to remember that night. If it took the shoes off her feet or food from Aunt Pitty’s table, she’d see that there was a new wagon at Tara and this one burned.	思嘉紧紧地抓住坐垫，感到十分吃惊，差点向后倒下。和苏伦结婚！自从她把弗兰克·肯尼迪从苏伦那里抢走以后，就从来没有想到有谁会想和苏伦结婚。有谁会要苏伦呢？
Will did not speak at first and Scarlett was grateful. He threw his battered straw hat into the back of the wagon, clucked to the horse and they moved off. Will was just the same, lank and gangling, pink of hair, mild of eye, patient as a draft animal.	“哎哟，威尔！”
They left the village behind and turned into the red road to Tara. A faint pink still lingered about the edges of the sky and fat feathery clouds were tinged with gold and palest green. The stillness of the country twilight came down about them as calming as a prayer. How had she ever borne it, she thought, away for all these months, away from the fresh smell of country air, the plowed earth and the sweetness of summer nights? The moist red earth smelled so good, so familiar, so friendly, she wanted to get out and scoop up a handful. The honeysuckle which draped the gullied red sides of the road in tangled greenery was piercingly fragrant as always after rain, the sweetest perfume in the world. Above their heads a flock of chimney swallows whirled suddenly on swift wings and now and then a rabbit scurried startled across the road, his white tail bobbing like an eiderdown powder puff. She saw with pleasure that the cotton stood well, as they passed between plowed fields where the green bushes reared themselves sturdily out of the red earth. How beautiful all this was! The soft gray mist in the swampy bottoms, the red earth and growing cotton, the sloping fields with curving green rows and the black pines rising behind everything like sable walls. How had she ever stayed in Atlanta so long?	“这么说，你是不介意喽？”
“Scarlett, before I tell you about Mr. O’Hara—and I want to tell you everything before you get home—I want to ask your opinion on a matter. I figger you’re the head of the house now.”	“介意？不，我不介意，但是----威尔，你真叫我奇怪！
“What is it, Will?”	你和苏伦结婚？威尔，我一直都以为你喜欢卡琳呢。"威尔两眼盯着马，抖了抖缰绳。从侧面看，他的姿势没有变，但思嘉感到他轻轻地叹了一口气。
He turned his mild sober gaze on her for a moment.	“也许是的，"他说。
“I just wanted your approval to my marryin’ Suellen.”	“怎么，她不想跟你吗？”
Scarlett clutched the seat, so surprised that she almost fell backwards. Marry Suellen! She’d never thought of anybody marrying Suellen since she had taken Frank Kennedy from her. Who would have Suellen?	“我从来没有问过她。”
“Goodness, Will!”	“哎呀，威尔，你真傻。你就问问她嘛。她比两个苏伦都要强！"“思嘉，你知道在塔拉发生了许多事情，近几个月来，你哪里有多少心思来关心我们呀。”“我不关心，是吧？ “思嘉突然发起火来。"你以为我在亚特兰大干什么呢？坐着四骑马的大马车到处参加舞会吗？我不是每个月给你们寄钱吗？我不是交了税，修了屋顶，买了新犁耙，还买了骡子吗？我不是----"“你先别发脾气，使你们爱尔兰人的性子，"他平静地打断了她的话。"要说你做的事情，我比谁都清楚，够两个男人干的。"她的情绪稍微平静了一点之后，她问道，"那你是什么意思？”“这个，你让我们有安身之处，让我们有饭吃，这我不否认。可是这里的人们脑子里在想些什么，你就不大关心。我不责怪你，思嘉，你一直是这个样子。人们心里想什么，你从来不感兴趣。我想告诉你，我根本就没问过卡琳，因为我知道，问也无用。她就好像是的一个小妹妹，我肯定她什么事都对我说，不过别人说。但她始忘不了那个死了的情人，永远也忘不了。我也不妨告诉你，她正想上查尔斯顿，去做修女呢。"“你在开玩笑吧？"“这个，我猜到你会大吃一惊的，思嘉，我只想央求你不要说她，笑她，也不要阻拦她。让她去吧。她只有这么一点儿要求，她的心碎了。"“我的天哪！心碎的人多了，也没见谁去当修女。就拿我来说吧，我送掉了一个丈夫。"“可是你的心没有碎，"威尔心平气和地一边说，一边从脚下拴起一根草棍，放到嘴里，慢慢咀嚼起来，这句话顿时使她泄了气。她一直是这样，如果别人说的话是合乎实际的，无论多么难以接受，她也会老老实实地承认。她沉默了一会儿，心里思忖着，要是卡琳当了修女，会是怎样的一种情况。
“Then I take it you don’t mind?”	“你答应我，不要说她了。”
“Mind? No, but— Why, Will, you’ve taken my breath away! You marry Suellen? Will, I always thought you were sweet on Carreen.”	“那我就答应你吧，"思嘉回答说，同时看一眼威尔，觉得对他有了进一步的了解，也感到有些惊讶。威尔爱过卡琳，现在还很爱她，设法帮助她，使她顺利得到解脱。可是他怪然要和苏伦结婚。
