Page 10 of Far from the Madding Crowd

HALF-AN-HOUR later Bathsheba, in finished dress,

and followed by Liddy, entered the upper end of the oldhall to find that her men had all deposited themselves ona long form and a settle at the lower extremity. She satdown at a table and opened the time-book, pen in herhand, with a canvas money-bag beside her. From thisshe poured a small heap of coin. Liddy chose aposition at her elbow and began to sew, sometimespausing and looking round, or with the air of a privilegedperson, taking up one of the half-sovereigns lying beforeher and surveying it merely as a work of art, whilestrictly preventing her countenance from expressing anywish to possess it as money. ”Now before I begin, men.” said Bathsheba, ”I havetwo matters to speak of. The first is that the bailiff isdismissed for thieving, and that I have formed a resolu-tion to have no bailiff at all, but to manage everythingwith my own head and hands.” The men breathed an audible breath of amazement. ”The next matter is, have you heard anything ofFanny?” ”Nothing, ma'am. ”Have you done anything?” ”I met Farmer Boldwood.” said Jacob Smallbury, 'andI went with him and two of his men, and dragged New-mill Pond, but we found nothing.” ”And the new shepherd have been to Buck's Head,by Yalbury, thinking she had gone there, but nobodyhad seed her.” said Laban Tall. ”Hasn't William Smallbury been to Casterbridge?” ”Yes, ma'am, but he's not yet come home. Hepromised to be back by six.” ”It wants a quarter to six at present.” said Bathsheba,looking at her watch. ”I daresay he'll be in directly.Well, now then” -- she looked into the book -- ”JosephPoorgrass, are you there?” ”Yes, sir -- ma'am I mane.” said the person addressed.”I be the personal name of Poorgrass.” ”And what are you?” ”Nothing in my own eye. In the eye of other people -- well, I don't say it; though public thought will out.” ”What do you do on the farm?” ”I do do carting things all the year, and in seed time Ishoots the rooks and sparrows, and helps at pig-killing, sir.” ”How much to you?” ”Please nine and ninepence and a good halfpennywhere 'twas a bad one, sir -- ma'am I mane.” ”Quite correct. Now here are ten shillings in addi-tion as a small present, as I am a new comer.” Bathsheba blushed slightly at the sense of beinggenerous in public, and Henery Fray, who had drawnup towards her chair, lifted his eyebrows and fingers toexpress amazement on a small scale. ”How much do I owe you -- that man in the corner --what's your name?” continued Bathsheba. ”Matthew Moon, ma'am.” said a singular framework ofclothes with nothing of any consequence inside them,which advanced with the toes in no definite directionforwards, but turned in or out as they chanced to swing. ”Matthew Mark, did you say? -- speak out -- I shallnot hurt you.” inquired the young farmer, kindly. ”Matthew Moon mem” said Henery Fray, correct-ingly, from behind her chair, to which point he hadedged himself. ”Matthew Moon.” murmured Bathsheba, turning herbright eyes to the book. ”Ten and twopence halfpennyis the sum put down to you, I see?” ”Yes, mis'ess.” said Matthew, as the rustle of windamong dead leaves. ”Here it is and ten shillings. Now -the next -- AndrewRandle, you are a new man, I hear. How come you toleave your last farm?” ”P-p-p-p-p-pl-pl-pl-pl-l-l-l-l-ease, ma'am, p-p-p-p-pl-pl-pl-pl-please, ma'am-please'm-please'm -- -- ” ”'A's a stammering man, mem.” said Henery Fray inan undertone, ”and they turned him away because theonly time he ever did speak plain he said his soul washis own, and other iniquities, to the squire. ”A can cuss,mem, as well as you or I, but 'a can't speak a commonspeech to save his life.” ”Andrew Randle, here's yours -- finish thanking mein a day or two. Temperance Miller -- oh, here's another,Soberness -- both women I suppose?” ”Yes'm. Here we be, 'a b'lieve.” was echoed in shrillunison. ”What have you been doing?” ”Tending thrashing-machine and wimbling haybonds,and saying ”Hoosh!” to the cocks and hens when theygo upon your seeds and planting Early Flourballs andThompson's Wonderfuls with a dibble.” ”Yes -- I see. Are they satisfactory women?” sheinquired softly of Henery Fray. ”O mem -- don't ask me! Yielding women?” asscarlet a pair as ever was!” groaned Henery under hisbreath. ”Sit down. ”Who, mem?” ”Sit down,” Joseph Poorgrass, in the background twitched, andhis lips became dry with fear of some terrible conse-quences, as he saw Bathsheba summarily speaking, andHenery slinking off to a corner. ”Now the next. Laban Tall, you'll stay on workingfor me?” ”For you or anybody that pays me well, ma'am,”replied the young married man. ”True -- the man must live!” said a woman in theback quarter, who had just entered with clicking pattens. ”What woman is that?” Bathsheba asked. ”I be his lawful wife!” continued the voice withgreater prominence of manner and tone. This ladycalled herself five-and-twenty, looked thirty, passed asthirty-five, and was forty. She was a woman who never,like some newly married, showed conjugal tenderness inpublic, perhaps because she had none to show. ”Oh, you are.” said Bathsheba. ”Well, Laban, willyou stay on?” ”Yes, he'll stay, ma'am!” said again the shrill tongueof Laban's lawful wife. ”Well, he can speak for himself, I suppose.” ”O Lord, not he, ma'am! A simple tool. Wellenough, but a poor gawkhammer mortal.” the wife replied ”Heh-heh-heh!” laughed the married man with ahideous effort of appreciation, for he was as irrepressiblygood-humoured under ghastly snubs