PARTICULARS OF A TWILIGHT WALK
WE now see the element of folly distinctly minglingwith the many varying particulars which made up thecharacter of Bathsheba Everdene. It was almost foreignto her intrinsic nature. Introduced as lymph on thedart of Eros, it eventually permeated and colouredher whole constitution. Bathsheba, though she had toomuch understanding to be entirely governed by herwomanliness, had too much womanliness to use herunderstanding to the best advantage. Perhaps in nominor point does woman astonish her helpmate morethan in the strange power she possesses of believingcajoleries that she knows to be false -- except, indeed, inthat of being utterly sceptical on strictures that sheknows to be true.Bathsheba loved Troy in the way that only self-reliantwomen love when they abandon their self-reliance.When a strong woman recklessly throws away herstrength she is worse than a weak woman who has neverhad any strength to throw away. One source of herinadequacy is the novelty of the occasion. She hasnever had practice in making the best of such acondition. Weakness is doubly weak by being new.Bathsheba was not conscious of guile in this matter.Though in one sense a woman of the world, it was, afterall, that world of daylight coteries and green carpetswherein cattle form the passing crowd and winds thebusy hum; where a quiet family of rabbits or hares liveson the other side of your party-wall, where your neigh-bour is everybody in the tything, and where calculationformulated self-indulgence of bad, nothing at all. Hadher utmost thoughts in this direction been distinctlyworded (and by herself they never were), they wouldonly have amounted to such a matter as that she felther impulses to be pleasanter guides than her discretion .Her love was entire as a child's, and though warm assummer it was fresh as spring. Her culpability lay inher making no attempt to control feeling by subtle andcareful inquiry into consciences. She could show othersthe steep and thorny way, but 'reck'd not her own rede,And Troy's deformities lay deep down from awoman's vision, whilst his embellishments were uponthe very surface; thus contrasting with homely Oak,whose defects were patent to the blindest, and whosevertues were as metals in a mine.The difference between love and respect was mark-edly shown in her conduct. Bathsheba had spoken ofher interest in Boldwood with the greatest freedom toLiddy, but she had only communed with her own heartconcerning Troy.All this infatuation Gabriel saw, and was troubledthereby from the time of his daily journey a-field to thetime of his return, and on to the small hours of many anight. That he was not beloved had hitherto been hisgreat that Bathsheba was getting into the toilswas now a sorrow greater than the first, and one whichnearly obscured it. It was a result which paralleledthe oft-quoted observation of Hippocrates concerningphysical pains.That is a noble though perhaps an unpromising lovewhich not even the fear of breeding aversion in thebosom of the one beloved can deter from combating hisor her errors. Oak determined to speak to his mistress.He would base his appeal on what he considered herunfair treatment of Farmer Boldwood, now absent fromhome.An opportunity occurred one evening when she hadgone for a short walk by a path through the neighbour-ing cornfields. It was dusk when Oak, who had notbeen far a-field that day, took the same path and mether returning, quite pensively, as he thought.The wheat was now tall, and the path was narrow;thus the way was quite a sunken groove between theembowing thicket on either side. Two persons couldnot walk abreast without damaging the crop, and Oakstood aside to let her pass.Oh, is it Gabriel? she said. You are taking awalk too. Good-night.I thought I would come to meet you, as it is ratherlate, said Oak, turning and following at her heels whenshe had brushed somewhat quickly by him.Thank you, indeed, but I am not very fearful.O no; but there are bad characters about.I never meet them.Now Oak, with marvellous ingenuity, had been goingto introduce the gallant sergeant through the channel ofbad characters. But all at once the scheme brokedown, it suddenly occurring to him that this was rather aclumsy way, and too barefaced to begin with. He triedanother preamble.And as the man who would naturally come to meetyou is away from home, too -- I mean Farmer Boldwood -- why, thinks I, I'll go. he said.Ah, yes. She walked on without turning her head,and for many steps nothing further was heard from herquarter than the rustle of