Will kept his eyes on the horse and flapped the reins. His profile did not change but she thought he sighed slightly.	“可是这苏伦是怎么回事？你不是不喜欢她吗？"“唔，我也不是一定不喜欢她，"他一面说，一面把草棍从嘴里拿出来盯着看，好像十分有趣。"苏伦并不像你以为的那么坏，思嘉，我想我们俩会和睦相处的。苏伦差就差在她需要一个丈夫，生下一帮孩子，女人都是这样。"马车沿着车辙很深的路摇摇晃晃地向前驶去。两人坐在那里沉默了一会，思嘉的心里左思右想。问题一定不像表面上这么简单，一定还有更深一层、更重要的原因，否则性情温和、言语亲切的威尔是不会想和苏伦这样一个爱唠叨的人结婚的。
“Maybe I was,” he said.	“威尔，你没有把真正的原因告诉我。你要是觉得我是一家之主，我就有权问清楚。” “你说得对，"威尔说，"我想你会理解的。我不能离开塔拉这个地方。这里就是我的家，是我唯一的真正的家。我爱这里的一草一木。我为它出过力，觉得它就像自己的一样。你要是在某件东西上出过力，你就会对它有感情。你明白我的意思吗？"思嘉的的确确是明白了他的意思。而且听到他说他也喜爱自己最喜爱的东西，心里升起一股暖流，对他有一种亲切的之感。
“Well, won’t she have you?”	“我是这么想的。你爸爸死了，卡琳再当了修女，这里就只剩下我和苏伦了。我要是不与她结婚，自然是不能在这里住下去的，你知道人们会说闲话的呀。”“但是----但是，威尔，那里还有媚兰和艾希礼呀----"一提起艾希礼的名字，威尔就转过脸来看着思嘉，灰色的眼睛发出深沉的目光。她又一次感到威尔对她和艾希礼的事很清楚，很理解，不过他既不指责，也不表示赞成。
“I never asked her.”	“你们很快就要走了。”
“Oh, Will, you’re a fool. Ask her. She’s worth two of Suellen!”	“走？上哪儿去？塔拉是你的家，也是他们的家。"“不，这里不是他们的家。艾希礼正是因此而苦恼。他没把这里当他的家，也不觉得自己是在挣钱养活自己。他干不好农活，他自己也知道，他很努力，可是天知道，他天生不是干农活的料，这你我都是很清楚的。他要是叫他劈柴火，他准得把自己的脚丫子劈掉。要是叫他下地扶犁，他还不如小博扶得直。怎么种庄稼，他很多事都不懂，够写一本书的。这也不能算是他的过错，在天生就不是干这的。他觉得自己是个男子汉，可是住在塔拉，靠一个女人施舍过日子，又无法报答，所以很苦恼。"“施舍？他真的说过----"“没有，他从来没有说过。你是了解艾希礼的。但是我看得出来。昨晚，我们俩坐在一起给你爸爸守灵的时候，我对他说我向苏伦求婚，苏伦同意了。艾希礼说，这倒使他松了一口气，因为他说他住在塔拉，总感到像条狗似的，既然奥哈拉先生死了，他觉得他和媚兰小姐就不得不在这里待下去，否则人们就会说我和苏伦的闲话了，现在既然这样，他说他就打算离开塔拉，到别处去找工作去了。"“我也不知道他到底要干什么，不过他说要到北方去，他在纽约有个朋友，是个北方佬，给他写信，让他到那里一家银行去工作。
“Scarlett, you don’t know a lot of things that’s been going on at Tara. You ain’t favored us with much of your attention these last months.”	“啊，不行！"思嘉发自肺腑地喊了一声。威尔一听，又转过头来看了她一眼。
“I haven’t, haven’t I?” she flared. “What do you suppose I’ve been doing in Atlanta? Riding around in a coach and four and going to balls? Haven’t I sent you money every month? Haven’t I paid the taxes and fixed the roof and bought the new plow and the mules? Haven’t—”	“也许他还是到北方去的好。”
“Now, don’t fly off the handle and get your Irish up,” he interrupted imperturbably. “If anybody knows what you’ve done, I do, and it’s been two men’s work.”	“不，不！我看不好的。”
Slightly mollified, she questioned, “Well then, what do you mean?”	思嘉心里思绪万千。她暗想，无论如何也不能让艾希礼到北方去。艾希礼要是走了，就可能永远见不到面了。虽然过去几个月没有见到他，而且自从在果园里出了那件事之后一直没有单独与他说过话，但是她没有一天不想念他，一想到为他提供了存身之处就感到高兴，她每次给威尔寄钱，都想到这可以使艾希礼生活宽裕些，因此觉得愉快。他当然不是个像样的庄稼汉。她认为他生来就是干大事的。为他感到骄傲。他生来就高人一等，就该住大房子。骑好马，念念诗，还可以使唤黑奴。现在大房子没有了，马没有了，黑奴没有了，书也很少了，可是这统统没关系。艾希礼不是生来就该种地劈柴的。难怪他要离开塔拉了。
“Well, you’ve kept the roof over us and food in the pantry and I ain’t denyin’ that, but you ain’t given much thought to what’s been goin’ on in anybody’s head here at Tara. I ain’t blamin’ you, Scarlett. That’s just your way. You warn’t never very much interested in what was in folks’ heads. But what I’m tryin’ to tell you is that I didn’t never ask Miss Carreen because I knew it wouldn’t be no use. She’s been like a little sister to me and I guess she talks to me plainer than to anybody in the world. But she never got over that dead boy and she never will. And I might as well tell you now she’s aimin’ to go in a convent over to Charleston.”	但是她不能让他离开佐治亚。必要的话，她可以逼着弗兰克在店里给他安排个工作，辞退那个站柜台的伙计，可是，不能这么办，因为艾希礼不只种田不行，站柜台也是不行的。
“Are you joking?”	威尔克斯家的人怎么能做买卖呢？啊，那是绝对不行的！一定要有个合适的工作----对呀，当然可以把他安插在她的木材厂里！她想到这里，如释重负，禁不住露出笑容。可是艾希礼会不会接受她这份好意呢？他会不会认为这也是一种施舍呢？她一定得想个办法，使艾希礼认为是在帮她的忙，她可以辞掉约翰逊先生，让艾希礼去管老厂，让休管新厂，她要向艾希礼解释，就说弗兰克身体不好，店里的活儿也太重，帮不了她的忙，她还可以以怀孕为理由，说明为什么非请他帮忙不可。
