opportunity of beautifying their ladies at a very trifling expense."
Fairway, Sam, and another placed their shillings on the table, and the
man turned to Christian.
"No, sir," said Christian, drawing back, with a quick gaze of
misgiving. "I am only a poor chap come to look on, an it please ye,
sir. I don't so much as know how you do it. If so be I was sure of
getting it I would put down the shilling; but I couldn't otherwise."
"I think you might almost be sure," said the pedlar. "In fact, now I
look into your face, even if I can't say you are sure to win, I can
say that I never saw anything look more like winning in my life."
"You'll anyhow have the same chance as the rest of us," said Sam.
"And the extra luck of being the last comer," said another.
"And I was born wi' a caul, and perhaps can be no more ruined than
drowned?" Christian added, beginning to give way.
Ultimately Christian laid down his shilling, the raffle began, and
the dice went round. When it came to Christian's turn he took the box
with a trembling hand, shook it fearfully, and threw a pair-royal.
Three of the others had thrown common low pairs, and all the rest mere
points.
"The gentleman looked like winning, as I said," observed the chapman
blandly. "Take it, sir; the article is yours."
"Haw-haw-haw!" said Fairway. "I'm damned if this isn't the quarest
start that ever I knowed!"
"Mine?" asked Christian, with a vacant stare from his target eyes.
"I - I haven't got neither maid, wife, nor widder belonging to me at
all, and I'm afeard it will make me laughed at to ha'e it, Master
Traveller. What with being curious to join in I never thought of that!
What shall I do wi' a woman's clothes in my bedroom, and not lose my
decency!"
"Keep 'em, to be sure," said Fairway, "if it is only for luck.
Perhaps 'twill tempt some woman that thy poor carcase had no power
over when standing empty-handed."
"Keep it, certainly," said Wildeve, who had idly watched the scene
from a distance.
The table was then cleared of the articles, and the men began to
drink.
"Well, to be sure!" said Christian, half to himself. "To think I
should have been born so lucky as this, and not have found it out
until now! What curious creatures these dice be - powerful rulers of
us all, and yet at my command! I am sure I never need be afeared of
anything after this." He handled the dice fondly one by one. "Why,
sir," he said in a confidential whisper to Wildeve, who was near his
left hand, "if I could only use this power that's in me of multiplying
money I might do some good to a near relation of yours, seeing what
I've got about me of hers - eh?" He tapped one of his money-laden boots
upon the floor.
"What do you mean?" said Wildeve.
"That's a secret. Well, I must be going now." He looked anxiously
towards Fairway.
"Where are you going?" Wildeve asked.
"To Mistover Knap. I have to see Mrs. Thomasin there - that's all."
"I am going there, too, to fetch Mrs. Wildeve. We can walk together."
Wildeve became lost in thought, and a look of inward illumination came
into his eyes. It was money for his wife that Mrs. Yeobright could
not trust him with. "Yet she could trust this fellow," he said to
himself. "Why doesn't that which belongs to the wife belong to the
husband too?"
He called to the pot-boy to bring him his hat, and said, "Now,
Christian, I am ready."
"Mr. Wildeve," said Christian timidly, as he turned to leave the room,
"would you mind lending me them wonderful little things that carry my
luck inside 'em, that I might practise a bit by myself, you know?" He
looked wistfully at the dice and box lying on the mantlepiece.
"Certainly," said Wildeve carelessly. "They were only cut out by some
lad with his knife, and are worth nothing." And Christian went back
and privately pocketed them.
Wildeve opened the door and looked out. The night was warm and
cloudy. "By Gad! 'tis dark," he continued. "But I suppose we shall
find our way."
"If we should lose the path it might be awkward," said Christian. "A
lantern is the only shield that will make it safe for us."
"Let's have a lantern by all means." The stable lantern was fetched
and lighted. Christian took up his gownpiece, and the two set out to
ascend the hill.
Within the room the men fell into chat till their attention was for a
moment drawn to the chimney-corner. This was large, and, in addition
to its proper recess, contained within its jambs, like many on
Egdon, a receding seat, so that a person might sit there absolutely
unobserved, provided there was no fire to light him up, as was the
case now and throughout the summer. From the niche a single object
protruded into the light from the candles on the table. It was a clay
pipe, and its colour was reddish. The men had been attracted to this
object by a voice behind the pipe asking for a light.
