飘-第47章

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　For　some　months；　he　was　the　most　popular　and　romantic　figure　the　town　knew；　despite　his　previous　reputation；　despite　the　faint　rumors　that　he　was　engaged　not　only　in　blockading　but　in　speculating　on　foodstuffs；　too。　People　who　did　not　like　him　said　that　after　every　trip　he　made　to　Atlanta；　prices　jumped　five　dollars。　But　even　with　this　under…cover　gossip　seeping　about；　he　could　have　retained　his　popularity　had　he　considered　it　worth　retaining。　Instead；　it　seemed　as　though；　after　trying　the　company　of　the　staid　and　patriotic　citizens　and　winning　their　respect　and　grudging　liking；　something　perverse　in　him　made　him　go　out　of　his　way　to　affront　them　and　show　them　that　his　conduct　had　been　only　a　masquerade　and　one　which　no　longer　amused　him。
　It　was　as　though　he　bore　an　impersonal　contempt　for　everyone　and　everything　in　the　South；　the　Confederacy　in　particular；　and　toot　no　pains　to　conceal　it。　It　was　his　remarks　about　the　Confederacy　that　made　Atlanta　look　at　him　first　in　bewilderment；　then　coolly　and　then　with　hot　rage。　Even　before　1862　passed　into　1863；　men　were　bowing　to　him　with　studied　frigidity　and　women　beginning　to　draw　their　daughters　to　their　sides　when　he　appeared　at　a　gathering。
　He　seemed　to　take　pleasure　not　only　in　affronting　the　sincere　and　red…hot　loyalties　of　Atlanta　but　in　presenting　himself　in　the　worst　possible　light。　When　well…meaning　people　complimented　him　on　his　bravery　in　running　the　blockade；　he　blandly　replied　that　he　was　always　frightened　when　in　danger；　as　frightened　as　were　the　brave　boys　at　the　front。　Everyone　knew　there　had　never　been　a　cowardly　Confederate　soldier　and　they　found　this　statement　peculiarly　irritating。　He　always　referred　to　the　soldiers　as　“our　brave　boys”　and　“our　heroes　in　gray”　and　did　it　in　such　a　way　as　to　convey　the　utmost　in　insult。　When　daring　young　ladies；　hoping　for　a　flirtation；　thanked　him　for　being　one　of　the　heroes　who　fought　for　them；　he　bowed　and　declared　that　such　was　not　the　case；　for　he　would　do　the　same　thing　for　Yankee　women　if　the　same　amount　of　money　were　involved。
　Since　Scarlett’s　first　meeting　with　him　in　Atlanta　on　the　night　of　the　bazaar；　he　had　talked　with　her　in　this　manner；　but　now　mere　was　a　thinly　veiled　note　of　mockery　in　his　conversations　with　everyone。　When　praised　for　his　services　to　the　Confederacy；　he　unfailingly　replied　that　blockading　was　a　business　with　him。　If　he　could　make　as　much　money　out　of　government　contracts；　he　would　say；　picking　out　with　his　eyes　those　who　had　government　contracts；　then　he　would　certainly　abandon　the　hazards　of　blockading　and　take　to　selling　shoddy　cloth；　sanded　sugar；　spoiled　flour　and　rotten　leather　to　the　Confederacy。
　Most　of　his　remarks　were　unanswerable；　which　made　them　all　the　worse。　There　had　already　been　minor　scandals　about　those　holding　government　contracts。　Letters　from　men　at　the　front　complained　constantly　of　shoes　that　wore　out　in　a　week；　gunpowder　that　would　not　ignite；　harness　that　snapped　at　any　strain；　meat　that　was　rotten　and　flour　that　was　full　of　weevils。　Atlanta　people　tried　to　think　that　the　men　who　sold　such　stuff　to　the　government　must　be　contract　holders　from　Alabama　or　Virginia　or　Tennessee；　and　not　Georgians。　For　did　not　the　Georgia　contract　holders　include　men　from　the　very　best　families？　Were　they　not　the　first　to　contribute　to　the　hospital　funds　and　to　the　aid　of　soldiers’　orphans？　Were　they　not　the　first　to　cheer　at　“Dixie”　and　the　most　rampant　seekers；　in　oratory　at　least；　for　Yankee　blood？　The　full　tide　of　fury　against　those　profiteering　on　government　contracts　had　not　yet　risen；　and　Rhett’s　words　were　taken　merely　as　evidence　of　his　own　bad　breeding。