“Well, I knew it would take you back and I just want to ask you, Scarlett, don’t you argue with her about it or scold her or laugh at her. Let her go. It’s all she wants now. Her heart’s broken.”	思嘉无论如何也要让艾希礼明白，眼下非帮他一把不可。
“But God’s nightgown! Lots of people’s hearts have been broken and they didn’t run off to convents. Look at me. I lost a husband.”	他要是愿意把木材厂接过去。她情愿把利润分一半给他，只要能把他留在身边，只要能看见他脸上露出的愉快笑容，只要有机会看到他眼神里无意中依然流露出的爱慕之情，她是什么都愿意给的。不过她也告诫自己，千万不要再鼓励他表白爱情，千万不要让他放弃他比爱情更看重的纯洁的名誉感。
“But your heart warn’t broken,” Will said calmly and, picking up a straw from the bottom of the wagon, he put it in his mouth and chewed slowly. That remark took the wind out of her. As always when she heard the truth spoken, no matter how unpalatable it was, basic honesty forced her to acknowledge it as truth. She was silent a moment, trying to accustom herself to the idea of Carreen as a nun.	她无论如何也要想方设让他知道她刚刚作出的决定，否则他会不干的，因为他怕再出一次那种糟糕的事。
“Promise you won’t fuss at her.”	“我能在亚特兰大给他找个事做。"她说。
“Oh, well, I promise,” and then she looked at him with a new understanding and some amazement. Will had loved Carreen, loved her now enough to take her part and make her retreat easy. And yet he wanted to marry Suellen.	“那就是你和艾希礼的事了，"威尔说，随即又把草棍放到跟里去了。"驾！快点儿，谢尔曼。我还得求你一件事，然后才能说你爸爸的事。那就是请你不要谴责苏伦。祸，她已经闯下了，你就是把她的头发全揪光，也不能让奥哈拉先生复活了。何况她还真的以为自己是能把这件事办好的。"“我刚才就想问你，这苏伦究竟是怎么回事？亚历克斯说得吞吞吐吐，说应该用鞭子抽她一顿，她到底做错了什么事？"“是啊，大家都对她很愤慨，今天下午在琼斯博罗，谁见了我都说再看到她就要宰了她，不过他们也许过一会儿就好了。现在你得答应我。不去责怪她。奥哈拉先生的遗体还在客厅里，今天晚上我不希望发生争吵。"“他不希望发生争吵！"思嘉心里想，她感到有些生气。
“Well, what’s all this about Suellen? You don’t care for her, do you?”	“听他的口气，好像塔拉已经是他的了。"接着她又想到父亲杰拉尔德还停在客厅里，于是突然哭起来，抽抽搭搭地，好伤心埃威尔伸出一只胳臂把她搂过来，使她感到舒服一些，什么也没说。
“Oh, yes, I do in a way,” he said removing the straw and surveying it as if it were highly interesting. “Suellen ain’t as bad as you think, Scarlett. I think we’ll get along right well. The only trouble with Suellen is that she needs a husband and some children and that’s just what every woman needs.”	他们慢慢颠簸前行，路也越来越黑，思嘉把头靠在威尔的肩膀上，帽子歪在一边，她忘记了这两年来父亲的情况，一位糊涂的老人呆呆地看着门口，等待一个就远不会再来的女人。她记忆中的父亲是一位神采奕奕的老人，留着鬈曲的白色长发，声音洪亮，性格开朗，急起来跺脚，高兴起来开个不伦不类的玩笑，对人总是慷慨大方，她想起小时候，觉得父亲是世界上最好的人。这位爽朗的父亲带她骑马，让她坐在前面，骑着马跳篱笆，她淘气的时候，就把她按住，打她的屁股，她要是一哭，父亲也跟着哭，然后给她两毛五分钱一个硬币，她就不哭了，她记得父亲从查尔斯顿和亚特兰大回家来，带了很多礼物，从来没有一件合适的。她还记得父亲在球斯博罗参加法院开庭日庆祝活动以后，深夜回到家里，醉醺醺的，骑着马跳过篱笆，扯着嗓子唱《身穿绿军装》。记得他第二天看到母亲爱伦是有多么难为情。唉，现在他去和母亲作伴去了。
The wagon jolted over the rutty road and for a few minutes while the two sat silent Scarlett’s mind was busy. There must be something more to it than appeared on the surface, something deeper, more important, to make the mild and soft-spoken Will want to marry a complaining nagger like Suellen.	“你怎么不写信告诉我他病了呢，我马上就会赶回来----""他没有生病，连一分钟也没病过。来，亲爱的，给你手绢，我来详细地给你说一说。"她用他的印度绸大手帕擤了擤鼻涕，因为她离开亚特兰大的时候很仓促，连手绢也没拿。擤完鼻涕，他又偎在威尔的怀里。威尔真好！碰到他什么事都不着急。
“You haven’t told me the real reason, Will. If I’m head of the family, I’ve got a right to know.”	“恩嘉，你听着，是这么回事，你一直给我们寄钱来，我和艾希礼交了税，买了那头骡子、种种什么的，还买了几头猪，一群鸡。媚兰小姐养鸡养得不错，的确养得非常好。媚兰小姐，她可真是个好人，这么说吧，我们为塔拉买了这些东西以后，就剩下了多少钱买衣服了，不过大家也没什么怨言，只有苏伦不同。”“媚兰小姐和卡琳小姐待在家里，都穿自己的旧衣服，好像也感到不错。思嘉，你是了解苏伦的，没有新衣服，她是受不了的。她每次不得不穿着旧衣服跟我去琼斯博罗，或者更远一点，去费耶特维尔，都觉得难受得要命。尤其是有些北方来的冒险家的太太，她们打扮得花枝招展，到处扭来扭去。'自由人局'里那些该死的北方佬，他们的太太也爱打扮。
“That’s right,” said Will, “and I guess you’ll understand. I can’t leave Tara. It’s home to me, Scarlett, the only real home I ever knew and I love every stone of it. I’ve worked on it like it was mine. And when you put out work on somethin’, you come to love it. You know what I mean?”	本地妇女就不同，她们穿着最难看的衣服进城，表示毫不在乎，而且引以为荣，苏伦可不是这样。她还说要一辆大马车呢。她说你就有一辆。"“那并不是什么大马车，而是一辆旧的敝篷车，"思嘉气愤地说。
