Page 52 of Far from the Madding Crowd

CONVERGING COURSES

ICHRISTMAS-EVE came, and a party that Boldwoodwas to give in the evening was the great subject of talkin Weatherbury. It was not that the rarity of Christmasparties in the parish made this one a wonder, but thatBoldwood should be the giver. The announcementhad had an abnormal and incongruous sound, as if oneshould hear of croquet-playing in a cathedral aisle, orthat some much-respected judge was going upon thestage. That the party was intended to be a truly jovialone there was no room for doubt. A large bough ofmistletoe had been brought from the woods that day, andsuspended in the hall of the bachelor's home. Hollyand ivy had followed in armfuls. From six that morningtill past noon the huge wood fire in the kitchen roaredand sparkled at its highest, the kettle, the saucepan, andthe threelegged pot appearing in the midst of the flameslike Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego; moreover,roasting and basting operations were continuallycarried on in front of the genial blaze.As it grew later the fire was made up in the largelong hall into which the staircase descended, and allencumbrances were cleared out for dancing. The logwhich was to form the back-brand of the evening firewas the uncleft trunk of a tree, so unwieldy that it couldbe neither brought nor rolled to its place; and accord-ingly two men were to be observed dragging and heavingit in by chains and levers as the hour of assembly drewnear. IIIn spite of all this, the spirit of revelry was wantingIn the atmosphere of the house. Such a thing hadnever been attempted before by its owner, and it wasnow done as by a wrench. Intended gaieties wouldinsist upon appearing like solemn grandeurs, the organ-ization of the whole effort was carried out coldly, byhirelings, and a shadow seemed to move about therooms, saying that the proceedings were unnatural tothe place and the lone man who lived therein, and hencenot good.Bathsheba was at this time in her room, dressing forthe event. She had called for candles, and Liddyentered and placed one on each side of her mistress'sglass.”Don't go away, Liddy.” said Bathsheba, almosttimidly.” I am foolishly agitated-i cannot tell why.I wish I had not been obliged to go to this dance; butthere's no escaping now. I have not spoken to Mr.Boldwood since the autumn, when I promised to seehim at Christmas on business, but I had no idea therewas to be anything of this kind.””But I would go now.” said Liddy, who was goingwith her; for Boldwood had been indiscriminate in hisinvitations.”Yes, I shall make my appearance, of course.” saidBathsheba.” But I am THE CAUSE of the party, and thatupsets me! -- Don't tell, Liddy.””O no, ma'am, You the cause of it, ma'am?””Yes. I am the reason of the party-i. If it hadnot been for me, there would never have been one. Ican't explain any more -- there's no more to be explained.I wish I had never seen Weatherbury.””That's wicked of you -- to wish to be worse off thanyou are.””No, Liddy. I have never been free from troublesince I have lived here, and this party is likely to bringme more. Now, fetch my black silk dress, and see howit sits upon me.””But you will leave off that, surely, ma'am? Youhave been a widowlady fourteen months, and ought tobrighten up a little on such a night as this.””Is it necessary? No; I will appear as usual, for ifI were to wear any light dress people would say thingsabout me, and I should seem to he rejoicing when I amsolemn all the time. The party doesn't suit me a bit;but never mind, stay and help to finish me off.” IIIBoldwood was dressing also at this hour. A tailorfrom Casterbridge was with him, assisting him in theoperation of trying on a new coat that had just beenbrought home.Never had Boldwood been so fastidious, unreasonableabout the fit, and generally difficult to please. Thetailor walked round and round him, tugged at the waist,pulled the sleeve, pressed out the collar, and for thefirst time in his experience Boldwood was not bored-Times had been when the farmer had exclaimed againstall such niceties as childish, but now no philosophic orhasty rebuke whatever was provoked by this man forattaching as much importance to a crease in the coatas to an earthquake in South America. Boldwood atlast expressed himself nearly satisfied, and paid the bill,the tailor passing out of the door just as Oak came into report progress for the day.”Oh, Oak.” said Boldwood. ”I shall of course seeyou here to-night. Make yourself merry. I am deter-mined that neither expense nor trouble shall be spared.””I'll try to be here, sir, though perhaps it may notbe very early.” said Gabriel, quietly. ”I am glad indeedto see such a change in 'ee from what it used to be.””Yes-i must own it-i am bright to-night: cheerfuland more than cheerful-so much so that I am almostsad again with the sense that all of it is passing away.And