"Upon my life, it fairly startled me when the man spoke!" said
Fairway, handing a candle. "Oh - 'tis the reddleman! You've kept a
quiet tongue, young man."
"Yes, I had nothing to say," observed Venn. In a few minutes he arose
and wished the company good night.
Meanwhile Wildeve and Christian had plunged into the heath.
It was a stagnant, warm, and misty night, full of all the heavy
perfumes of new vegetation not yet dried by hot sun, and among
these particularly the scent of the fern. The lantern, dangling
from Christian's hand, brushed the feathery fronds in passing by,
disturbing moths and other winged insects, which flew out and alighted
upon its horny panes.
"So you have money to carry to Mrs. Wildeve?" said Christian's
companion, after a silence. "Don't you think it very odd that it
shouldn't be given to me?"
"As man and wife be one flesh, 'twould have been all the same, I
should think," said Christian. "But my strict documents was, to give
the money into Mrs. Wildeve's hand - and 'tis well to do things right."
"No doubt," said Wildeve. Any person who had known the circumstances
might have perceived that Wildeve was mortified by the discovery that
the matter in transit was money, and not, as he had supposed when at
Blooms-End, some fancy nick-nack which only interested the two women
themselves. Mrs. Yeobright's refusal implied that his honour was not
considered to be of sufficiently good quality to make him a safer
bearer of his wife's property.
"How very warm it is tonight, Christian!" he said, panting, when they
were nearly under Rainbarrow. "Let us sit down for a few minutes, for
Heaven's sake."
Wildeve flung himself down on the soft ferns; and Christian, placing
the lantern and parcel on the ground, perched himself in a cramped
position hard by, his knees almost touching his chin. He presently
thrust one hand into his coat-pocket and began shaking it about.
"What are you rattling in there?" said Wildeve.
"Only the dice, sir," said Christian, quickly withdrawing his hand.
"What magical machines these little things be, Mr. Wildeve! 'Tis a
game I should never get tired of. Would you mind my taking 'em out
and looking at 'em for a minute, to see how they are made? I didn't
like to look close before the other men, for fear they should think it
bad manners in me." Christian took them out and examined them in the
hollow of his hand by the lantern light. "That these little things
should carry such luck, and such charm, and such a spell, and such
power in 'em, passes all I ever heard or zeed," he went on, with a
fascinated gaze at the dice, which, as is frequently the case in
country places, were made of wood, the points being burnt upon each
face with the end of a wire.
"They are a great deal in a small compass, You think?"
"Yes. Do ye suppose they really be the devil's playthings, Mr.
Wildeve? If so, 'tis no good sign that I be such a lucky man."
"You ought to win some money, now that you've got them. Any woman
would marry you then. Now is your time, Christian, and I would
recommend you not to let it slip. Some men are born to luck, some are
not. I belong to the latter class."
"Did you ever know anybody who was born to it besides myself?"
"O yes. I once heard of an Italian, who sat down at a gaming table
with only a louis (that's a foreign sovereign) in his pocket. He
played on for twenty-four hours, and won ten thousand pounds,
stripping the bank he had played against. Then there was another man
who had lost a thousand pounds, and went to the broker's next day to
sell stock, that he might pay the debt. The man to whom he owed the
money went with him in a hackney-coach; and to pass the time they
tossed who should pay the fare. The ruined man won, and the other was
tempted to continue the game, and they played all the way. When the
coachman stopped he was told to drive home again: the whole thousand
pounds had been won back by the man who was going to sell."
"Ha - ha - splendid!" exclaimed Christian. "Go on - go on!"
"Then there was a man of London, who was only a waiter at White's
clubhouse. He began playing first half-crown stakes, and then higher
and higher, till he became very rich, got an appointment in India,
and rose to be Governor of Madras. His daughter married a member of
Parliament, and the Bishop of Carlisle stood godfather to one of the
children."
"Wonderful! wonderful!"
"And once there was a young man in America who gambled till he had
lost his last dollar. He staked his watch and chain, and lost as
before; staked his umbrella, lost again; staked his hat, lost again;
staked his coat and stood in his shirt-sleeve; lost again. Began
taking off his breeches, and then a looker-on gave him a trifle for
his pluck. With this he won. Won back his coat, won back his hat,
won back his umbrella, his watch, his money, and went out of the door
a rich man."
