Page 21 of Far from the Madding Crowd

TROUBLES IN THE FOLD -- A MESSAGE

GABRIEL OAK had ceased to feed the Weatherburyflock for about four-and-twenty hours, when on Sundayafternoon the elderly gentlemen Joseph Poorgrass,Matthew Moon, Fray, and half-a-dozen others, camerunning up to the house of the mistress of the UpperFarm. ”Whatever is the matter, men?” she said, meetingthem at the door just as she was coming out on herway to church, and ceasing in a moment from the closecompression of her two red lips, with which she hadaccompanied the exertion of pulling on a tight glove.”Sixty!” said Joseph Poorgrass.”Seventy!” said Moon.”Fifty-nine!” said Susan Tall's husband.”-- Sheep have broke fence.” said Fray.”-- And got into a field of young clover.” said Tall.”-- Young clover!” said Moon.”-- Clover!” said Joseph Poorgrass.”And they be getting blasted.” said Henery Fray.”That they be.” said Joseph.”And will all die as dead as nits, if they bain't gotout and cured!”said Tall.Joseph's countenance was drawn into lines andpuckers by his concern. Fray's forehead was wrinkledboth perpendicularly and crosswise, after the pattern ofa portcullis, expressive of a double despair. LabanTall's lips were thin, and his face were rigid. Matthew'sjaws sank, and his eyes turned whichever way thestrongest muscle happened to pull them. ”Yes.” said Joseph, ”and I was sitting at home,looking for Ephesians, and says I to myself, ”'Tisnothing but Corinthians and Thessalonians in thisdanged Testament.” when who should come in butHenery there: ”Joseph,” he said, ”the sheep haveWith Bathsheba it was a moment when thought wasblasted theirselves -- ” With Bathsheba it was a moment when thought wasspeech and speech exclamation. Moreover, she hadhardly recovered her equanimity since the disturbancewhich she had suffered from Oak's remarks.”That's enought -- that's enough! -- oh, you fools!”she cried, throwing the parasol and Prayer-book intothe passage, and running out of doors in the directionsignified. ”To come to me, and not go and get themout directly! Oh, the stupid numskulls!”Her eyes were at their darkest and brightest now.Bathsheba's beauty belonged rather to the demonianthan to the angelic school, she never looked so well aswhen she was angry -- and particularly when the effectwas heightened by a rather dashing velvet dress, care-fully put on before a glass.All the ancient men ran in a jumbled throng afterher to the clover-field, Joseph sinking down in themidst when about half-way, like an individual witheringin a world which was more and more insupportable.Having once received the stimulus that her presencealways gave them they went round among the sheepwith a will. The majority of the afflicted animals werelying down, and could not be stirred. These werebodily lifted out, and the others driven into the adjoiningfield. Here, after the lapse of a few minutes, severalmore fell down, and lay helpless and livid as the rest.Bathsheba, with a sad, bursting heart, looked at theseprimest specimens of her prime flock as they rolledthere --Swoln with wind and the rank mist they drew.Many of them foamed at the mouth, their breathingbeing quick and short, whilst the bodies of all werefearfully distended.”O, what can I do, what can I do!” said Bathsheba,helplessly. ”Sheep are such unfortunate animals! --there's always something happening to them! I neverknew a flock pass a year without getting into some scrapeor other.””There's only one way of saving them.” said Tall.”What way? Tell me quick!””They must be pierced in the side with a thing madeon purpose.””Can you do it? Can I?””No, ma'am. We can't, nor you neither. It mustbe done in a particular spot. If ye go to the right orleft but an inch you stab the ewe and kill her. Noteven a shepherd can do it, as a rule.””Then they must die.” she said, in a resigned tone.”Only one man in the neighbourhood knows the way,”said Joseph, now just come up. ”He could cure 'emall if he were here.””Who is he? Let's get him!””Shepherd Oak,” said Matthew. ”Ah, he's a cleverman in talents!””Ah, that he is so!” said Joseph Poorgrass.”True -- he's the man.” said Laban Tall.”How dare you name that man in my presence!” shesaid excitedly. ”I told you never to allude to him, norshall you if you stay with me. Ah!” she added, brighten-ing, ”Farmer Boldwood knows!” ”O no, ma'am” said Matthew. ”Two of his storeewes got into some vetches t'other day, and were justlike these. He sent a man on horseback here post-hastefor Gable, and Gable went and saved 'em, FarmerBoldwood hev got the thing they do it with. 'Tis aholler pipe, with a sharp pricker inside. Isn't it,Joseph?” ”Ay -- a holler pipe.” echoed Joseph. ”That's what'tis.””Ay, sure -- that's the machine.” chimed in HeneryFray, reflectively, with an Oriental indifference to theflight of time.”Well,” burst out Bathsheba, ”don't stand there withyour ”ayes” and your ”sures” talking at me! Getsomebody to cure the sheep instantly!” All then stalked or in consternation, to get some-body as directed, without any idea of who it was to be.In a minute they had vanished through the gate, andshe stood alone with the dying flock.”Never will I send for him never!” she said firmly.One of the ewes here contracted its muscles horribly,extended itself, and jumped high into the air. Theleap was an astonishing one. The ewe fell heavily, andlay still.Bathsheba went up to it. The sheep was dead.”O, what shall I do -- what shall I do!” she againexclaimed, wringing her hands. ”I won't send for him.No, I won't!”The most vigorous expression of a resolution doesnot always coincide with the greatest vigour of theresolution itself. It is often flung out as a sort of propto support a decaying conviction which, whilst strong,required no enunciation to prove it so. The ”No, Iwon't” of Bathsheba meant virtually, ”I think I must.”She followed her assistants through the gate, andlifted her hand to one of them. Laban answered to hersignal.”Where is Oak staying?””Across the valley at Nest Cottage!””Jump on the bay mare, and ride across, and say hemust return instantly -- that I say so.”Tall scrambled off to the field, and in two minuteswas on Poll, the bay, bare-backed, and with only ahalter by way of rein. He diminished down thehill.Bathsheba watched. So did all the rest. Tallcantered along the bridle-path through Sixteen Acres,Sheeplands, Middle Field The Flats, Cappel's Piece,shrank almost to a point, crossed the bridge, andascended from the valley through Springmead andWhitepits on the other side. The cottage to whichGabriel had retired before taking his final departurefrom the locality was visible as a white spot on theopposite hill, backed by blue firs. Bathsheba walkedup and down. The men entered the field andendeavoured to ease the anguish of the dumb creaturesby rubbing them. Nothing availed.Bathsheba continued walking. The horse was seendescending the hill, and the wearisome series had to berepeated in reverse order: Whitepits, Springmead,Cappel's Piece, The Flats, Middle Field, Sheeplands,Sixteen Acres. She hoped Tall had had presence ofmind enough to give the mare up to Gabriel, and returnhimself on foot. The rider neared them. It was Tall.”O, what folly!” said Bathsheba.Gabriel was not visible anywhere.”Perhaps he is already gone!” she said.Tall came into the inclosure, and leapt off, his facetragic as Morton's after the battle of Shrewsbury.”Well?” said Bathsheba, unwilling to believe thather verbal lettre-de-cachet could possibly have miscarried.”He says beggars mustn't be choosers.” replied Laban.”What!” said the young farmer, opening her eyesand drawing in her breath for an outburst. JosephPoorgrass retired a few steps behind a hurdle.”He says he shall not come unless you request ento come civilly and in a proper manner, as becomes any”woman begging a favour.””Oh, oh, that's his answer! Where does he get hisairs? Who am I, then, to be treated like that? ShallI beg to a man who has begged to me?”Another of the flock sprang into the air, and felldead.The men looked grave, as if they suppressed opinion.Bathsheba turned aside, her eyes full of tears. Thestrait she was in through pride and shrewishness couldnot be disguised longer: she burst out crying bitterly;they all saw it; and she attempted no further concealment.”I wouldn't cry about it, miss.” said William Small-bury, compassionately. ”Why not ask him softer like?I'm sure he'd come then. Gable is a true man in thatway.”Bathsheba checked her grief and wiped her eyes.”O, it is a wicked cruelty to me -- it is -- it is!” shemurmured. ”And he drives me to do what I wouldn't;yes, he does! -- Tall, come indoors.”After this collapse, not very dignified for the headof an establishment, she went into the house, Tall ather heels. Here she sat down and hastily scribbled anote between the small convulsive sobs of convalescencewhich follow a fit of crying as a ground-swell follows astorm. The note was none the less polite for beingwritten in a hurry. She held it at a distance, wasabout to fold it, then added these words at thebottom: --”Do not desert me, Gabriel!”She looked a little redder in refolding it, and closedher lips, as if thereby to suspend till too late the actionof conscience in examining whether such strategy werejustifiable. The note was despatched as the messagehad been, and Bathsheba waited indoors for the result.It was an anxious quarter of an hour that intervenedbetween the messenger's departure and the sound of thehorse's tramp again outside. She- could not watch thistime, but, leaning over the old bureau at which she hadwritten the letter, closed her eyes, as if to keep out bothhope and fear. The case, however, was a promising one. Gabrielwas not angry: he was simply neutral, although her firstcommand had been so haughty. Such imperiousnesswould have damned a little less beauty; and on theother hand, such beauty would have redeemed a littleless imperiousness.She went out when the horse was heard, and lookedup. A mounted figure passed between her and thesky, and drew on towards the field of sheep, the riderturning his face in receding. Gabriel looked at her.It was a moment when a woman's eyes and tongue telldistinctly opposite tales. Bathsheba looked full ofgratitude, and she said: -- ”O, Gabriel, how could you serve me so unkindly!”Such a tenderly-shaped reproach for his previousdelay was the one speech in the language that he couldpardon for not being commendation of his readinessnow.Gabriel murmured a confused reply, and hastenedon. She knew from the look which sentence in hernote had brought him. Bathsheba followed to thefield.Gabriel was already among the turgid, prostrate forms.He had flung off his coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves,and taken from his pocket the instrument of salvation.It was a small tube or trochar, with a lance passingdown the inside; and Gabriel began to use it with adexterity that would have graced a hospital surgeon.Passing his hand over the sheep's left flank, andselecting the proper point, he punctured the skin andrumen with the lance as it stood in the tube; then hesuddenly withdrew the lance, retaining the tube in itsplace. A current of air rushed up the tube, forcibleenough to have extinguished a candle held at theorifice.It has been said that mere ease after torment is de-light for a time; and the countenances of these poorcreatures expressed it now. Forty-nine operations weresuccessfully performed. Owing to the great hurrynecessitated by the far-gone state of some of the flock,Gabriel missed his aim in one case, and in one only --striking wide of the mark, and inflicting a mortal blowat once upon the suffering ewe. Four had died; threerecovered without an operation. The total number ofsheep which had thus strayed and injured themselvesso dangerously was fifty-seven.When the love-led man had ceased from his labours,Bathsheba came and looked him in the face.”Gabriel, will you stay on with me?” she, said,smiling winningly, and not troubling to bring her lipsquite together again at the end, because there was goingto be another smile soon.”I will.” said Gabriel.And she smiled on him again.



CHAPTER XXII