her dress against the heavycorn-ears. Then she resumed rather tartly --I don't quite understand what you meant by sayingthat Mr. Boldwood would naturally come to meet me.I meant on account of the wedding which they sayis likely to take place between you and him, miss. For-give my speaking plainly.They say what is not true. she returned quickly.No marriage is likely to take place between us.Gabriel now put forth his unobscured opinion, forthe moment had come. Well, Miss Everdene. hesaid, putting aside what people say, I never in my lifesaw any courting if his is not a courting of you.Bathsheba would probably have terminated the con-versation there and then by flatly forbidding the subject,had not her conscious weakness of position allured herto palter and argue in endeavours to better it.Since this subject has been mentioned. she saidvery emphatically, I am glad of the opportunity ofclearing up a mistake which is very common and veryprovoking. I didn't definitely promise Mr. Boldwoodanything. I have never cared for him. I respect him,and he has urged me to marry him. But I have givenhim no distinct answer. As soon as he returns I shalldo so; and the answer will be that I cannot think ofmarrying him.People are full of mistakes, seemingly.They are.The other day they said you were trifling with him,and you almost proved that you were not; lately theyhave said that you be not, and you straightway beginto show -- -- That I am, I suppose you mean.Well, I hope they speak the truth.They do, but wrongly applied. I don't trifle withhim; but then, I have nothing to do with him.Oak was unfortunately led on to speak of Boldwood'srival in a wrong tone to her after all. I wish you hadnever met that young Sergeant Troy, miss. he sighed.
Bathsheba's steps became faintly spasmodic. Why?she asked.He is not good enough for 'ee.Did any one tell you to speak to me like this?Nobody at all.Then it appears to me that Sergeant Troy does notconcern us here. she said, intractably. Yet I must saythat Sergeant Troy is an educated man, and quite worthyof any woman. He is well born.His being higher in learning and birth than theruck o' soldiers is anything but a proof of his worth. Itshow's his course to be down'ard.I cannot see what this has to do with our conversa-tion. Mr. Troy's course is not by any means downward;and his superiority IS a proof of his worth!I believe him to have no conscience at all. And Icannot help begging you, miss, to have nothing to dowith him. Listen to me this once -- only this once!I don't say he's such a bad man as I have fancied -- Ipray to God he is not. But since we don't exactlyknow what he is, why not behave as if he MIGHT be bad,simply for your own safety? Don't trust him, mistress;I ask you not to trust him so.Why, pray?I like soldiers, but this one I do not like. he said,sturdily. His cleverness in his calling may havetempted him astray, and what is mirth to the neighboursis ruin to the woman. When he tries to talk to 'ee again,why not turn away with a short Good day, and whenyou see him coming one way, turn the other. Whenhe says anything laughable, fail to see the pointand don't smile, and speak of him before those who willreport your talk as that fantastical man. or thatSergeant What's-his-name. That man of a familythat has come to the dogs. Don't be unmannerlytowards en, but harmless-uncivil, and so get rid of theman.No Christmas robin detained by a window-pane everpulsed as did Bathsheba now.I say -- I say again -- that it doesn't become you totalk about him. Why he should be mentioned passesme quite . she exclaimed desperately. I know this,th-th-that he is a thoroughly conscientious man -- bluntsometimes even to rudeness -- but always speaking hismind about you plain to your face!Oh.He is as good as anybody in this parish! He isvery particular, too, about going to church -- yes, heis!I am afraid nobody saw him there. I neverdid certainly.The reason of that is. she said eagerly, that he goesin privately by the old tower door, just when the servicecommences, and sits at the back of the gallery. Hetold me so.This supreme instance of Troy's goodness fell uponGabriel ears like the thirteenth stroke of crazy clock.It was not only received with utter incredulity as re-garded itself, but threw a doubt on all the assurancesthat had preceded it.Oak was grieved to find how entirely she trusted him.He brimmed with deep feeling as he replied in a steadyvoice, the steadiness of which was spoilt by the palpable-ness of his great effort to keep it so: --You know, mistress, that I love