sometimes, when I am excessively hopeful andblithe, a trouble is looming in the distance: so that Ioften get to look upon gloom in me with content, andto fear a happy mood. Still this may be absurd-i feelthat it is absurd. Perhaps my day is dawning at last.””I hope it 'ill be a long and a fair one.””Thank you -- thank you. Yet perhaps my cheerfulmess rests on a slender hope. And yet I trust my hope.It is faith, not hope. I think this time I reckon withmy host. -- Oak, my hands are a little shaky, or some-thing; I can't tie this neckerchief properly. Perhapsyou will tie it for me. The fact is, I have not been welllately, you know.””I am sorry to hear that, sir.””Oh, it's nothing. I want it done as well as you can,please. Is there any late knot in fashion, Oak?””I don't know, sir.” said Oak. His tone had sunk tosadness.Boldwood approached Gabriel, and as Oak tied theneckerchief the farmer went on feverishly --”Does a woman keep her promise, Gabriel?””If it is not inconvenient to her she may.””-- Or rather an implied promise.””I won't answer for her implying.” said Oak, withfaint bitterness. ”That's a word as full o' holes as asieve with them.”Oak, don't talk like that. You have got quitecynical lately -- how is it? We seem to have shifted ourpositions: I have become the young and hopeful man,and you the old and unbelieving one. However, doesa woman keep a promise, not to marry, but to enter onan engagement to marry at some time? Now youknow women better than I -- tell me.””I am afeard you honour my understanding too much.However, she may keep such a promise, if it is madewith an honest meaning to repair a wrong.””It has not gone far yet, but I think it will soon --yes, I know it will.” he said, in an impulsive whisper.”I have pressed her upon the subject, and she inclinesto be kind to me, and to think of me as a husband ata long future time, and that's enough for me. Howcan I expect more? She has a notion that a womanshould not marry within seven years of her husband'sdisappearance -- that her own self shouldn't, I mean --because his body was not found. It may be merelythis legal reason which influences her, or it may be areligious one, but she is reluctant to talk on the point-Yet she has promised -- implied -- that she will ratify anengagement to-night.””Seven years.” murmured Oak.”No, no -- it's no such thing!” he said, with im-patience. Five years, nine months, and a few days.Fifteen months nearly have passed since he vanished,and is there anything so wonderful in an engagement oflittle more than five years?””It seems long in a forward view. Don't build toomuch upon such promises, sir. Remember, you haveonce be'n deceived. Her meaning may be good; butthere -- she's young yet.””Deceived? Never!” said Boldwood, vehemently.”She never promised me at that first time, and henceshe did not break her promise! If she promises me,she'll marry me, Bathsheba is a woman to her word.” IVTroy was sitting in a corner of The White Harttavern at Casterbridge, smoking and drinking a steamingmixture from a glass. A knock was given at the door,and Pennyways entered.”Well, have you seen him?” Troy inquired, pointingto a chair.”Boldwood?””No -- Lawyer Long.””He wadn' at home. I went there first, too.””That's a nuisance.””'Tis rather, I suppose.””Yet I don't see that, because a man appears to bedrowned and was not, he should be liable for anything.I shan't ask any lawyer -- not I.””But that's not it, exactly. If a man changes hisname and so forth, and takes steps to deceive the worldand his own wife, he's a cheat, and that in the eye ofthe law is ayless a rogue, and that is ayless a lammockenvagabond; and that's a punishable situation.””Ha-ha! Well done, Pennyways.” Troy had laughed,but it was with some anxiety that he said, ”Now, whatI want to know is this, do you think there's reallyanything going on between her and Boldwood? Uponmy soul, I should never have believed it! How she.must detest me! Have you found out whether shehas encouraged him?””I haen't been able to learn. There's a deal offeeling on his side seemingly, but I don't answer forher. I didn't know a word about any such thing tillyesterday, and all I heard then was that she was gwineto the party at his house to-night. This is the firsttime she has ever gone there, they say. And they saythat she've not so much as spoke to him since they wereat Greenhill Fair: but what can folk believe o't? How-ever, she's not fond of him -- quite offish and quite careless, I know.””I'm not so sure of that.... She's a handsomewoman, Pennyways, is she not? Own that you neversaw a finer or more splendid creature in your life.Upon my honour, when I set eyes upon her that dayI wondered what I could have been made of to be ableto leave her by herself so long. And then I washampered with that bothering show, which I'm free ofat last, thank the stars.” He smoked on awhile, andthen added, ”How did she look when