Jude the Obscure
III
The seventy young women, of ages varying in the main from nineteen toone-and-twenty, though several were older, who at this date filledthe species of nunnery known as the Training-School at Melchester,formed a very mixed community, which included the daughters ofmechanics, curates, surgeons, shopkeepers, farmers, dairy-men,soldiers, sailors, and villagers. They sat in the large school-roomof the establishment on the evening previously described, and wordwas passed round that Sue Bridehead had not come in at closing-time.
"She went out with her young man," said a second-year's student, whoknew about young men. "And Miss Traceley saw her at the station withhim. She'll have it hot when she does come."
"She said he was her cousin," observed a youthful new girl.
"That excuse has been made a little too often in this school to beeffectual in saving our souls," said the head girl of the year,drily.
The fact was that, only twelve months before, there had occurreda lamentable seduction of one of the pupils who had made the samestatement in order to gain meetings with her lover. The affair hadcreated a scandal, and the management had consequently been rough oncousins ever since.
At nine o'clock the names were called, Sue's being pronounced threetimes sonorously by Miss Traceley without eliciting an answer.
At a quarter past nine the seventy stood up to sing the "EveningHymn," and then knelt down to prayers. After prayers they went in tosupper, and every girl's thought was, Where is Sue Bridehead? Someof the students, who had seen Jude from the window, felt that theywould not mind risking her punishment for the pleasure of beingkissed by such a kindly-faced young man. Hardly one among thembelieved in the cousinship.
Half an hour later they all lay in their cubicles, their tenderfeminine faces upturned to the flaring gas-jets which at intervalsstretched down the long dormitories, every face bearing the legend"The Weaker" upon it, as the penalty of the sex wherein they weremoulded, which by no possible exertion of their willing hearts andabilities could be made strong while the inexorable laws of natureremain what they are. They formed a pretty, suggestive, patheticsight, of whose pathos and beauty they were themselves unconscious,and would not discover till, amid the storms and strains ofafter-years, with their injustice, loneliness, child-bearing, andbereavement, their minds would revert to this experience as tosomething which had been allowed to slip past them insufficientlyregarded.
One of the mistresses came in to turn out the lights, and beforedoing so gave a final glance at Sue's cot, which remained empty, andat her little dressing-table at the foot, which, like all the rest,was ornamented with various girlish trifles, framed photographs beingnot the least conspicuous among them. Sue's table had a moderateshow, two men in their filigree and velvet frames standing togetherbeside her looking-glass.
"Who are these men--did she ever say?" asked the mistress. "Strictlyspeaking, relations' portraits only are allowed on these tables, youknow."
"One--the middle-aged man," said a student in the next bed--"is theschoolmaster she served under--Mr. Phillotson."
"And the other--this undergraduate in cap and gown--who is he?"
"He is a friend, or was. She has never told his name."
"Was it either of these two who came for her?"
"No."
"You are sure 'twas not the undergraduate?"
"Quite. He was a young man with a black beard."
The lights were promptly extinguished, and till they fell asleep thegirls indulged in conjectures about Sue, and wondered what gamesshe had carried on in London and at Christminster before she camehere, some of the more restless ones getting out of bed and lookingfrom the mullioned windows at the vast west front of the cathedralopposite, and the spire rising behind it.
When they awoke the next morning they glanced into Sue's nook,to find it still without a tenant. After the early lessons bygas-light, in half-toilet, and when they had come up to dress forbreakfast, the bell of the entrance gate was heard to ring loudly.The mistress of the dormitory went away, and presently came back tosay that the principal's orders were that nobody was to speak toBridehead without permission.
When, accordingly, Sue came into the dormitory to hastily tidyherself, looking flushed and tired, she went to her cubicle insilence, none of them coming out to greet her or to make inquiry.When they had gone downstairs they found that she did not follow theminto the dining-hall to breakfast, and they then learnt that she hadbeen severely reprimanded, and ordered to a solitary room for a week,there to be confined, and take her meals, and do all her reading.
At this the seventy murmured, the sentence being, they thought, toosevere. A round robin was prepared and sent in to the principal,asking for a remission of Sue's punishment. No notice was taken.Towards evening, when the geography mistress began dictating hersubject, the girls in the class sat with folded arms.
"You mean that you are not going to work?" said the mistress at last."I may as well tell you that it has been ascertained that the youngman Bridehead stayed out with was not her cousin, for the verygood reason that she has no such relative. We have written toChristminster to ascertain."
"We are willing to take her word," said the head girl.
"This young man was discharged from his work at Christminster fordrunkenness and blasphemy in public-houses, and he has come here tolive, entirely to be near her."
However, they remained stolid and motionless, and the mistress leftthe room to inquire from her superiors what was to be done.
Presently, towards dusk, the pupils, as they sat, heard exclamationsfrom the first-year's girls in an adjoining classroom, and one rushedin to say that Sue Bridehead had got out of the back window of theroom in which she had been confined, escaped in the dark across thelawn, and disappeared. How she had managed to get out of the gardennobody could tell, as it was bounded by the river at the bottom, andthe side door was locked.