"Oh, 'tis too good - it takes away my breath! Mr. Wildeve, I think
I will try another shilling with you, as I am one of that sort; no
danger can come o't, and you can afford to lose."
"Very well," said Wildeve, rising. Searching about with the lantern,
he found a large flat stone, which he placed between himself and
Christian, and sat down again. The lantern was opened to give more
light, and it's rays directed upon the stone. Christian put down
a shilling, Wildeve another, and each threw. Christian won. They
played for two, Christian won again.
"Let us try four," said Wildeve. They played for four. This time the
stakes were won by Wildeve.
"Ah, those little accidents will, of course, sometimes happen, to the
luckiest man," he observed.
"And now I have no more money!" explained Christian excitedly. "And
yet, if I could go on, I should get it back again, and more. I wish
this was mine." He struck his boot upon the ground, so that the
guineas chinked within.
"What! you have not put Mrs. Wildeve's money there?"
"Yes. 'Tis for safety. Is it any harm to raffle with a married lady's
money when, if I win, I shall only keep my winnings, and give her her
own all the same; and if t'other man wins, her money will go to the
lawful owner?"
"None at all."
Wildeve had been brooding ever since they started on the mean
estimation in which he was held by his wife's friends; and it cut his
heart severely. As the minutes passed he had gradually drifted into a
revengeful intention without knowing the precise moment of forming it.
This was to teach Mrs. Yeobright a lesson, as he considered it to be;
in other words, to show her if he could, that her niece's husband was
the proper guardian of her niece's money.
"Well, here goes!" said Christian, beginning to unlace one boot. "I
shall dream of it nights and nights, I suppose; but I shall always
swear my flesh don't crawl when I think o't!"
He thrust his hand into the boot and withdrew one of poor Thomasin's
precious guineas, piping hot. Wildeve had already placed a sovereign
on the stone. The game was then resumed. Wildeve won first, and
Christian ventured another, winning himself this time. The game
fluctuated, but the average was in Wildeve's favour. Both men became
so absorbed in the game that they took no heed of anything but the
pigmy objects immediately beneath their eyes, the flat stone, the open
lantern, the dice, and the few illuminated fern-leaves which lay under
the light, were the whole world to them.
At length Christian lost rapidly; and presently, to his horror, the
whole fifty guineas belonging to Thomasin had been handed over to his
adversary.
"I don't care - I don't care!" he moaned, and desperately set about
untying his left boot to get at the other fifty. "The devil will toss
me into the flames on his three-pronged fork for this night's work,
I know! But perhaps I shall win yet, and then I'll get a wife to sit
up with me o' nights, and I won't be afeard, I won't! Here's another
for'ee, my man!" He slapped another guinea down upon the stone, and
the dice-box was rattled again.
Time passed on. Wildeve began to be as excited as Christian himself.
When commencing the game his intention had been nothing further than
a bitter practical joke on Mrs. Yeobright. To win the money, fairly
or otherwise, and to hand it contemptuously to Thomasin in her aunt's
presence, had been the dim outline of his purpose. But men are drawn
from their intentions even in the course of carrying them out, and
it was extremely doubtful, by the time the twentieth guinea had been
reached, whether Wildeve was conscious of any other intention than
that of winning for his own personal benefit. Moreover, he was now no
longer gambling for his wife's money, but for Yeobright's; though of
this fact Christian, in his apprehensiveness, did not inform him till
afterwards.
It was nearly eleven o'clock, when, with almost a shriek, Christian
placed Yeobright's last gleaming guinea upon the stone. In thirty
seconds it had gone the way of its companions.
Christian turned and flung himself on the ferns in a convulsion of
remorse, "O, what shall I do with my wretched self?" he groaned.
"What shall I do? Will any good Heaven hae mercy upon my wicked
soul?"
"Do? Live on just the same."
"I won't live on just the same! I'll die! I say you are a - a - "
"A man sharper than my neighbour."
"Yes, a man sharper than my neighbour; a regular sharper!"
"Poor chips-in-porridge, you are very unmannerly."
"I don't know about that! And I say you be unmannerly! You've got
money that isn't your own. Half the guineas are poor Mr. Clym's."
"How's that?"
"Because I had to gie fifty of 'em to him. Mrs. Yeobright said so."