She knew what he meant and her heart went out in a surge of warm affection for him, hearing him say he, too, loved the thing she loved best.	“唉，不管是什么车吧，我还得告诉你，苏伦对你和弗兰克·肯尼迪结婚始终耿耿于怀，我也觉得这不能怪她。你知道，这是一种卑鄙的伎俩，姐妹之间可不该耍这一套。"思嘉从他肩膀上抬起头来，气得像一条响尾蛇，准备咬人。
“And I figger it this way. With your pa gone and Carreen a nun, there’ll be just me and Suellen left here and, of course, I couldn’t live on at Tara without marryin’ Suellen. You know how folks talk.”	“卑鄙的伎俩，是吧？你说话这么文雅，我得谢谢你呀，威尔·本廷！他喜欢我，不喜欢她，叫我有什么办法？"“你是个机灵的女子，思嘉，我知道你是有办法让他喜欢你的。女孩子都会干这个。不过我觉得你恐怕是花言巧语把他弄到手的。你认为必要的时候，你会是非常迷人的，可是不管怎么说，他是苏伦的情人呀。就在你去亚特兰大这前一个星期，她收到他一封信，信里的话甜如蜜，还说等他再赚一点钱就结婚。她给我看过这封信，所以我知道。"思嘉默不作声，因为她知道他说的是事实，她想不出什么好说的，别人就罢了，可是威尔出来对她进行批评，她是万万没有料到的。她用谎言欺骗了弗兰克以后，从来没有良心不安内疚过，她认为一个女孩子要是连自己的情人都保不住，那就只能怪她自己了。
“But—but Will, there’s Melanie and Ashley—”	“威尔，说句公道话。"她说，"要是苏伦和他结了婚，你觉得她会为塔拉，或者我们哪一个人，花一分钱吗？"“我刚才说了，你认为必要的时候，你会是很迷人的，"威尔一面说，一面转过头来朝她微微一笑。"是啊，我觉得那就不能指望从弗兰克这个老家伙那里得到一分钱了，不过你确实使了卑鄙的伎俩，这是无法回避的事实。如果你想以手段来为目的辩解，那就不干我的事了，我算什么人，有什么资格来抱怨？但是不管怎么说，从那以后，苏伦就像一只大黄蜂。我认为她倒也不见得认为弗兰克这个老家伙有多么好，只是她的虚荣心受到了伤害，她老说你如何穿好衣服，坐大马车，住在亚特兰大，而她却埋没在塔拉这个地方了。你知道，她确实爱出去会客，参加宴会，还爱穿漂亮衣服，这我不怪她。女人就是这样。"“大约一个月以前，我带她到琼斯博罗去，让她去探望朋友，我就办我的事，返回时候，她乖得像只小耗子，可我看得出来，她心里是非常激动的，简直要炸开了，我以为她了解某人要----也许是她听到了一些有趣的闲言碎语，也就没怎么在意。大约有一个星期，她在家里跑来跑去，就那么兴奋，也不怎么说话。她去看过凯瑟琳·卡尔弗特小姐----思嘉，你一定会为凯瑟琳小姐难过得哭瞎了眼。那可怜的孩子还不如死了好，嫁给了那个叫希尔顿的北方佬，他是个窝囊废。你知道，他把房子抵押出去，也弄不回来了，如今一定得离开这里不可。““我压根儿不知道，也不想知道。我只想了解爸爸的情况。"“我这就告诉你， “威尔继续耐心地说。"她回来以后就对我们说，我们对希尔顿的看法不对，她管他叫希尔顿先生，还说他是个很能干的人，我们大家都取笑她，后来她就在老在下午带着爸爸出去散步。好几次，我在地里干完活儿回来，就看见他们俩坐在墓地周围的矮墙上，她一个劲地跟他说，还作着各种手势，老先生呆呆地看着她，显出莫名其妙的样子，而且不断地摇头。你是知道他的情况的，思嘉，他的脑子越来越不清醒，连他自己在哪儿，我们是些什么人，他也弄不大清楚了，有一次，我见她指了指你母亲的坟，老先生就哭起来了。她回到家里，又高兴，又兴奋，我就教训了她一顿，还满凶地呢。我说：'苏伦小姐，你干吗要折磨你那可怜的老爸爸，让他又想起你妈呢？平时他不大想得起你妈已经死了，你这不是故意刺激他吗？'她呢，把头一扬，笑了笑，说：'你少管闲事，我现在这么做，到时候你们就都高兴了。 '媚兰小姐昨天晚上对我说，苏伦把她的计划告诉她了。但是媚兰小姐说她当时以为苏伦只是说着玩的。她说她没能告诉我们任何人，是因为这个想法使她感到十分不安。"“到底什么想法？你能不能直截了当地告诉我？回家的路都走了一半子。我关心的是我爸爸。"“我这不正在给你说吗，"威尔说，"既然快到家了，我看咱们就在这里停一会儿，说完了再走吧。"他一拉缰绳，马就停住了，呼哧呼哧地直喘气，路边有一道用茂盛的山梅花筑成的篱笆，这是麦金托什家的地界。思嘉从黑黝黝地树底下看过去，可以隐隐约约看出几根阴森森的大烟囟还在寂静的废墟上矗立着，她心里责怪威尔，怎么把车停在这样一个地方。
At Ashley’s name he turned and looked at her, his pale eyes unfathomable. She had the old feeling that Will knew all about her and Ashley, understood all and did not either censure or approve.	“简单地说，她的想法就是让北方佬赔偿，赔他们烧掉的棉花，赔他们赶走的牲口，赔他们拆毁的篱笆和马厩。"“让北方佬来赔？"“你没听说吗？南方同情联帮的人，财产受到破坏的，只要提出申请，北方政府一律赔偿。"“我当然听说过，"思嘉说。"但是这和我们有什么关系？"“照苏伦看来，关系大着呢。那一天，我带她去琼斯博罗，她碰上了麦金托什太太，她们闲聊的时候，苏伦自然注意到麦托什太太穿着多么考究，也自然要问一问。麦金托什太太就很神平地对她说，她丈夫如何向联邦政府提出申请，要求给一位联邦同情都赔偿财产损失，这位忠诚的同情从来没有给南部联盟任何形式的帮助和支持。"“他们从来不给任何人帮助和支持，"思嘉厉声说。"这帮苏格兰血统的爱尔兰人！"“唔，也许是这样。我不清楚他们。但不管怎么样政府给了他们----唔，我记不清是几万几千块钱了。反正是相当可观的一笔钱，这给了苏伦很大的启发。她琢磨了一个星期，没有对我们说，因为她知道我们会嘲笑她，可是她又非得找个人说说不可，所以她就去找凯瑟琳小姐，而那个废物白人希尔顿就又给她出了一些主意，他说你父亲不是在这个国家出生的，自己没有参加打仗，也没有儿子参加打仗，也没有在南部联盟任职。他说，他们如果把这些情况加以引伸，就可以说奥哈拉先生是联帮的一个忠诚的同情者。他给她出了一大堆这样的馊主意，她回来以后就开始对奥哈拉先生作工作。
“They’ll be goin’ soon.”	思嘉，我敢保证你父亲有一半时间不知道她在说些什么。她也正是想利用这种情况，让他去立下绝对可靠的誓言，而他压根儿不知道这是怎么回事。"“让爸爸去立下绝对可靠的誓言！"思嘉喊道。
“Going? Where? Tara is their home as well as yours.”	“近几个月以来，他的神智越来越不清楚，我想她也正要利用这一点。你要知道，我们谁也没有想会有这样的事，我们光知道她在搞名堂，但是没想到她竟然会利用你那死去的妈妈来责怪你爸爸，说他明明可以从北方佬那里弄到十五万块钱，而非要让自己的女儿们穿破旧衣衫。"“１５万块钱。"思嘉息言自语，她刚才听说要立誓言而产生的恐惧也渐渐消失了。
