Jude the Obscure
VIII
One week's end Jude was as usual walking out to his aunt's atMarygreen from his lodging in Alfredston, a walk which now had largeattractions for him quite other than his desire to see his aged andmorose relative. He diverged to the right before ascending the hillwith the single purpose of gaining, on his way, a glimpse of Arabellathat should not come into the reckoning of regular appointments.Before quite reaching the homestead his alert eye perceived the topof her head moving quickly hither and thither over the garden hedge.Entering the gate he found that three young unfattened pigs hadescaped from their sty by leaping clean over the top, and that shewas endeavouring unassisted to drive them in through the door whichshe had set open. The lines of her countenance changed from therigidity of business to the softness of love when she saw Jude, andshe bent her eyes languishingly upon him. The animals took advantageof the pause by doubling and bolting out of the way.
"They were only put in this morning!" she cried, stimulated to pursuein spite of her lover's presence. "They were drove from SpaddleholtFarm only yesterday, where Father bought 'em at a stiff price enough.They are wanting to get home again, the stupid toads! Will you shutthe garden gate, dear, and help me to get 'em in. There are no menfolk at home, only Mother, and they'll be lost if we don't mind."
He set himself to assist, and dodged this way and that over thepotato rows and the cabbages. Every now and then they ran together,when he caught her for a moment and kissed her. The first pig wasgot back promptly; the second with some difficulty; the third along-legged creature, was more obstinate and agile. He plungedthrough a hole in the garden hedge, and into the lane.
"He'll be lost if I don't follow 'n!" said she. "Come along withme!"
She rushed in full pursuit out of the garden, Jude alongside her,barely contriving to keep the fugitive in sight. Occasionally theywould shout to some boy to stop the animal, but he always wriggledpast and ran on as before.
"Let me take your hand, darling," said Jude. "You are getting out ofbreath." She gave him her now hot hand with apparent willingness,and they trotted along together.
"This comes of driving 'em home," she remarked. "They always knowthe way back if you do that. They ought to have been carted over."
By this time the pig had reached an unfastened gate admitting to theopen down, across which he sped with all the agility his little legsafforded. As soon as the pursuers had entered and ascended to thetop of the high ground it became apparent that they would have to runall the way to the farmer's if they wished to get at him. From thissummit he could be seen as a minute speck, following an unerring linetowards his old home.
"It is no good!" cried Arabella. "He'll be there long before we getthere. It don't matter now we know he's not lost or stolen on theway. They'll see it is ours, and send un back. Oh dear, how hot Ibe!"
Without relinquishing her hold of Jude's hand she swerved aside andflung herself down on the sod under a stunted thorn, precipitatelypulling Jude on to his knees at the same time.
"Oh, I ask pardon--I nearly threw you down, didn't I! But I am sotired!"
She lay supine, and straight as an arrow, on the sloping sod of thishill-top, gazing up into the blue miles of sky, and still retainingher warm hold of Jude's hand. He reclined on his elbow near her.
"We've run all this way for nothing," she went on, her form heavingand falling in quick pants, her face flushed, her full red lipsparted, and a fine dew of perspiration on her skin. "Well--why don'tyou speak, deary?"
"I'm blown too. It was all up hill."
They were in absolute solitude--the most apparent of all solitudes,that of empty surrounding space. Nobody could be nearer than a mileto them without their seeing him. They were, in fact, on one of thesummits of the county, and the distant landscape around Christminstercould be discerned from where they lay. But Jude did not think ofthat then.
"Oh, I can see such a pretty thing up this tree," said Arabella. "Asort of a--caterpillar, of the most loveliest green and yellow youever came across!"
"Where?" said Jude, sitting up.
"You can't see him there--you must come here," said she.
He bent nearer and put his head in front of hers. "No--I can't seeit," he said.
"Why, on the limb there where it branches off--close to the movingleaf--there!" She gently pulled him down beside her.
"I don't see it," he repeated, the back of his head against hercheek. "But I can, perhaps, standing up." He stood accordingly,placing himself in the direct line of her gaze.
"How stupid you are!" she said crossly, turning away her face.
"I don't care to see it, dear: why should I?" he replied lookingdown upon her. "Get up, Abby."
"Why?"
"I want you to let me kiss you. I've been waiting to ever so long!"
She rolled round her face, remained a moment looking deedily aslantat him; then with a slight curl of the lip sprang to her feet, andexclaiming abruptly "I must mizzle!" walked off quickly homeward.Jude followed and rejoined her.
"Just one!" he coaxed.
"Shan't!" she said.
He, surprised: "What's the matter?"
