She had started to say: I’d cut up my heart for you to wear if you wanted it,” but she finished, “I’d do anything for you!”
“Would you?” he questioned and some of the somber-ness lifted from his face. “Then, there’s something you can do for me, Scarlett, something that will make my mind easier when I’m away.”
“What is it?” she asked joyfully, ready to promise prodigies.
“Scarlett, will you look after Melanie for me?”
“Look after Melly?”
Her heart sank with bitter disappointment. So this was something beautiful, something spectacular! And then anger flared. This moment was her moment with Ashley, hers alone. And yet, though Melanie was absent, her pale shadow lay between them. How could he bring up her name in their moment of farewell? How could he ask such a thing of her?
He did not notice the disappointment on her face. As of old, his eyes were looking through her and beyond her, at something else, not seeing her at all.
“Yes, keep an eye on her, take care of her. She’s so frail and she doesn’t realize it. She’ll wear herself out nursing and sewing. And she’s so gentle and timid. Except for Aunt Pittypat and Uncle Henry and you, she hasn’t a close relative in the world, except the Burrs in Macon and they’re third cousins. And Aunt Pitty—Scarlett, you know she’s like a child. And Uncle Henry is an old man. Melanie loves you so much, not just because you were Charlie’s wife, but because—well, because you’re you and she loves you like a sister. Scarlett, I have nightmares when I think what might happen to her if I were killed and she had no one to turn to. Will you promise?”
She did not even hear his last request, so terrified was she by those ill-omened words, “if I were killed.”
Every day she had read the casualty lists, read them with her heart in her throat, knowing that the world would end if anything should happen to him. But always, always, she had an inner feeling that even if the Confederate Army were entirely wiped out, Ashley would be spared. And now he had spoken the frightful words! Goose bumps came out all over her and fear swamped her, a superstitious fear she could not combat with reason. She was Irish enough to believe in second sight, especially where death premonitions were concerned, and in his wide gray eyes she saw some deep sadness which she could only interpret as that of a man who has felt the cold finger on his shoulder, has heard the wail of the Banshee.
“You mustn’t say it! You mustn’t even think it It’s bad luck to speak of death! Oh, say a prayer, quickly!”
“You say it for me and light some candles, too,” he said, smiling at the frightened urgency in her voice.
But she could not answer, so stricken was she by the pictures her mind was drawing, Ashley lying dead in the snows of Virginia, so far away from her. He went on speaking and there was a quality in his voice, a sadness, a resignation, that increased her fear until every vestige of anger and disappointment was blotted out.
“I’m asking you for this reason, Scarlett I cannot tell what will happen to me or what will happen to any of us. But when the end comes, I shall be far away from here, even if I am alive, too far away to look out for Melanie.”
“The—the end?”
“The end of the war—and the end of the world.”
“But Ashley, surely you can’t think the Yankees win beat us? All this week you’ve talked about how strong General Lee—”
“All this week I’ve talked lies, like all men talk when they’re on furlough. Why should I frighten Melanie and Aunt Pitty before there’s any need for them to be frightened? Yes, Scarlett, I think the Yankees have us. Gettysburg was the beginning of the end. The people back home don’t know it yet. They can’t realize how things stand with us, but—Scarlett, some of my men are barefooted now and the snow is deep in Virginia. And when I see their poor frozen feet, wrapped in rags and old sacks, and I see the blood prints they leave in the snow, and know that I’ve got a whole pair of boots—well, I feel like I should give mine away and be barefooted too.”
“Oh, Ashley, promise me you won’t give them away!”
“When I see things like that and then look at the Yankees—then I see the end of everything. Why, Scarlett, the Yankees are buying soldiers from Europe by the thousands! Most of the prisoners we’ve taken recently can’t even speak English. They’re Germans and Poles and wild Irishmen who talk Gaelic. But when we lose a man, he can’t be replaced. When our shoes wear out, there are no more shoes. We’re bottled up, Scarlett. And we can’t fight the whole world.”
She thought wildly: Let the whole Confederacy crumble in the dust. Let the world end, but you must not die! I couldn’t live if you were dead!
“I hope you will not repeat what I have said, Scarlett. I do not want to alarm the others. And, my dear, I would not have alarmed you by saying these things, were it not that I had to explain why I ask you to look after Melanie. She’s so frail and weak and you’re so strong, Scarlett. It will be a comfort to me to know that you are together if anything happens to me. You will promise, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes!” she cried, for at that moment, seeing death at his elbow, she would have promised anything. “Ashley, Ashley! I can’t let you go away! I simply can’t be brave about it!”
“You must be brave,” he said, and his voice changed subtly. It was resonant, deeper, and his words fell swiftly as though hurried with some inner urgency. “You must be brave. For how else can I stand it?”
Her eyes sought his face quickly and with joy, wondering if he meant that leaving her was breaking his heart, even as it was breaking hers. His face was as drawn as when he came down from bidding Melanie good-by, but she could read nothing in his eyes. He leaned down, took her face in his hands, and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
“Scarlett! Scarlett! You are so fine and strong and good. So beautiful, not just your sweet face, my dear, but all of you, your body and your mind and your soul.”
“Oh, Ashley,” she whispered happily, thrilling at his words and his touch on her face. “Nobody else but you ever—”