“No, it ain’t their home. That’s just what’s eatin’ on Ashley. It ain’t his home and he don’t feel like he’s earnin’ his keep. He’s a mighty pore farmer and he knows it. God knows he tries his best but he warn’t cut out for farmin’ and you know it as well as I do. If he splits kindlin’, like as not he’ll slice off his foot. He can’t no more keep a plow straight in a furrow than little Beau can, and what he don’t know about makin’ things grow would fill a book. It ain’t his fault. He just warn’t bred for it. And it worries him that he’s a man livin’ at Tara on a woman’s charity and not givin’ much in return.”	这可是一大笔钱呢！而且要得到这笔钱只需要签署一份所谓效忠于美国政府的督词，说明签字人一向支持政府，从未帮助或支持过反对政府的人。十五万块钱！撒这么一个小谎就能得到这么一大笔钱！唉，她怎么会责怪苏伦呢！天哪！
“Charity? Has he ever said—”	难这就是亚历克斯说要用皮鞭抽她的理由吗？这就是为什么当地人说要宰了她吗？傻瓜，都是傻瓜。她要是有这么些钱，干什么不行呢！当地任何人有了这笔钱，干什么不行呢！撒这么小谎有什么要关系？不管怎么说，从北方佬那里拿多少钱都是心安理得的，怎么拿都行。
“No, he’s never said a word. You know Ashley. But I can tell. Last night when we were sittin’ up with your pa, I tole him I had asked Suellen and she’d said Yes. And then Ashley said that relieved him because he’d been feelin’ like a dog, stayin’ on at Tara, and he knew he and Miss Melly would have to keep stayin’ on, now that Mr. O’Hara was dead, just to keep folks from talkin’ about me and Suellen. So then he told me he was aimin’ to leave Tara and get work.”	“昨天中午前后，我和艾希礼在劈栅栏条，苏伦就用这辆车送你父亲进城去了，也没跟任何人打招呼，媚兰小姐了解一点情况，但是她只希望苏伦会因某种原因而改变主意，所以也就没对任何人说，她根本没想到苏伦会做这样的事。"“今天我了解到了详细的情况。希尔顿那个废物在城里那些投靠北方佬的人和共和党人中间有些影响，苏伦和他们商量好了，只要他们睁一只眼，闭一只眼，承认奥哈拉先生是忠于联于邦的人，再渲染一下他是爱尔兰人，没有参军打仗等等。最后在推荐书上签个字，就可以分给他们一些钱----究竟分多少，我不知道。父亲只需要宣个誓，在宣誓书上签个字，宣誓书就寄到华盛顿去了。"“他们稀里呼噜很快就把誓词念完了，你爸爸也没说什么，一切进行得很顺利，接着苏伦就让他签字。但就在这时，他似乎突然醒悟了，便摇了摇头，我觉得他也不见得就知道这是怎么回事，但是他不愿意干，苏伦也的确老是让他生气。
“Work? What kind? Where?”	这样一来，苏伦可就急了，所有的努力都白费了。于是她就领他出了办事处，上了马车，在街上来回地跑，一面对他说你妈在九泉之下哭着指责他，明明可以好好的养活孩子们，却让她们受穷受苦了，听人家说，你父亲坐在车上，像个孩子似的嚎啕大哭，他一听到你母亲的名字总是这样。这情景城里的人都看见了，亚历克斯·方丹凑上去问这是怎么回事，苏伦把人家抢白了一通，叫他别多管闲事，真把人家气疯了。"“不知她怎么想出鬼点子，下午弄了一瓶白兰地，又陪奥哈拉先生来到办事处，然后就拿酒灌他。思嘉，一年来我们在塔拉就没有烈性酒。只有一点迪尔茜酿的黑莓酒和野葡萄酒，奥哈拉先生受不了，就喝醉了。苏伦连劝带骗，过了两三个钟头，他终于屈服了，他说，好吧，她让他签什么，就签什么。他们把誓词又拿出来。他刚提起笔来要写，苏伦却犯个了大错。她说：'这样一来，斯莱特里家和麦金托什家就不用对我们神气了！'你知道，思嘉，斯莱特里因为北方佬烧了他这有一所小破房子，要求赔偿一大笔钱，埃米的丈夫也大华盛顿给他办通了。”
“I don’t know exactly what he’ll do but he said he was goin’ up North. He’s got a Yankee friend in New York who wrote him about workin’ in a bank up there.”	“一听苏伦提这两个人的名字，你爸爸直起腰来，抖了抖肩膀，用敏锐的眼光盯着她，他一点也不糊涂了，他说：'斯莱特里和麦金托什，他们也签过这样的东西吗？'苏伦顿时紧张起来，吞吞吐吐地一会儿说签了，一会儿又说没签。他就扯着嗓子叫喊：'你得说清楚，那个该死的奥兰治分子，那个该死的白人穷小子，他们也签过这种东西吗？'希尔顿那家伙顺口说：'是的，先生，他们都签了，得到了一大笔钱，您也能得到一大笔钱。'"“老先生接着就大发雷霆。亚历克斯·方丹说，他在离办事处老远的一家酒馆里都听见他叫嚷了。他带着很重的爱尔兰口音说：'你以为塔拉的奥哈拉家的人能和那该死的奥兰治分子，和那该死的白穷小子，同流合污吗？'他说完就把那誓词一下撕成两半，朝苏伦脸上扔去。他还叫嚷了一声：'你不是我的女儿！'就转身跑掉了！"“亚历克斯说看见他像头牛一样冲到街上。他说，自从你母亲死后，老先生这是第一次恢复了原来的样子。他说，看见他醉得跌跌撞撞，仍扯着嗓子叫骂，从来没听见谁骂得这么好听呢。亚历克斯的马就在街上，你父亲爬上去，也不问一声让不让骑，就骑着跑了，扬起的尘土能把人给呛死。他一边跑，一边还在骂呢。"“快到天黑的时候，我和艾希礼坐在前门的台阶上，注视着那条大路，心里十分着急，媚兰小姐在楼上趴在床上大哭，什么也不说。突然我们听见路那头有马蹄声，还有个人喊叫，像是打猎的时候追狐狸的喊声，艾希礼说：'真怪呀！听着好像奥哈拉先生，战前他骑马来看我们的时候就是这样。'"“接着我们就看见他在草场的尽那头，他肯定是在那里从篱笆跳进来的，然后他就顺着山坡拼命往上跑，同时高唱起歌来，好像他在世上无牵无挂的样子。我从不知道你父亲有这么一副好嗓子。他唱的是《矮背马车上的佩格》，一边唱，一边用帽子打那骑马，那马也就像疯了似地猛跑。等他跑到草场的这一头，他应该勒住缰绳，可是他没有勒，看来他想要跳过篱笆。我们一看这种情况，都吓坏了，连忙跳起来，接着就听见他喊：'来，爱伦，看我跳这个篱笆！'可是那马跑到篱笆前，把屁股一抬就站住了，它不肯跳，可是你爸爸就从马头上面折了过去。他一点罪也没受。等我们赶到那里，他已经死了，大概是把脖颈子摔断了。"威尔停了一会，以为她会说点什么，可是她一声不吭，于是他又抓起缰绳。"驾！快跑，谢尔曼，"他这样一吆喝，马便又沿着回家的路左跑起来。
“Oh, no!” cried Scarlett from the bottom of her heart and, at the cry, Will gave her the same look as before.