"Oh?... Well, 'twould have been more graceful of her to have given
them to his wife Eustacia. But they are in my hands now."
Christian pulled on his boots, and with heavy breathings, which could
be heard to some distance, dragged his limbs together, arose, and
tottered away out of sight. Wildeve set about shutting the lantern to
return to the house, for he deemed it too late to go to Mistover to
meet his wife, who was to be driven home in the captain's four-wheel.
While he was closing the little horn door a figure rose from behind a
neighbouring bush and came forward into the lantern light. It was the
reddleman approaching.
VIII
A New Force Disturbs the Current
Wildeve stared. Venn looked coolly towards Wildeve, and, without a
word being spoken, he deliberately sat himself down where Christian
had been seated, thrust his hand into his pocket, drew out a
sovereign, and laid it on the stone.
"You have been watching us from behind that bush?" said Wildeve.
The reddleman nodded. "Down with your stake," he said. "Or haven't
you pluck enough to go on?"
Now, gambling is a species of amusement which is much more easily
begun with full pockets than left off with the same; and though
Wildeve in a cooler temper might have prudently declined this
invitation, the excitement of his recent success carried him
completely away. He placed one of the guineas on a slab beside the
reddleman's sovereign. "Mine is a guinea," he said.
"A guinea that's not your own," said Venn sarcastically.
"It is my own," answered Wildeve haughtily. "It is my wife's, and
what is hers is mine."
"Very well; let's make a beginning." He shook the box, and threw
eight, ten, and nine; the three casts amounted to twenty-seven.
This encouraged Wildeve. He took the box; and his three casts
amounted to forty-five.
Down went another of the reddleman's sovereigns against his first one
which Wildeve laid. This time Wildeve threw fifty-one points, but no
pair. The reddleman looked grim, threw a raffle of aces, and pocketed
the stakes.
"Here you are again," said Wildeve contemptuously. "Double the
stakes." He laid two of Thomasin's guineas, and the reddleman his two
pounds. Venn won again. New stakes were laid on the stone, and the
gamblers proceeded as before.
Wildeve was a nervous and excitable man, and the game was beginning
to tell upon his temper. He writhed, fumed, shifted his seat; and
the beating of his heart was almost audible. Venn sat with lips
impassively closed and eyes reduced to a pair of unimportant twinkles;
he scarcely appeared to breathe. He might have been an Arab, or an
automaton; he would have been like a red sandstone statue but for the
motion of his arm with the dice-box.
The game fluctuated, now in favour of one, now in favour of the other,
without any great advantage on the side of either. Nearly twenty
minutes were passed thus. The light of the candle had by this time
attracted heathflies, moths, and other winged creatures of night,
which floated round the lantern, flew into the flame, or beat about
the faces of the two players.
But neither of the men paid much attention to these things, their eyes
being concentrated upon the little flat stone, which to them was an
arena vast and important as a battlefield. By this time a change had
come over the game; the reddleman won continually. At length sixty
guineas - Thomasin's fifty, and ten of Clym's - had passed into his
hands. Wildeve was reckless, frantic, exasperated.
"'Won back his coat,'" said Venn slily.
Another throw, and the money went the same way.
"'Won back his hat,'" continued Venn.
"Oh, oh!" said Wildeve.
"'Won back his watch, won back his money, and went out of the door
a rich man,'" added Venn sentence by sentence, as stake after stake
passed over to him.
"Five more!" shouted Wildeve, dashing down the money. "And three
casts be hanged - one shall decide."
The red automaton opposite lapsed into silence, nodded, and followed
his example. Wildeve rattled the box, and threw a pair of sixes and
five points. He clapped his hands; "I have done it this
time - hurrah!"
"There are two playing, and only one has thrown," said the reddleman,
quietly bringing down the box. The eyes of each were then so intently
converged upon the stone that one could fancy their beams were
visible, like rays in a fog.
Venn lifted the box, and behold a triplet of sixes was disclosed.
Wildeve was full of fury. While the reddleman was grasping the stakes
Wildeve seized the dice and hurled them, box and all, into the
darkness, uttering a fearful imprecation. Then he arose and began
stamping up and down like a madman.
"It is all over, then?" said Venn.
"No, no!" cried Wildeve. "I mean to have another chance yet. I
must!"
"But, my good man, what have you done with the dice?"