you passed byyesterday?””Oh, she took no great heed of me, ye may wellfancy; but she looked well enough, far's I know. Justflashed her haughty eyes upon my poor scram body, andthen let them go past me to what was yond, much as ifI'd been no more than a leafless tree. She had just gotoff her mare to look at the last wring-down of cider forthe year; she had been riding, and so her colours wereup and her breath rather quick, so that her bosomplimmed and feli-plimmed and feli-every time plainto my eye. Ay, and there were the fellers round herwringing down the cheese and bustling about andsaying, Ware o' the pommy, ma'am: 'twill spoil yergown. ”Never mind me,” says she. Then Gabebrought her some of the new cider, and she mustneeds go drinking it through a strawmote, and not ina nateral way at all. ”Liddy,” says she, ”bring indoorsa few gallons, and I'll make some cider-wine.” Sergeant,I was no more to her than a morsel of scroffin the fuelhouse!””I must go and find her out at once -- O yes, I seethat-i must go. Oak is head man still, isn't he?””Yes, 'a b'lieve. And at Little Weatherbury Farmtoo. He manages everything.””Twill puzzle him to manage her, or any other manof his compass!””I don't know about that. She can't do withouthim, and knowing it well he's pretty independent.And she've a few soft corners to her mind, thoughI've never been able to get into one, the devil's in't!””Ah baily she's a notch above you, and you mustown it: a higher class of animal-a finer tissue. How-ever, stick to me, and neither this haughty goddess,dashing piece of womanhood, Juno-wife of mine (Junowas a goddess, you know), nor anybody else shall hurtyou. But all this wants looking into, I perceive.What with one thing and another, I see that my workis well cut out for me.” V”How do I look to-night, Liddy?” said Bathsheba,giving a final adjustment to her dress before leaving theglass.”I never saw you look so well before. Yes-i'll tellyou when you looked like it -- that night, a year and ahalf ago, when you came in so wildlike, and scolded usfor making remarks about you and Mr. Troy.””Everybody will think that I am setting myself tocaptivate Mr. Boldwood, I suppose.” she murmured.”At least they'll say so. Can't my hair be brusheddown a little flatter? I dread going -- yet I dread therisk of wounding him by staying away.”Anyhow, ma'am, you can't well bedressed plainerthan you are, unless you go in sackcloth at once. 'Tisyour excitement is what makes you look so noticeableto-night.””I don't know what's the matter, I feel wretched atone time, and buoyant at another. I wish I could havecontinued quite alone as I have been for the last yearor so, with no hopes and no fears, and no pleasure andno grief.”Now just suppose Mr. Boldwood should ask you -- only just suppose it -- to run away with him, whatwould you do, ma'am?””Liddy -- none of that.” said Bathsheba, gravely.”Mind, I won't hear joking on any such matter. Doyou hear?””I beg pardon, ma'am. But knowing what rumthings we women be, I just said -- however, I won'tspeak of it again.””No marrying for me yet for many a year; if ever,”twill be for reasons very, very different from those youthink, or others will believe! Now get my cloak, for itis time to go.” VI”Oak, said Boldwood, ”before you go I want tomention what has been passing in my mind lately --that little arrangement we made about your share in thefarm I mean. That share is small, too small, consider-ing how little I attend to business now, and how muchtime and thought you give to it. Well, since the worldis brightening for me, I want to show my sense of itby increasing your proportion in the partnership. I'llmake a memorandum of the arrangement which struckme as likely to be convenient, for I haven't time to talkabout it now; and then we'll discuss it at our leisure.My intention is ultimately to retire from the manage-ment altogether, and until you can take all the expendi-ture upon your shoulders, I'll be a sleeping partner inthe stock. Then, if I marry her -- and I hope-i feel Ishall, why -- -- ””Pray don't speak of it, sir.” said Oak, hastily. ”Wedon't know what may happen. So many upsets maybefall 'ee. There's many a slip, as they say -- and Iwould advise you-i know you'll pardon me this once --not to be TOO SURE.””I know, I know. But the feeling I have about in-creasing your share is on account of what I know of youOak, I have learnt a little about your secret: yourinterest in her is more than that of bailiff for an em-ployer. But you have behaved like a man, and I, as asort of successful rival-successful partly through yourgoodness of heart -- should like definitely to show mysense of your friendship under what must have been agreat pain to you.””O that's not necessary, thank 'ee.” said Oak,hurriedly. ”I must get used to such as that; othermen have, and so shall I.”Oak then left him. He was uneasy on Boldwood'saccount, for he saw anew that