“Maybe ‘twould be better all ‘round if he did go North.”
“No! No! I don’t think so.”
Her mind was working feverishly. Ashley couldn’t go North! She might never see him again. Even though she had not seen him in months, had not spoken to him alone since that fateful scene in the orchard, there had not been a day when she had not thought of him, been glad he was sheltered under her roof. She had never sent a dollar to Will that she had not been pleased that it would make Ashley’s life easier. Of course, he wasn’t any good as a farmer. Ashley was bred for better things, she thought proudly. He was born to rule, to live in a large house, ride fine horses, read books of poetry and tell negroes what to do. That there were no more mansions and horses and negroes and few books did not alter matters. Ashley wasn’t bred to plow and split rails. No wonder he wanted to leave Tara.
But she could not let him go away from Georgia. If necessary, she would bully Frank into giving him a job in the store, make Frank turn off the boy he now had behind the counter. But, no—Ashley’s place was no more behind a counter than it was behind a plow. A Wilkes a shopkeeper! Oh, never that! There must be something—why, her mill of course! Her relief at the thought was so great that she smiled. But would he accept an offer from her? Would he still think it was charity? She must manage it so he would think he was doing her a favor. She would discharge Mr. Johnson and put Ashley in charge of the old mill while Hugh operated the new one. She would explain to Ashley how Frank’s ill health and the pressure of work at the store kept him from helping her, and she would plead her condition as another reason why she needed his help.
She would make him realize somehow that she couldn’t do without his aid at this time. And she would give him a half-interest in the mill, if he would only take it over—anything just to have him near her, anything to see that bright smile light up his face, anything for the chance of catching an unguarded look in his eyes that showed he still cared. But, she promised herself, never, never would she again try to prod him into words of love, never again would she try to make him throw away that foolish honor he valued more than love. Somehow, she must delicately convey to him this new resolution of hers. Otherwise he might refuse, fearing another scene such as that last terrible one had been.
“I can get him something to do in Atlanta,” she said.
“Well, that’s yours and Ashley’s business,” said Will and put the straw back in his mouth. “Giddap, Sherman. Now, Scarlett, there’s somethin’ else I’ve got to ask you before I tell you about your pa. I won’t have you lightin’ into Suellen. What she’s done, she’s done, and you snatchin’ her baldheaded won’t bring Mr. O’Hara back. Besides she honestly thought she was actin’ for the best!”
“I wanted to ask you about that What is all this about Suellen? Alex talked riddles and said she ought to be whipped. What has she done?”
“Yes, folks are pretty riled up about her. Everybody I run into this afternoon in Jonesboro was promisin’ to cut her dead the next time they seen her, but maybe they’ll get over it. Now, promise me you won’t light into her. I won’t be havin’ no quarrelin’ tonight with Mr. O’Hara layin’ dead in the parlor.”
He won’t be having any quarreling! thought Scarlett, indignantly. He talks like Tara was his already!
And then she thought of Gerald, dead in the parlor, and suddenly she began to cry, cry in bitter, gulping sobs. Will put his arm around her, drew her comfortably close and said nothing.
As they jolted slowly down the darkening road, her head on his shoulder, her bonnet askew, she had forgotten the Gerald of the last two years, the vague old gentleman who stared at doors waiting for a woman who would never enter. She was remembering the vital, virile old man with his mane of crisp white hair, his bellowing cheerfulness, his stamping boots, his clumsy jokes, his generosity. She remembered how, as a child, he had seemed the most wonderful man in the world, this blustering father who carried her before him on his saddle when he jumped fences, turned her up and paddled her when she was naughty, and then cried when she cried and gave her quarters to get her to hush. She remembered him coming home from Charleston and Atlanta laden with gifts that were never appropriate, remembered too, with a faint smile through tears, how he came home in the wee hours from Court Day at Jonesboro, drunk as seven earls, jumping fences, his rollicking voice raised in “The Wearin’ o’ the Green.” And how abashed he was, facing Ellen on the morning after. Well, he was with Ellen now.
“Why didn’t you write me that he was ill? I’d have come so fast—”
“He warn’t ill, not a minute. Here, honey, take my handkerchief and I’ll tell you all about it.”
She blew her nose on his bandanna, for she had come from Atlanta without even a handkerchief, and settled back into the crook of Will’s arm. How nice Will was. Nothing ever upset him.
“Well, it was this way, Scarlett. You been sendin’ us money right along and Ashley and me, well, we’ve paid taxes and bought the mule and seeds and what-all and a few hogs and chickens. Miss Melly’s done mighty well with the hens, yes sir, she has. She’s a fine woman, Miss Melly is. Well, anyway, after we bought things for Tara, there warn’t so much left over for folderols, but none of us warn’t complainin’. Except Suellen.