"I threw them away - it was a momentary irritation. What a fool I am!
Here - come and help me to look for them - we must find them again."
Wildeve snatched up the lantern and began anxiously prowling among the
furze and fern.
"You are not likely to find them there," said Venn, following. "What
did you do such a crazy thing as that for? Here's the box. The dice
can't be far off."
Wildeve turned the light eagerly upon the spot where Venn had found
the box, and mauled the herbage right and left. In the course of a few
minutes one of the dice was found. They searched on for some time,
but no other was to be seen.
"Never mind," said Wildeve; "let's play with one."
"Agreed," said Venn.
Down they sat again, and recommenced with single guinea stakes; and
the play went on smartly. But Fortune had unmistakably fallen in love
with the reddleman tonight. He won steadily, till he was the owner of
fourteen more of the gold pieces. Seventy-nine of the hundred guineas
were his, Wildeve possessing only twenty-one. The aspect of the two
opponents was now singular. Apart from motions, a complete diorama
of the fluctuations of the game went on in their eyes. A diminutive
candle-flame was mirrored in each pupil, and it would have been
possible to distinguish therein between the moods of hope and the
moods of abandonment, even as regards the reddleman, though his facial
muscles betrayed nothing at all. Wildeve played on with the
recklessness of despair.
"What's that?" he suddenly exclaimed, hearing a rustle; and they both
looked up.
They were surrounded by dusky forms between four and five feet high,
standing a few paces beyond the rays of the lantern. A moment's
inspection revealed that the encircling figures were heath-croppers,
their heads being all towards the players, at whom they gazed
intently.
"Hoosh!" said Wildeve, and the whole forty or fifty animals at once
turned and galloped away. Play was again resumed.
Ten minutes passed away. Then a large death's head moth advanced from
the obscure outer air, wheeled twice round the lantern, flew straight
at the candle, and extinguished it by the force of the blow. Wildeve
had just thrown, but had not lifted the box to see what he had cast;
and now it was impossible.
"What the infernal!" he shrieked. "Now, what shall we do? Perhaps I
have thrown six - have you any matches?"
"None," said Venn.
"Christian had some - I wonder where he is. Christian!"
But there was no reply to Wildeve's shout, save a mournful whining
from the herons which were nesting lower down the vale. Both men
looked blankly round without rising. As their eyes grew accustomed to
the darkness they perceived faint greenish points of light among the
grass and fern. These lights dotted the hillside like stars of a low
magnitude.
"Ah - glowworms," said Wildeve. "Wait a minute. We can continue the
game."
Venn sat still, and his companion went hither and thither till he had
gathered thirteen glowworms - as many as he could find in a space of
four or five minutes - upon a foxglove leaf which he pulled for the
purpose. The reddleman vented a low humorous laugh when he saw his
adversary return with these. "Determined to go on, then?" he said
drily.
"I always am!" said Wildeve angrily. And shaking the glowworms from
the leaf he ranged them with a trembling hand in a circle on the
stone, leaving a space in the middle for the descent of the dice-box,
over which the thirteen tiny lamps threw a pale phosphoric shine. The
game was again renewed. It happened to be that season of the year at
which glowworms put forth their greatest brilliancy, and the light
they yielded was more than ample for the purpose, since it is possible
on such nights to read the handwriting of a letter by the light of two
or three.
The incongruity between the men's deeds and their environment was
great. Amid the soft juicy vegetation of the hollow in which they
sat, the motionless and the uninhabited solitude, intruded the chink
of guineas, the rattle of dice, the exclamations of the reckless
players.
Wildeve had lifted the box as soon as the lights were obtained, and
the solitary die proclaimed that the game was still against him.
"I won't play any more - you've been tampering with the dice," he
shouted.
"How - when they were your own?" said the reddleman.
"We'll change the game: the lowest point shall win the stake - it may
cut off my ill luck. Do you refuse?"
"No - go on," said Venn.
"O, there they are again - damn them!" cried Wildeve, looking up. The
heath-croppers had returned noiselessly, and were looking on with
erect heads just as before, their timid eyes fixed upon the scene, as
if they were wondering what mankind and candle-light could have to do
in these haunts at this untoward hour.
"What a plague those creatures are - staring at me so!" he said, and
flung a stone, which scattered them; when the game was continued as
before.