They went and looked at the empty room, the casement between themiddle mullions of which stood open. The lawn was again searchedwith a lantern, every bush and shrub being examined, but she wasnowhere hidden. Then the porter of the front gate was interrogated,and on reflection he said that he remembered hearing a sort ofsplashing in the stream at the back, but he had taken no notice,thinking some ducks had come down the river from above.
"She must have walked through the river!" said a mistress.
"Or drownded herself," said the porter.
The mind of the matron was horrified--not so much at the possibledeath of Sue as at the possible half-column detailing that event inall the newspapers, which, added to the scandal of the year before,would give the college an unenviable notoriety for many months tocome.
More lanterns were procured, and the river examined; and then, atlast, on the opposite shore, which was open to the fields, somelittle boot-tracks were discerned in the mud, which left no doubtthat the too excitable girl had waded through a depth of waterreaching nearly to her shoulders--for this was the chief river of thecounty, and was mentioned in all the geography books with respect.As Sue had not brought disgrace upon the school by drowning herself,the matron began to speak superciliously of her, and to expressgladness that she was gone.
On the self-same evening Jude sat in his lodgings by the Close Gate.Often at this hour after dusk he would enter the silent Close, andstand opposite the house that contained Sue, and watch the shadows ofthe girls' heads passing to and fro upon the blinds, and wish he hadnothing else to do but to sit reading and learning all day what manyof the thoughtless inmates despised. But to-night, having finishedtea and brushed himself up, he was deep in the perusal of theTwenty-ninth Volume of Pusey's Library of the Fathers, a set of bookswhich he had purchased of a second-hand dealer at a price that seemedto him to be one of miraculous cheapness for that invaluable work. Hefancied he heard something rattle lightly against his window; then heheard it again. Certainly somebody had thrown gravel. He rose andgently lifted the sash.
"Jude!" (from below).
"Sue!
"
"Yes--it is! Can I come up without being seen?"
"Oh yes!"
"Then don't come down. Shut the window."
Jude waited, knowing that she could enter easily enough, the frontdoor being opened merely by a knob which anybody could turn, asin most old country towns. He palpitated at the thought that shehad fled to him in her trouble as he had fled to her in his. Whatcounterparts they were! He unlatched the door of his room, heard astealthy rustle on the dark stairs, and in a moment she appeared inthe light of his lamp. He went up to seize her hand, and found shewas clammy as a marine deity, and that her clothes clung to her likethe robes upon the figures in the Parthenon frieze.
"I'm so cold!" she said through her chattering teeth. "Can I come byyour fire, Jude?"
She crossed to his little grate and very little fire, but as thewater dripped from her as she moved, the idea of drying herself wasabsurd. "Whatever have you done, darling?" he asked, with alarm, thetender epithet slipping out unawares.
"Walked through the largest river in the county--that's what I'vedone! They locked me up for being out with you; and it seemed sounjust that I couldn't bear it, so I got out of the window andescaped across the stream!" She had begun the explanation in herusual slightly independent tones, but before she had finished thethin pink lips trembled, and she could hardly refrain from crying.
"Dear Sue!" he said. "You must take off all your things! And let mesee--you must borrow some from the landlady. I'll ask her."
"No, no! Don't let her know, for God's sake! We are so near theschool that they'll come after me!"
"Then you must put on mine. You don't mind?"
"Oh no."
"My Sunday suit, you know. It is close here." In fact, everythingwas close and handy in Jude's single chamber, because there was notroom for it to be otherwise. He opened a drawer, took out his bestdark suit, and giving the garments a shake, said, "Now, how longshall I give you?"
"Ten minutes."
Jude left the room and went into the street, where he walked up anddown. A clock struck half-past seven, and he returned. Sitting inhis only arm-chair he saw a slim and fragile being masquerading ashimself on a Sunday, so pathetic in her defencelessness that hisheart felt big with the sense of it. On two other chairs before thefire were her wet garments. She blushed as he sat down beside her,but only for a moment.
"I suppose, Jude, it is odd that you should see me like this and allmy things hanging there? Yet what nonsense! They are only a woman'sclothes--sexless cloth and linen... I wish I didn't feel so ill andsick! Will you dry my clothes now? Please do, Jude, and I'll get alodging by and by. It is not late yet."
"No, you shan't, if you are ill. You must stay here. Dear, dearSue, what can I get for you?"
"I don't know! I can't help shivering. I wish I could get warm."Jude put on her his great-coat in addition, and then ran out to thenearest public-house, whence he returned with a little bottle in hishand. "Here's six of best brandy," he said. "Now you drink it,dear; all of it."
"I can't out of the bottle, can I?" Jude fetched the glass from thedressing-table, and administered the spirit in some water. Shegasped a little, but gulped it down, and lay back in the armchair.
She then began to relate circumstantially her experiences sincethey had parted; but in the middle of her story her voice faltered,her head nodded, and she ceased. She was in a sound sleep. Jude,dying of anxiety lest she should have caught a chill which mightpermanently injure her, was glad to hear the regular breathing. Hesoftly went nearer to her, and observed that a warm flush now rosedher hitherto blue cheeks, and felt that her hanging hand was nolonger cold. Then he stood with his back to the fire regarding her,and saw in her almost a divinity.