“Miss Melanie and Miss Carreen stay at home and wear their old clothes like they’re proud of them but you know Suellen, Scarlett. She hasn’t never got used to doin’ without. It used to stick in her craw that she had to wear old dresses every time I took her into Jonesboro or over to Fayetteville. ‘Specially as some of those Carpetbaggers’ ladi-women was always flouncin’ around in fancy trimmin’s. The wives of those damn Yankees that run the Freedmen’s Bureau, do they dress up! Well, it’s kind of been a point of honor with the ladies of the County to wear their worst-lookin’ dresses to town, just to show how they didn’t care and was proud to wear them. But not Suellen. And she wanted a hone and carriage too. She pointed out that you had one.”
It’s not a carriage, it’s an old buggy,” said Scarlett indignantly.
“Well, no matter what. I might as well tell you Suellen never has got over your marryin’ Frank Kennedy and I don’t know as I blame her. You know that was a kind of scurvy trick to play on a sister.”
Scarlett rose from his shoulder, furious as a rattler ready to strike.
“Scurvy trick, hey? I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, Win Benteen! Could I help it if he preferred me to her?”
“You’re a smart girl, Scarlett, and I figger, yes, you could have helped him preferrin’ you. Girls always can. But I guess you kind of coaxed him. You’re a mighty takin’ person when you want to be, but all the same, he was Suellen’s beau. Why, she’d had a letter from him a week before you went to Atlanta and he was sweet as sugar about her and talked about how they’d get married when he got a little more money ahead. I know because she showed me the letter.”
Scarlett was silent because she knew he was telling the truth and she could think of nothing to say. She had never expected Will, of all people, to sit in judgment on her. Moreover the lie she had told Frank had never weighed heavily upon her conscience. If a girl couldn’t keep a beau, she deserved to lose him.
“Now, Will, don’t be mean,” she said. “If Suellen had married him, do you think she’d ever have spent a penny on Tara or any of us?”
“I said you could be right takin’ when you wanted to,” said Will, turning to her with a quiet grin. “No, I don’t think we’d ever seen a penny of old Frank’s money. But still there’s no gettin’ ‘round it, it was a scurvy trick and if you want to justify the end by the means, it’s none of my business and who am I to complain? But just the same Suellen has been like a hornet ever since. I don’t think she cared much about old Frank but it kind of teched her vanity and she’s been sayin’ as how you had good clothes and a carriage and lived in Atlanta while she was buried here at Tara. She does love to go callin’ and to parties, you know, and wear pretty clothes. I ain’t blamin’ her. Women are like that.
“Well, about a month ago I took her into Jonesboro and left her to go callin’ while I tended to business and when I took her home, she was still as a mouse but I could see she was so excited she was ready to bust. I thought she’d found out somebody was goin’ to have a—that she’d heard some gossip that was interestin’, and I didn’t pay her much mind. She went around home for about a week all swelled up and excited and didn’t have much to say. She went over to see Miss Cathleen Calvert—Scarlett, you’d cry your eyes out at Miss Cathleen. Pore girl, she’d better be dead than married to that pusillanimous Yankee Hilton. You knew he’d mortaged the place and lost it and they’re goin’ to have to leave?”
“No, I didn’t know and I don’t want to know. I want to know about Pa.”
“Well, I’m gettin’ to that,” said Will patiently. “When she come back from over there she said we’d all misjudged Hilton, She called him Mr. Hilton and she said he was a smart man, but we just laughed at her. Then she took to takin’ your pa out to walk in the afternoons and lots of times when I was comin’ home from the field, I’d see her sittin’ with him on the wall ‘round the buryin’ ground, talkin’ at him hard and wavin’ her hands. And the old gentleman would just look at her sort of puzzled-like and shake his head. You know how he’s been, Scarlett. He just got kind of vaguer and vaguer, like he didn’t hardly know where he was or who we were. One time, I seen her point to your ma’s grave and the old gentleman begun to cry. And when she come in the house all happy and excited lookin’, I gave her a talkin’ to, right sharp, too, and I said: ‘Miss Suellen, why in hell are you devilin’ your poor pa and bringin’ up your ma to him? Most of the time he don’t realize she’s dead and here you are rubbin’ it in.’ And she just kind of tossed her head and laughed and said: ‘Mind your business. Some day you’ll be glad of what I’m doin’.’ Miss Melanie told me last night that Suellen had told her about her schemes but Miss Melly said she didn’t have no notion Suellen was serious. She said she didn’t tell none of us because she was so upset at the very idea.”
“What idea? Are you ever going to get to the point? We’re halfway home now. I want to know about Pa.”
“I’m trying to tell you,” said Will, “and we’re so near home, I guess I’d better stop right here till I’ve finished.”
He drew rein and the horse stopped and snorted. They had halted by the wild overgrown mock-orange hedge that marked the Macintosh property. Glancing under the dark trees Scarlett could just discern the tall ghostly chimneys still rearing above the silent ruin. She wished that Will had chosen any other place to stop.
“Well, the long and the short of her idea was to make the Yankees pay for the cotton they burned and the stock they drove off and the fences and the barns they tore down.”
“The Yankees?”
“Haven’t you heard about it? The Yankee government’s been payin’ claims on all destroyed property of Union sympathizers in the South.”
“Of course I’ve heard about that,” said Scarlett “But what’s that got to do with us?”
“A heap, in Suellen’s opinion. That day I took her to Jonesboro, she run into Mrs. Macintosh and when they were gossipin’ along, Suellen couldn’t help noticin’ what fine-lookin’ clothes Mrs. Macintosh had on and she couldn’t help askin’ about them. Then Mrs. Macintosh gave herself a lot of airs and said as how her husband had put in a claim with the Federal government for destroyin’ the property of a loyal Union sympathizer who had never given aid and comfort to the Confederacy in any shape or form.”
“They never gave aid and comfort to anybody,” snapped Scarlett. “Scotch-Irish!”