Wildeve had now ten guineas left; and each laid five. Wildeve threw
three points; Venn two, and raked in the coins. The other seized the
die, and clenched his teeth upon it in sheer rage, as if he would
bite it in pieces. "Never give in - here are my last five!" he cried,
throwing them down. "Hang the glowworms - they are going out. Why
don't you burn, you little fools? Stir them up with a thorn."
He probed the glowworms with a bit of stick, and rolled them over,
till the bright side of their tails was upwards.
"There's light enough. Throw on," said Venn.
Wildeve brought down the box within the shining circle and looked
eagerly. He had thrown ace. "Well done! - I said it would turn, and
it has turned." Venn said nothing; but his hand shook slightly.
He threw ace also.
"O!" said Wildeve. "Curse me!"
The die smacked the stone a second time. It was ace again. Venn
looked gloomy, threw: the die was seen to be lying in two pieces,
the cleft sides uppermost.
"I've thrown nothing at all," he said.
"Serves me right - I split the die with my teeth. Here - take your
money. Blank is less than one."
"I don't wish it."
"Take it, I say - you've won it!" And Wildeve threw the stakes against
the reddleman's chest. Venn gathered them up, arose, and withdrew
from the hollow, Wildeve sitting stupefied.
When he had come to himself he also arose, and, with the extinguished
lantern in his hand, went towards the high-road. On reaching it he
stood still. The silence of night pervaded the whole heath except in
one direction; and that was towards Mistover. There he could hear the
noise of light wheels, and presently saw two carriage-lamps descending
the hill. Wildeve screened himself under a bush and waited.
The vehicle came on and passed before him. It was a hired carriage,
and behind the coachman were two persons whom he knew well. There sat
Eustacia and Yeobright, the arm of the latter being round her waist.
They turned the sharp corner at the bottom towards the temporary home
which Clym had hired and furnished, about five miles to the eastward.
Wildeve forgot the loss of the money at the sight of his lost
love, whose preciousness in his eyes was increasing in geometrical
progression with each new incident that reminded him of their hopeless
division. Brimming with the subtilized misery that he was capable of
feeling, he followed the opposite way towards the inn.
About the same moment that Wildeve stepped into the highway Venn also
had reached it at a point a hundred yards further on; and he, hearing
the same wheels, likewise waited till the carriage should come up.
When he saw who sat therein he seemed to be disappointed. Reflecting
a minute or two, during which interval the carriage rolled on, he
crossed the road, and took a short cut through the furze and heath to
a point where the turnpike-road bent round in ascending a hill. He
was now again in front of the carriage, which presently came up at a
walking pace. Venn stepped forward and showed himself.
Eustacia started when the lamp shone upon him, and Clym's arm was
involuntarily withdrawn from her waist. He said, "What, Diggory? You
are having a lonely walk."
"Yes - I beg your pardon for stopping you," said Venn. "But I am
waiting about for Mrs. Wildeve: I have something to give her from Mrs.
Yeobright. Can you tell me if she's gone home from the party yet?"
"No. But she will be leaving soon. You may possibly meet her at the
corner."
Venn made a farewell obeisance, and walked back to his former
position, where the by-road from Mistover joined the highway. Here
he remained fixed for nearly half an hour, and then another pair
of lights came down the hill. It was the old-fashioned wheeled
nondescript belonging to the captain, and Thomasin sat in it alone,
driven by Charley.
The reddleman came up as they slowly turned the corner. "I beg pardon
for stopping you, Mrs. Wildeve," he said. "But I have something to
give you privately from Mrs. Yeobright." He handed a small parcel; it
consisted of the hundred guineas he had just won, roughly twisted up
in a piece of paper.
Thomasin recovered from her surprise, and took the packet. "That's
all, ma'am - I wish you good night," he said, and vanished from her
view.
Thus Venn, in his anxiety to rectify matters, had placed in Thomasin's
hands not only the fifty guineas which rightly belonged to her, but
also the fifty intended for her cousin Clym. His mistake had been
based upon Wildeve's words at the opening of the game, when he
indignantly denied that the guinea was not his own. It had not been
comprehended by the reddleman that at half-way through the performance
the game was continued with the money of another person; and it was an
error which afterwards helped to cause more misfortune than treble the
loss in money value could have done.