　He　not　only　affronted　the　town　with　insinuations　of　venality　on　the　part　of　men　in　high　places　and　slurs　on　the　courage　of　the　men　in　the　field；　but　he　took　pleasure　in　tricking　the　dignified　citizenry　into　embarrassing　situations。　He　could　no　more　resist　pricking　the　conceits；　the　hypocrisies　and　the　flamboyant　patriotism　of　those　about　him　than　a　small　boy　can　resist　putting　a　pin　into　a　balloon。　He　neatly　deflated　the　pompous　and　exposed　the　ignorant　and　the　bigoted；　and　he　did　it　in　such　subtle　ways；　drawing　his　victims　out　by　his　seemingly　courteous　interest；　that　they　never　were　quite　certain　what　had　happened　until　they　stood　exposed　as　windy；　high　flown　and　slightly　ridiculous。
　During　the　months　when　the　town　accepted　him；　Scarlett　had　been　under　no　illusions　about　him。　She　knew　that　his　elaborate　gallantries　and　his　florid　speeches　were　all　done　with　his　tongue　in　his　cheek。　She　knew　that　he　was　acting　the　part　of　the　dashing　and　patriotic　blockade　runner　simply　because　it　amused　him。　Sometimes　he　seemed　to　her　like　the　County　boys　with　whom　she　had　grown　up；　the　wild　Tarleton　twins　with　their　obsession　for　practical　jokes：　the　devil…inspired　Fontaines；　teasing；　mischievous；　the　Calverts　who　would　sit　up　all　night　planning　hoaxes。　But　there　was　a　difference；　for　beneath　Rhett’s　seeming　lightness　there　was　something　malicious；　almost　sinister　in　its　suave　brutality。
　Though　she　was　thoroughly　aware　of　his　insincerity；　she　much　preferred　him　in　the　role　of　the　romantic　blockader。　For　one　thing；　it　made　her　own　situation　in　associating　with　him　so　much　easier　than　it　had　been　at　first。　So；　she　was　intensely　annoyed　when　he　dropped　his　masquerade　and　set　out　apparently　upon　a　deliberate　campaign　to　alienate　Atlanta’s　good　will。　It　annoyed　her　because　it　seemed　foolish　and　also　because　some　of　the　harsh　criticism　directed　at　him　fell　on　her。
　It　was　at　Mrs。　Elsing’s　silver　musicale　for　the　benefit　of　the　convalescents　that　Rhett　signed　his　final　warrant　of　ostracism。　That　afternoon　the　Elsing　home　was　crowded　with　soldiers　on　leave　and　men　from　the　hospitals；　members　of　the　Home　Guard　and　the　militia　unit；　and　matrons；　widows　and　young　girls。　Every　chair　in　the　house　was　occupied；　and　even　the　long　winding　stair　was　packed　with　guests。　The　large　cut…glass　bowl　held　at　the　door　by　the　Elsings’　butler　had　been　emptied　twice　of　its　burden　of　silver　coins：　That　in　itself　was　enough　to　make　the　affair　a　success；　for　now　a　dollar　in　silver　was　worth　sixty　dollars　in　Confederate　paper　money。
　Every　girl　with　any　pretense　to　accomplishments　had　sung　or　played　the　piano；　and　the　tableaux　vivants　had　been　greeted　with　flattering　applause。　Scarlett　was　much　pleased　with　herself；　for　not　only　had　she　and　Melanie　rendered　a　touching　duet；　“When　the　Dew　Is　on　the　Blossom；”　followed　as　an　encore　by　the　more　sprightly　“Oh；　Lawd；　Ladies；　Don’t　Mind　Stephen！”　but　she　had　also　been　chosen　to　represent　the　Spirit　of　the　Confederacy　in　the　last　tableau。
　She　had　looked　most　fetching；　wearing　a　modestly　draped　Greek　robe　of　white　cheesecloth　girdled　with　red　and　blue　and　holding　the　Stars　and　Bars　in　one　hand；　while　with　the　other　she　stretched　out　to　the　kneeling　Captain　Carey　Ashburn；　of　Alabama；　the　gold…hilted　saber　which　had　belonged　to　Charles　and　his　father。
　When　her　tableau　was　over；　she　could　not　help　seeking　Rhett’s　eyes　to　see　if　he　had　appreciated　the　pretty　picture　she　made。　With　a　feeling　of　exasperation　she　saw　that　he　was　in　an　argument　and　probably　had　not　even　noticed　her。　Scarlett　could　see　by　the　faces　of　the　group　surrounding　him　that　they　were　infuriated　by　what　he　was　saying。
　She　made　her　way　toward　them　and；　in　one　of　those　odd　silences　which　sometimes　fall　on　a　gathering；　she　heard　Willie　Guinan；　of　the　militia　outfit；　say　plainly：　“Do　I　understand；　sir；　that　you　mean　the　Cause　for　which　our　heroes　have　died　is　not　sacred？”