“Well, maybe that’s true. I don’t know them. Anyway, the government gave them, well—I forget how many thousand dollars. A right smart sum it was, though. That started Suellen. She thought about it all week and didn’t say nothin’ to us because she knew we’d just laugh. But she just had to talk to somebody so she went over to Miss Cathleen’s and that damned white trash, Hilton, gave her a passel of new ideas. He pointed out that your pa warn’t even born in this country, that he hadn’t fought in the war and hadn’t had no sons to fight, and hadn’t never held no office under the Confederacy. He said they could strain a point about Mr. O’Hara bein’ a loyal Union sympathizer. He filled her up with such truck and she come home and begun workin’ on Mr. O’Hara. Scarlett, I bet my life your pa didn’t even know half the time what she was talkin’ about. That was what she was countin’ on, that he would take the Iron Clad oath and not even know it.”
“Pa take the Iron Clad oath!” cried Scarlett.
“Well, he’d gotten right feeble in his mind these last months and I guess she was countin’ on that. Mind you, none of us sospicioned nothin’ about it. We knew she was cookin’ up somethin’, but we didn’t know she was usin’ your dead ma to reproach him for his daughters bein’ in rags when he could get a hundred and fifty thousand dollars out of the Yankees.”
“One hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” murmured Scarlett, her horror at the oath fading.
What a lot of money that was! And to be had for the mere signing of an oath of allegiance to the United States government, an oath stating that the signer had always supported the government and never given aid and comfort to its enemies. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars! That much money for that small a lie! Well, she couldn’t blame Suellen. Good heavens! Was that what Alex meant by wanting to rawhide her? What the County meant by intending to cut her? Fools, every one of them. What couldn’t she do with that much money! What couldn’t any of the folks in the County do with it! And what did so small a lie matter? After all, anything you could get out of the Yankees was fair money, no matter how you got it.
“Yesterday, about noon when Ashley and me were splittin’ rails, Suellen got this wagon and got your pa in it and off they went to town without a word to anybody. Miss Melly had a notion what it was all about but she was prayin’ somethin’ would change Suellen, so she didn’t say nothin’ to the rest of us. She just didn’t see how Suellen could do such a thing.
“Today I heard all about what happened. That pusillanimous fellow, Hilton, had some influence with the other Scalawags and Republicans in town and Suellen had agreed to give them some of the money—I don’t know how much—if they’d kind of wink their eye about Mr. O’Hara bein’ a loyal Union man and play on how he was an Irishman and didn’t fight in the army and so on, and sign recommendations. All your pa had to do was take the oath and sign the paper and off it would go to Washington.
“They rattled off the oath real fast and he didn’t say nothin’ and it went right well till she got him up to the signin’ of it. And then the old gentleman kind of come to himself for a minute and shook his head. I don’t think he knew what it was all about but he didn’t like it and Suellen always did rub him the wrong way. Well, that just about gave her the nervous fits after all the trouble she’d gone to. She took him out of the office and rode him up and down the road and talked to him about your ma cryin’ out of her grave at him for lettin’ her children suffer when he could provide for them. They tell me your pa sat there in the wagon and cried like a baby, like he always does when he hears her name. Everybody in town saw them and Alex Fontaine went over to see what was the matter, but Suellen gave him the rough side of her tongue and told him to mind his own business, so he went off mad.
“I don’t know where she got the notion but some time in the afternoon she got a bottle of brandy and took Mr. O’Hara back to the office and begun pourin’ it for him. Scarlett, we haven’t had no spirits ‘round Tara for a year, just a little blackberry wine and scuppernong wine Dilcey makes, and Mr. O’Hara warn’t used to it. He got real drunk, and after Suellen had argued and nagged a couple of hours he gave in and said Yes, he’d sign anything she wanted. They got the oath out again and just as he was about to put pen to paper, Suellen made her mistake. She said: ‘Well, now. I guess the Slatterys and the Macintoshes won’t be givin’ themselves airs over us!’ You see, Scarlett, the Slatterys had put in a claim for a big amount for that little shack of theirs that the Yankees burned and Emmie’s husband had got it through Washington for them.
“They tell me that when Suellen said those names, your pa kind of straightened up and squared his shoulders and looked at her, sharp-like. He warn’t vague no more and he said: ‘Have the Slatterys and the Macintoshes signed somethin’ like this?’ and Suellen got nervous and said Yes and No and stuttered and he shouted right loud: Tell me, did that God-damned Orangeman and that God-damned poor white sign somethin’ like this?’ And that feller Hilton spoke up smooth-like and said: ‘Yes sir, they did and they got a pile of money like you’ll get.’
“And then the old gentleman let out a roar like a bull. Alex Fontaine said he heard him from down the street at the saloon. And he said with a brogue you could cut with a butterknife: ‘And were ye afther thinkin’ an O’Hara of Tara would be follyin’ the dirthy thracks of a God-damned Orangeman and a God-damned poor white?’ And he tore the paper in two and threw it in Suellen’s face and he bellowed: ‘Ye’re no daughter of mine!’ and he was out of the office before you could say Jack Robinson.
“Alex said he saw him come out on the street, chargin’ like a bull. He said the old gentleman looked like his old self for the first time since your ma died. Said he was reelin’ drunk and cussin’ at the top of his lungs. Alex said he never heard such fine cussin’. Alex’s horse was standin’ there and your pa climbed on it without a by-your-leave and off he went in a cloud of dust so thick it choked you, cussin’ every breath he drew.
“Well, about sundown Ashley and me were sittin’ on the front step, lookin’ down the road and ‘mighty worried. Miss Melly was upstairs cryin’ on her bed and wouldn’t tell us nothin’. Terrectly, we heard a poundin’ down the road and somebody yellin’ like they was fox huntin’ and Ashley said: That’s queer! That sounds like Mr. O’Hara when he used to ride over to see us before the war.’
“And then we seen him way down at the end of the pasture. He must have jumped the fence right over there. And he come ridin’ hell-for-leather up the hill, singin’ at the top of his voice like he didn’t have a care in the world. I didn’t know your pa had such a voice. He was singin’ ‘Peg in a Low-backed Car’ and beatin’ the horse with his hat and the horse was goin’ like mad. He didn’t draw rein when he come near the top and we seen he was goin’ to jump the pasture fence and we hopped up, scared to death, and then he yelled: ‘Look, Ellen! Watch me take this one!’ But the horse stopped right on his haunches at the fence and wouldn’t take the jump and your pa went right over his head. He didn’t suffer none. He was dead time we got to him. I guess it broke his neck.”
Will waited a minute for her to speak and when she did not he picked up the reins. “Giddap, Sherman,” he said, and the horse started on toward home.

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