The night was now somewhat advanced; and Venn plunged deeper into the
heath, till he came to a ravine where his van was standing - a spot not
more than two hundred yards from the site of the gambling bout. He
entered this movable home of his, lit his lantern, and, before closing
his door for the night, stood reflecting on the circumstances of
the preceding hours. While he stood the dawn grew visible in the
north-east quarter of the heavens, which, the clouds having cleared
off, was bright with a soft sheen at this midsummer time, though it
was only between one and two o'clock. Venn, thoroughly weary, then
shut his door and flung himself down to sleep.
BOOK FOURTH
THE CLOSED DOOR
I
The Rencounter by the Pool
The July sun shone over Egdon and fired its crimson heather to
scarlet. It was the one season of the year, and the one weather of
the season, in which the heath was gorgeous. This flowering period
represented the second or noontide division in the cycle of those
superficial changes which alone were possible here; it followed the
green or young-fern period, representing the morn, and preceded the
brown period, when the heathbells and ferns would wear the russet
tinges of evening; to be in turn displaced by the dark hue of the
winter period, representing night.
Clym and Eustacia, in their little house at Alderworth, beyond East
Egdon, were living on with a monotony which was delightful to them.
The heath and changes of weather were quite blotted out from their
eyes for the present. They were enclosed in a sort of luminous mist,
which hid from them surroundings of any inharmonious colour, and
gave to all things the character of light. When it rained they were
charmed, because they could remain indoors together all day with such
a show of reason; when it was fine they were charmed, because they
could sit together on the hills. They were like those double stars
which revolve round and round each other, and from a distance appear
to be one. The absolute solitude in which they lived intensified
their reciprocal thoughts; yet some might have said that it had the
disadvantage of consuming their mutual affections at a fearfully
prodigal rate. Yeobright did not fear for his own part; but
recollection of Eustacia's old speech about the evanescence of love,
now apparently forgotten by her, sometimes caused him to ask himself
a question; and he recoiled at the thought that the quality of
finiteness was not foreign to Eden.
When three or four weeks had been passed thus, Yeobright resumed
his reading in earnest. To make up for lost time he studied
indefatigably, for he wished to enter his new profession with the
least possible delay.
Now, Eustacia's dream had always been that, once married to Clym,
she would have the power of inducing him to return to Paris. He had
carefully withheld all promise to do so; but would he be proof against
her coaxing and argument? She had calculated to such a degree on
the probability of success that she had represented Paris, and not
Budmouth, to her grandfather as in all likelihood their future home.
Her hopes were bound up in this dream. In the quiet days since their
marriage, when Yeobright had been poring over her lips, her eyes, and
the lines of her face, she had mused and mused on the subject, even
while in the act of returning his gaze; and now the sight of the
books, indicating a future which was antagonistic to her dream, struck
her with a positively painful jar. She was hoping for the time when,
as the mistress of some pretty establishment, however small, near a
Parisian Boulevard, she would be passing her days on the skirts at
least of the gay world, and catching stray wafts from those town
pleasures she was so well fitted to enjoy. Yet Yeobright was as firm
in the contrary intention as if the tendency of marriage were rather
to develop the fantasies of young philanthropy than to sweep them
away.
Her anxiety reached a high pitch; but there was something in Clym's
undeviating manner which made her hesitate before sounding him on
the subject. At this point in their experience, however, an incident
helped her. It occurred one evening about six weeks after their
union, and arose entirely out of the unconscious misapplication of
Venn of the fifty guineas intended for Yeobright.
A day or two after the receipt of the money Thomasin had sent a note
to her aunt to thank her. She had been surprised at the largeness of
the amount; but as no sum had ever been mentioned she set that down
to her late uncle's generosity. She had been strictly charged by her
aunt to say nothing to her husband of this gift; and Wildeve, as was
natural enough, had not brought himself to mention to his wife a
single particular of the midnight scene in the heath. Christian's
terror, in like manner, had tied his tongue on the share he took in
that proceeding; and hoping that by some means or other the money had
gone to its proper destination, he simply asserted as much, without
giving details.
Therefore, when a week or two had passed away, Mrs. Yeobright began
to wonder why she never heard from her son of the receipt of the
present; and to add gloom to her perplexity came the possibility
that resentment might be the cause of his silence. She could hardly
believe as much, but why did he not write? She questioned Christian,
and the confusion in his answers would at once have led her to
believe that something was wrong, had not one-half of his story been
corroborated by Thomasin's note.