as a parliamentarycandidate on the hustings. The names remaining were called in the samemanner. ”Now I think I have done with you.” said Bathsheba,closing the book and shaking back a stray twine of hair.”Has William Smallbury returned?” ”No, ma'am.” ”The new shepherd will want a man under him,”suggested Henery Fray, trying to make himself officialagain by a sideway approach towards her chair. ”Oh -- he will. Who can he have?” ”Young Cain Ball is a very good lad.” Henery said,”and Shepherd Oak don't mind his youth?” he added,turning with an apologetic smile to the shepherd, whohad just appeared on the scene, and was now leaningagainst the doorpost with his arms folded. ”No, I don't mind that.” said Gabriel. ”How did Cain come by such a name?” askedBathsheba. ”Oh you see, mem, his pore mother, not being aScripture-read woman made a mistake at his christening,thinking 'twas Abel killed Cain, and called en Cain,but 'twas too late, for the name could never be got ridof in the parish. 'Tis very unfortunate for the boy.” ”It is rather unfortunate.” ”Yes. However, we soften it down as much as wecan, and call him Cainey. Ah, pore widow-woman!she cried her heart out about it almost. She wasbrought up by a very heathen father and mother, whonever sent her to church or school, and it shows howthe sins of the parents are visited upon the children,mem.” Mr. Fray here drew up his features to the mild degreeof melancholy required when the persons involved inthe given misfortune do not belong to your own family. ”Very well then, Cainey Ball to be under-shepherdAnd you quite understand your duties? -- you I mean,Gabriel Oak?” ”Quite well, I thank you Miss Everdene.” saidShepard Oak from the doorpost. ”If I don't, I'llinquire.” Gabriel was rather staggered by the remark-able coolness of her manner. Certainly nobody withoutprevious information would have dreamt that Oak andthe handsome woman before whom he stood had everbeen other than strangers. But perhaps her air wasthe inevitable result of the social rise which had advancedher from a cottage to a large house and fields. Thecase is not unexampled in high places. When, in thewritings of the later poets, Jove and his family are foundto have moved from their cramped quarters on the peakof Olympus into the wide sky above it, their words showa proportionate increase of arrogance and reserve.Footsteps were heard in the passage, combining intheir character the qualities both of weight and measure,rather at the expense of velocity.(All.) ”Here's Billy Smallbury come from Caster-bridge.””And what's the news?” said Bathsheba, as William,after marching to the middle of the hall, took a hand-kerchief from his hat and wiped his forehead from itscentre to its remoter boundaries.”I should have been sooner, miss.” he said, ”if ithadn't been for the weather.” He then stamped witheach foot severely, and on looking down his boots wereperceived to be clogged with snow.”Come at last, is it?” said Henery.”Well, what about Fanny?” said Bathsheba.”Well, ma'am, in round numbers, she's run away withthe soldiers.” said William.”No; not a steady girl like Fanny!””I'll tell ye all particulars. When I got to Caster,bridge Barracks, they said, ” The Eleventh Dragoon-Guards be gone away, and new troops have come.”The Eleventh left last week for Melchester and onwards.The Route came from Government like a thief in thenight, as is his nature to, and afore the Eleventh knewit almost, they were on the march. They passed nearhere.”Gabriel had listened with interest. ”I saw them go,”he said.”Yes.” continued William,” they pranced down thestreet playing ”The Girl I Left Behind Me.” so 'tissaid, in glorious notes of triumph. Every looker-on'sinside shook with the blows of the great drum to hisdeepest vitals, and there was not a dry eye throughoutthe town among the public-house people and the name-less women!””But they're not gone to any war?””No, ma'am; but they be gone to take the placesof them who may, which is very close connected. Andso I said to myself, Fanny's young man was one of theregiment, and she's gone after him. There, ma'am,that's it in black and white.”Gabriel remained musing and said nothing, for hewas in doubt.”Well, we are not likely to know more to-night, atany rate.” said Bathsheba. ”But one of you had betterrun across to Farmer Boldwood's and tell him thatmuch.”She then rose; but before retiring, addressed a fewwords to them with a pretty dignity, to which hermourning dress added a soberness that was hardly tobe found in the words themselves.”Now mind, you have a mistress instead of a masterI don't yet know my powers or my talents in farming;but I shall do my best, and if you serve me well, soshall I serve you. Don't any unfair ones among you(if there are any such, but I hope not) suppose thatbecause I'm a woman I don't understand the differencebetween bad goings-on and good.”(All.) ”Nom!”(Liddy.) ”Excellent well said.””I shall be up before you are awake; I shall beafield before you are up; and I shall have breakfastedbefore you are afield. In short, I shall astonish you all.(All.) ”Yes'm!””And so good-night.”(All.) ”Good-night, ma'am.”Then this small-thesmothete stepped from the table,and surged out of the hall, her black silk dress lickingup a few straws and dragging them along with a scratch-ing noise upon the floor. biddy, elevating her feelingsto the occasion from a sense of grandeur, floated offbehind Bathsheba with a milder dignity not entirelyfree from travesty, and the door was closed.



CHAPTER XI