　“If　you　were　run　over　by　a　railroad　train　your　death　wouldn’t　sanctify　the　railroad　company；　would　it？”　asked　Rhett；　and　his　voice　sounded　as　if　he　were　humbly　seeking　information。
　“Sir；”　said　Willie；　his　voice　shaking；　“if　we　were　not　under　this　roof—”
　“I　tremble　to　think　what　would　happen；”　said　Rhett。　“For；　of　course；　your　bravery　is　too　well　known。”
　Willie　went　scarlet　and　all　conversation　ceased。　Everyone　was　embarrassed。　Willie　was　strong　and　healthy　and　of　military　age　and　yet　he　wasn’t　at　the　front。　Of　course；　he　was　the　only　boy　his　mother　had　and；　after　all；　somebody　had　to　be　in　the　militia　to　protect　the　state。　But　there　were　a　few　irreverent　snickers　from　convalescent　officers　when　Rhett　spoke　of　bravery。
　“Oh；　why　doesn’t　he　keep　his　mouth　shut！”　thought　Scarlett　indignantly。　“He’s　simply　spoiling　the　whole　party！”
　Dr。　Meade’s　brows　were　thunderous。
　“Nothing　may　be　sacred　to　you；　young　man；”　he　said；　in　the　voice　he　always　used　when　making　speeches。　“But　there　are　many　things　sacred　to　the　patriotic　men　and　ladies　of　the　South。　And　the　freedom　of　our　land　from　the　usurper　is　one　and　States’　Rights　is　another　and—”
　Rhett　looked　lazy　and　his　voice　had　a　silky；　almost　bored；　note。
　“All　wars　are　sacred；”　he　said。　“To　those　who　have　to　fight　them。　If　the　people　who　started　wars　didn’t　make　them　sacred；　who　would　be　foolish　enough　to　fight？　But；　no　matter　what　rallying　cries　the　orators　give　to　the　idiots　who　fight；　no　matter　what　noble　purposes　they　assign　to　wars；　there　is　never　but　one　reason　for　a　war。　And　that　is　money。　All　wars　are　in　reality　money　squabbles。　But　so　few　people　ever　realize　it。　Their　ears　are　too　full　of　bugles　and　drums　and　the　fine　words　from　stay…at…home　orators。　Sometimes　the　rallying　cry　is　‘Save　the　Tomb　of　Christ　from　the　Heathen！’　Sometimes　it’s　‘Down　with　Popery！’　and　sometimes　‘Liberty！’　and　sometimes　‘Cotton；　Slavery　and　States’　Rights！’　”
　“What　on　earth　has　the　Pope　to　do　with　it？”　thought　Scarlett。　“Or　Christ’s　tomb；　either？”
　But　as　she　hurried　toward　the　incensed　group；　she　saw　Rhett　bow　jauntily　and　start　toward　the　doorway　through　the　crowd。　She　started　after　him　but　Mrs。　Elsing　caught　her　skirt　and　held　her。
　“Let　him　go；”　she　said　in　a　clear　voice　that　carried　throughout　the　tensely　quiet　room。　“Let　him　go。　He　is　a　traitor；　a　speculator！　He　is　a　viper　that　we　have　nursed　to　our　bosoms！”
　Rhett；　standing　in　the　hall；　his　hat　in　his　hand；　heard　as　he　was　intended　to　hear　and；　turning；　surveyed　the　room　for　a　moment。　He　looked　pointedly　at　Mrs。　Elsing’s　flat　bosom；　grinned　suddenly　and；　bowing；　made　his　exit。
　
　Mrs。　Merriwether　rode　home　in　Aunt　Pitty’s　carriage；　and　scarcely　had　the　four　ladies　seated　themselves　when　she　exploded。
　“There　now；　Pittypat　Hamilton！　I　hope　you　are　satisfied！”
　“With　what？”　cried　Pitty；　apprehensively。
　“With　the　conduct　of　that　wretched　Butler　man　you’ve　been　harboring。”
　Pittypat　fluttered；　too　upset　by　the　accusation　to　recall　that　Mrs。　Merriwether　had　also　been　Rhett　Butler’s　hostess　on　several　occasions。　Scarlett　and　Melanie　thought　of　this；　but　bred　to　politeness　to　their　elders；　refrained　from　remarking　on　the　matter。　Instead　they　studiously　looked　down　at　their　mittened　hands。
　“He　insulted　us　all　and　the　Confederacy　too；”　said　Mrs。　Merriwether；　and　her　stout　bust　heaved　violently　beneath　its　glittering　passementerie　trimmings。　“Saying　that　we　were　fighting　for　money！　Saying　that　our　leaders　had　lied　to　us！　He　should　be　put　in　jail。　Yes；　he　should。　I　shall　speak　to　Dr。　Meade　about　it。　If　Mr。　Merriwether　were　only　alive；　he’d　tend　to　him！　Now；　Pitty　Hamilton；　you　listen　to　me。　Yo