Mrs. Yeobright was in this state of uncertainty when she was informed
one morning that her son's wife was visiting her grandfather at
Mistover. She determined to walk up the hill, see Eustacia, and
ascertain from her daughter-in-law's lips whether the family guineas,
which were to Mrs. Yeobright what family jewels are to wealthier
dowagers, had miscarried or not.
When Christian learnt where she was going his concern reached its
height. At the moment of her departure he could prevaricate no
longer, and, confessing to the gambling, told her the truth as far
as he knew it - that the guineas had been won by Wildeve.
"What, is he going to keep them?" Mrs. Yeobright cried.
"I hope and trust not!" moaned Christian. "He's a good man, and
perhaps will do right things. He said you ought to have gied Mr.
Clym's share to Eustacia, and that's perhaps what he'll do himself."
To Mrs. Yeobright, as soon as she could calmly reflect, there was much
likelihood in this, for she could hardly believe that Wildeve would
really appropriate money belonging to her son. The intermediate
course of giving it to Eustacia was the sort of thing to please
Wildeve's fancy. But it filled the mother with anger none the less.
That Wildeve should have got command of the guineas after all, and
should rearrange the disposal of them, placing Clym's share in Clym's
wife's hands, because she had been his own sweetheart, and might be so
still, was as irritating a pain as any that Mrs. Yeobright had ever
borne.
She instantly dismissed the wretched Christian from her employ for his
conduct in the affair; but, feeling quite helpless and unable to do
without him, told him afterwards that he might stay a little longer
if he chose. Then she hastened off to Eustacia, moved by a much less
promising emotion towards her daughter-in-law than she had felt half
an hour earlier, when planning her journey. At that time it was to
inquire in a friendly spirit if there had been any accidental loss;
now it was to ask plainly if Wildeve had privately given her money
which had been intended as a sacred gift to Clym.
She started at two o'clock, and her meeting with Eustacia was hastened
by the appearance of the young lady beside the pool and bank which
bordered her grandfather's premises, where she stood surveying
the scene, and perhaps thinking of the romantic enactments it had
witnessed in past days. When Mrs. Yeobright approached, Eustacia
surveyed her with the calm stare of a stranger.
The mother-in-law was the first to speak. "I was coming to see you,"
she said.
"Indeed!" said Eustacia with surprise, for Mrs. Yeobright, much to the
girl's mortification, had refused to be present at the wedding. "I
did not at all expect you."
"I was coming on business only," said the visitor, more coldly than at
first. "Will you excuse my asking this - Have you received a gift from
Thomasin's husband?"
"A gift?"
"I mean money!"
"What - I myself?"
"Well, I meant yourself, privately - though I was not going to put it
in that way."
"Money from Mr. Wildeve? No - never! Madam, what do you mean by that?"
Eustacia fired up all too quickly, for her own consciousness of the
old attachment between herself and Wildeve led her to jump to the
conclusion that Mrs. Yeobright also knew of it, and might have come
to accuse her of receiving dishonourable presents from him now.
"I simply ask the question," said Mrs. Yeobright. "I have been - "
"You ought to have better opinions of me - I feared you were against
me from the first!" exclaimed Eustacia.
"No. I was simply for Clym," replied Mrs. Yeobright, with too much
emphasis in her earnestness. "It is the instinct of everyone to look
after their own."
"How can you imply that he required guarding against me?" cried
Eustacia, passionate tears in her eyes. "I have not injured him by
marrying him! What sin have I done that you should think so ill of me?
You had no right to speak against me to him when I have never wronged
you."
"I only did what was fair under the circumstances," said Mrs.
Yeobright more softly. "I would rather not have gone into this
question at present, but you compel me. I am not ashamed to tell you
the honest truth. I was firmly convinced that he ought not to marry
you - therefore I tried to dissuade him by all the means in my power.
But it is done now, and I have no idea of complaining any more. I am
ready to welcome you."
"Ah, yes, it is very well to see things in that business point of
view," murmured Eustacia with a smothered fire of feeling. "But why
should you think there is anything between me and Mr. Wildeve? I have
a spirit as well as you. I am indignant; and so would any woman be.
It was a condescension in me to be Clym's wife, and not a manoeuvre,
let me remind you; and therefore I will not be treated as a schemer