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"
You
might
call
it
a
pardon
.
"
His
thick
gray
brows
writhed
together
as
though
the
effort
of
stringing
words
together
was
difficult
.
"
'
Long
in
'
sixty-four
when
Sherman
come
through
,
I
was
at
Milledgeville
jail
,
like
I
had
been
for
forty
years
.
And
the
warden
he
called
all
us
prisoners
together
and
he
says
the
Yankees
are
a-comin
'
a-burnin
'
and
a-killin
'
.
Now
if
thar
's
one
thing
I
hates
worse
than
a
nigger
or
a
woman
,
it
's
a
Yankee
.
"
"
Why
?
Had
you
--
Did
you
ever
know
any
Yankees
?
"
"
No
'm
.
But
I
'd
hearn
tell
of
them
.
I
'd
hearn
tell
they
could
n't
never
mind
their
own
bizness
.
I
hates
folks
who
ca
n't
mind
their
own
bizness
.
What
was
they
doin
'
in
Georgia
,
freein
'
our
niggers
and
burnin
'
our
houses
and
killin
'
our
stock
?
Well
,
the
warden
he
said
the
army
needed
more
soldiers
bad
,
and
any
of
us
who
'd
jine
up
would
be
free
at
the
end
of
the
war
--
if
we
come
out
alive
.
But
us
lifers
--
us
murderers
,
the
warden
he
said
the
army
did
n't
want
us
.
We
was
to
be
sont
somewheres
else
to
another
jail
.
But
I
said
to
the
warden
I
ai
n't
like
most
lifers
.
I
'm
just
in
for
killin
'
my
wife
and
she
needed
killin
'
.
And
I
wants
to
fight
the
Yankees
.
And
the
warden
he
saw
my
side
of
it
and
he
slipped
me
out
with
the
other
prisoners
.
"
He
paused
and
grunted
.
"
Huh
.
That
was
right
funny
.
They
put
me
in
jail
for
killin
'
and
they
let
me
out
with
a
gun
in
my
hand
and
a
free
pardon
to
do
more
killin
'
.
It
shore
was
good
to
be
a
free
man
with
a
rifle
in
my
hand
again
.
Us
men
from
Milledgeville
did
good
fightin
'
and
killin
'
--
and
a
lot
of
us
was
kilt
.
I
never
knowed
one
who
deserted
.
And
when
the
surrender
come
,
we
was
free
.
I
lost
this
here
leg
and
this
here
eye
.
But
I
ai
n't
sorry
.
"
"
Oh
,
"
said
Scarlett
,
weakly
.
She
tried
to
remember
what
she
had
heard
about
the
releasing
of
the
Milledgeville
convicts
in
that
last
desperate
effort
to
stem
the
tide
of
Sherman
's
army
.
Frank
had
mentioned
it
that
Christmas
of
1864
.
What
had
he
said
?
But
her
memories
of
that
time
were
too
chaotic
.
Again
she
felt
the
wild
terror
of
those
days
,
heard
the
siege
guns
,
saw
the
line
of
wagons
dripping
blood
into
the
red
roads
,
saw
the
Home
Guard
marching
off
,
the
little
cadets
and
the
children
like
Phil
Meade
and
the
old
men
like
Uncle
Henry
and
Grandpa
Merriwether
.
And
the
convicts
had
marched
out
too
,
to
die
in
the
twilight
of
the
Confederacy
,
to
freeze
in
the
snow
and
sleet
of
that
last
campaign
in
Tennessee
.
For
a
brief
moment
she
thought
what
a
fool
this
old
man
was
,
to
fight
for
a
state
which
had
taken
forty
years
from
his
life
.
Georgia
had
taken
his
youth
and
his
middle
years
for
a
crime
that
was
no
crime
to
him
,
yet
he
had
freely
given
a
leg
and
an
eye
to
Georgia
.