you, and shall loveyou always. I only mention this to bring to your mindthat at any rate I would wish to do you no harm:beyond that I put it aside. I have lost in the race formoney and good things, and I am not such a fool as topretend to 'ee now I am poor, and you have got alto-gether above me. But Bathsheba, dear mistress, thisI beg you to consider -- that, both to keep yourself wellhonoured among the workfolk, and in common generosityto an honourable man who loves you as well as I, youPARTICULARS OF A TWILIGHT WALKshould be more discreet in your bearing towards thissoldier.Don't, don't, don't! she exclaimed, in a chokingvoice.Are ye not more to me than my own affairs, andeven life! he went on. Come, listen to me! I amsix years older than you, and Mr. Boldwood is ten yearsolder than I, and consider -- I do beg of 'ee to considerbefore it is too late -- how safe you would be in hishands!Oak's allusion to his own love for her lessened, tosome extent, her anger at his interference; but shecould not really forgive him for letting his wish to marryher be eclipsed by his wish to do her good, any morethan for his slighting treatment of Troy.I wish you to go elsewhere. she commanded, apaleness of face invisible to the eye being suggested bythe trembling words. Do not remain on this farm anylonger. I don't want you -- I beg you to go!That's nonsense. said Oak, calmly. This is thesecond time you have pretended to dismiss me; andwhat's the use o' it?Pretended! You shall go, sir -- your lecturing Iwill not hear! I am mistress here.Go, indeed -- what folly will you say next? Treatingme like Dick, Tom and Harry when you know that ashort time ago my position was as good as yours! Uponmy life, Bathsheba, it is too barefaced. You know, too,that I can't go without putting things in such a strait asyou wouldn't get out of I can't tell when. Unless, indeed,you'll promise to have an understanding man as bailiff,or manager, or something. I'll go at once if you'llpromise that.I shall have no bailiff; I shall continue to be myown manager. she said decisively.Very well, then; you should be thankful to me forbiding. How would the farm go on with nobody tomind it but a woman? But mind this, I don't wishee to feel you owe me anything. Not I. What I do,I do. Sometimes I say I should be as glad as a bird toleave the place -- for don't suppose I'm content to be anobody. I was made for better things. However, Idon't like to see your concerns going to ruin, as theymust if you keep in this mind.... I hate taking myown measure so plain, but, upon my life, your provok-ing ways make a man say what he wouldn't dream ofat other times! I own to being rather interfering. Butyou know well enough how it is, and who she is that Ilike too well, and feel too much like a fool about to becivil to her!It is more than probable that she privately and un-consciously respected him a little for this grim fidelity,which had been shown in his tone even more than inhis words. At any rate she murmured something to theeffect that he might stay if he wished. She said moredistinctly, Will you leave me alone now? I don'torder it as a mistress -- I ask it as a woman, and Iexpect you not to be so uncourteous as to refuse.Certainly I will, Miss Everdene. said Gabriel, gently.He wondered that the request should have come at thismoment, for the strife was over, and they were on amost desolate hill, far from every human habitation, andthe hour was getting late. He stood still and allowedher to get far ahead of him till he could only see herform upon the sky.A distressing explanation of this anxiety to be rid ofhim at that point now ensued. A figure apparently rosefrom the earth beside her. The shape beyond all doubtwas Troy's. Oak would not be even a possible listener,and at once turned back till a good two hundred yardswere between the lovers and himself.Gabriel went home by way of the churchyard. Inpassing the tower he thought of what she had said aboutthe sergeant's virtuous habit of entering the church un-PARTICULARS OF A TWILIGHT WALKperceived at the beginning of service. Believing thatthe little gallery door alluded to was quite disused, heascended the external flight of steps at the top of whichit stood, and examined it. The pale lustre yet hangingin the north-western heaven was sufficient to show thata sprig of ivy had grown from the wall across the doorto a length of more than a foot, delicately tying thepanel to the stone jamb. It was a decisive proof thatthe door had not been opened at least since Troy cameback to Weatherbury.
CHAPTER XXX