She kept her two lips resentfully together, and Jude followed herlike a pet lamb till she slackened her pace and walked beside him,talking calmly on indifferent subjects, and always checking him ifhe tried to take her hand or clasp her waist. Thus they descendedto the precincts of her father's homestead, and Arabella went in,nodding good-bye to him with a supercilious, affronted air.
"I expect I took too much liberty with her, somehow," Jude said tohimself, as he withdrew with a sigh and went on to Marygreen.
On Sunday morning the interior of Arabella's home was, as usual,the scene of a grand weekly cooking, the preparation of the specialSunday dinner. Her father was shaving before a little glass hung onthe mullion of the window, and her mother and Arabella herself wereshelling beans hard by. A neighbour passed on her way home frommorning service at the nearest church, and seeing Donn engaged atthe window with the razor, nodded and came in.
She at once spoke playfully to Arabella: "I zeed 'ee running with'un--hee-hee! I hope 'tis coming to something?"
Arabella merely threw a look of consciousness into her face withoutraising her eyes.
"He's for Christminster, I hear, as soon as he can get there."
"Have you heard that lately--quite lately?" asked Arabella with ajealous, tigerish indrawing of breath.
"Oh no! But it has been known a long time that it is his plan. He'son'y waiting here for an opening. Ah well: he must walk about withsomebody, I s'pose. Young men don't mean much now-a-days. 'Tis a siphere and a sip there with 'em. 'Twas different in my time."
When the gossip had departed Arabella said suddenly to her mother:"I want you and Father to go and inquire how the Edlins be, thisevening after tea. Or no--there's evening service at Fensworth--youcan walk to that."
"Oh? What's up to-night, then?"
"Nothing. Only I want the house to myself. He's shy; and I can'tget un to come in when you are here. I shall let him slip through myfingers if I don't mind, much as I care for 'n!"
"If it is fine we med as well go, since you wish."
In the afternoon Arabella met and walked with Jude, who had nowfor weeks ceased to look into a book of Greek, Latin, or any othertongue. They wandered up the slopes till they reached the greentrack along the ridge, which they followed to the circular Britishearth-bank adjoining, Jude thinking of the great age of the trackway,and of the drovers who had frequented it, probably before the Romansknew the country. Up from the level lands below them floated thechime of church bells. Presently they were reduced to one note,which quickened, and stopped.
"Now we'll go back," said Arabella, who had attended to the sounds.
Jude assented. So long as he was near her he minded little where hewas. When they arrived at her house he said lingeringly: "I won'tcome in. Why are you in such a hurry to go in to-night? It is notnear dark."
r /> "Wait a moment," said she. She tried the handle of the door andfound it locked.
"Ah--they are gone to church," she added. And searching behind thescraper she found the key and unlocked the door. "Now, you'll comein a moment?" she asked lightly. "We shall be all alone."
"Certainly," said Jude with alacrity, the case being unexpectedlyaltered.
Indoors they went. Did he want any tea? No, it was too late: hewould rather sit and talk to her. She took off her jacket and hat,and they sat down--naturally enough close together.
"Don't touch me, please," she said softly. "I am part egg-shell. Orperhaps I had better put it in a safe place." She began unfasteningthe collar of her gown.
"What is it?" said her lover.
"An egg--a cochin's egg. I am hatching a very rare sort. I carry itabout everywhere with me, and it will get hatched in less than threeweeks."
"Where do you carry it?"
"Just here." She put her hand into her bosom and drew out the egg,which was wrapped in wool, outside it being a piece of pig's bladder,in case of accidents. Having exhibited it to him she put it back,"Now mind you don't come near me. I don't want to get it broke, andhave to begin another."
"Why do you do such a strange thing?"
"It's an old custom. I suppose it is natural for a woman to want tobring live things into the world."
"It is very awkward for me just now," he said, laughing.
"It serves you right. There--that's all you can have of me"
She had turned round her chair, and, reaching over the back of it,presented her cheek to him gingerly.
"That's very shabby of you!"
"You should have catched me a minute ago when I had put the egg down!There!" she said defiantly, "I am without it now!" She had quicklywithdrawn the egg a second time; but before he could quite reach hershe had put it back as quickly, laughing with the excitement of herstrategy. Then there was a little struggle, Jude making a plunge forit and capturing it triumphantly. Her face flushed; and becomingsuddenly conscious he flushed also.
They looked at each other, panting; till he rose and said: "One kiss,now I can do it without damage to property; and I'll go!"
But she had jumped up too. "You must find me first!" she cried.
Her lover followed her as she withdrew. It was now dark inside theroom, and the window being small he could not discover for a longtime what had become of her, till a laugh revealed her to have rushedup the stairs, whither Jude rushed at her heels.