this constant passionof the farmer made him not the man he once hadbeen.As Boldwood continued awhile in his room alone --ready and dressed to receive his company -- the mood ofanxiety about his appearance seemed to pass away, andto be succeeded by a deep solemnity. He looked outof the window, and regarded the dim outline of the treesupon the sky, and the twilight deepening to darkness.Then he went to a locked closet, and took froma locked drawer therein a small circular case the size ofa pillbox, and was about to put it into his pocket. Buthe lingered to open the cover and take a momentaryglance inside. It contained a woman's finger-ring, setall the way round with small diamonds, and from itsappearance had evidently been recently purchased.Boldwood's eyes dwelt upon its many sparkles a longtime, though that its material aspect concerned himlittle was plain from his manner and mien, which werethose of a mind following out the presumed thread ofthat jewel's future history.The noise of wheels at the front of the house becameaudible. Boldwood closed the box, stowed it awaycarefully in his pocket, and went out upon the landing.The old man who was his indoor factotum came at thesame moment to the foot of the stairs.”They be coming, sir -- lots of 'em -- a-foot and a-driving!””I was coming down this moment. Those wheels Iheard -- is it Mrs. Troy?””No, sir -- 'tis not she yet.”A reserved and sombre expression had returned toBoldwood's face again, but it poorly cloaked his feel-ings when he pronounced Bathsheba's name; and hisfeverish anxiety continued to show its existence by agalloping motion of his fingers upon the side of his thighas he went down the stairs. VII”How does this cover me?” said Troy to Pennyways,”Nobody would recognize me now, I'm sure.”He was buttoning on a heavy grey overcoat ofNoachian cut, with cape and high collar, the latter beingerect and rigid, like a girdling wall, and nearly reachingto the verge of travelling cap which was pulled downover his ears.Pennyways snuffed the candle, and then looked upand deliberately inspected Troy”You've made up your mind to go then?” hesaid.”Made up my mind? Yes; of course I have.””Why not write to her? 'Tis a very queer cornerthat you have got into, sergeant. You see all these thingswill come to light if you go back, and they won't soundwell at all. Faith, if I was you I'd even bide as you be -- a single man of the name of Francis. A good wife isgood, but the best wife is not so good as no wife at all.Now that's my outspoke mind, and I've been called along-headed feller here and there.””All nonsense!” said Troy, angrily. ”There she iswith plenty of money, and a house and farm, andhorses, and comfort, and here am I living from hand tomouth -- a needy adventurer. Besides, it is no usetalking now; it is too late, and I am glad of it; I've beenseen and recognized here this very afternoon. I shouldhave gone back to her the day after the fair, if it hadn'tbeen for you talking about the law, and rubbish aboutgetting a separation and I don't put it off any longer.What the deuce put it into my head to run away at all,I can't think! Humbugging sentiment -- that's what itwas. But what man on earth was to know that his wifewould be in such a hurry to get rid of his name!””I should have known it. She's bad enough foranything.””Pennyways, mind who you are talking to.””Well, sergeant, all I say is this, that if I were you I'dgo abroad again where I came from -- 'tisn't too late to doit now. I wouldn't stir up the business and get a badname for the sake of living with her -- for all that aboutyour play-acting is sure to come out, you know, althoughyou think otherwise. My eyes and limbs, there'll be aracket if you go back just now -- in the middle of Bold-wood's Christmasing!””H'm, yes. I expect I shall not be a very welcomeguest if he has her there.” said the sergeant, with a slightlaugh. ”A sort of Alonzo the Brave; and when I go inthe guests will sit in silence and fear, and all laughterand pleasure will be hushed, and the lights in thechamber burn blue, and the worms -- Ugh, horrible! --Ring for some more brandy, Pennyways, I felt anawful shudder just then! Well, what is there besides?A stick-i must have a walking-stick.”Pennyways now felt himself to be in something of adifficulty, for should Bathsheba and Troy become recon-ciled it would be necessary to regain her good opinionif he would secure the patronage of her husband. Isometimes think she likes you yet, and is a good womanat bottom.” he said, as a saving sentence. ”But there'sno telling to a certainty from a body's outside. Well,you'll do as you like about going, of course, sergeant,and as for me, I'll do as you tell me.””Now, let me see what the time is.” said Troy, afteremptying his glass in one draught as he stood. 'Half-past six o'clock. I shall not hurry along the road, andshall be there then before nine.”



CHAPTER LIII