4--Eustacia Is Led on to an Adventure
In the evening of this last day of expectation, which was thetwenty-third of December, Eustacia was at home alone. She had passedthe recent hour in lamenting over a rumour newly come to her ears--thatYeobright's visit to his mother was to be of short duration, and wouldend some time the next week. Naturally, she said to herself. A manin the full swing of his activities in a gay city could not afford tolinger long on Egdon Heath. That she would behold face to face the ownerof the awakening voice within the limits of such a holiday was mostunlikely, unless she were to haunt the environs of his mother's houselike a robin, to do which was difficult and unseemly.
The customary expedient of provincial girls and men in suchcircumstances is churchgoing. In an ordinary village or country townone can safely calculate that, either on Christmas day or the Sundaycontiguous, any native home for the holidays, who has not through age orennui lost the appetite for seeing and being seen, will turn up in somepew or other, shining with hope, self-consciousness, and new clothes.Thus the congregation on Christmas morning is mostly a Tussaudcollection of celebrities who have been born in the neighbourhood.Hither the mistress, left neglected at home all the year, can steal andobserve the development of the returned lover who has forgotten her, andthink as she watches him over her prayer book that he may throb witha renewed fidelity when novelties have lost their charm. And hithera comparatively recent settler like Eustacia may betake herself toscrutinize the person of a native son who left home before her adventupon the scene, and consider if the friendship of his parents be worthcultivating during his next absence in order to secure a knowledge ofhim on his next return.
But these tender schemes were not feasible among the scatteredinhabitants of Egdon Heath. In name they were parishioners, butvirtually they belonged to no parish at all. People who came to thesefew isolated houses to keep Christmas with their friends remainedin their friends' chimney-corners drinking mead and other comfortingliquors till they left again for good and all. Rain, snow, ice, mudeverywhere around, they did not care to trudge two or three miles tosit wet-footed and splashed to the nape of their necks among thosewho, though in some measure neighbours, lived close to the church, andentered it clean and dry. Eustacia knew it was ten to one that ClymYeobright would go to no church at all during his few days of leave, andthat it would be a waste of labour for her to go driving the pony andgig over a bad road in hope to see him there.
It was dusk, and she was sitting by the fire in the dining-room orhall, which they occupied at this time of the year in preference to theparlour, because of its large hearth, constructed for turf-fires, afuel the captain was partial to in the winter season. The only visiblearticles in the room were those on the window-sill, which showed theirshapes against the low sky, the middle article being the old hourglass,and the other two a pair of ancient British urns which had been dugfrom a barrow near, and were used as flowerpots for two razor-leavedcactuses. Somebody knocked at the door. The servant was out; so was hergrandfather. The person, after waiting a minute, came in and tapped atthe door of the room.
Who's there? said Eustacia.
Please, Cap'n Vye, will you let us----
Eustacia arose and went to the door. I cannot allow you to come in soboldly. You should have waited.
The cap'n said I might come in without any fuss, was answered in alad's pleasant voice.
Oh, did he? said Eustacia more gently. What do you want, Charley?
Please will your grandfather lend us his fuelhouse to try over ourparts in, tonight at seven o'clock?
What, are you one of the Egdon mummers for this year?
Yes, miss. The cap'n used to let the old mummers practise here.
I know it. Yes, you may use the fuelhouse if you like, said Eustacialanguidly.
The choice of Captain Vye's fuelhouse as the scene of rehearsal wasdictated by the fact that his dwelling was nearly in the centre of theheath. The fuelhouse was as roomy as a barn, and was a most desirableplace for such a purpose. The lads who formed the company of playerslived at different scattered points around, and by meeting in this spotthe distances to be traversed by all the comers would be about equallyproportioned.
For mummers and mumming Eustacia had the greatest contempt. The mummersthemselves were not afflicted with any such feeling for their art,though at the same time they were not enthusiastic. A traditionalpastime is to be distinguished from a mere revival in no more strikingfeature than in this, that while in the revival all is excitement andfervour, the survival is carried on with a stolidity and absence ofstir which sets one wondering why a thing that is done so perfunctorilyshould be kept up at all. Like Balaam and other unwilling prophets, theagents seem moved by an inner compulsion to say and do their allottedparts whether they will or no. This unweeting manner of performance isthe true ring by which, in this refurbishing age, a fossilized survivalmay be known from a spurious reproduction.
The piece was the well-known play of Saint George, and all who werebehind the scenes assisted in the preparations, including the women ofeach household. Without the co-operation of sisters and sweethearts thedresses were likely to be a failure; but on the other hand, this classof assistance was not without its drawbacks. The girls could never bebrought to respect tradition in designing and decorating the armour;they insisted on attaching loops and bows of silk and velvet in anysituation pleasing to their taste. Gorget, gusset, basinet, cuirass,gauntlet, sleeve, all alike in the view of these feminine eyes werepracticable spaces whereon to sew scraps of fluttering colour.
It might be that Joe, who fought on the side of Christendom, had asweetheart, and that Jim, who fought on the side of the Moslem, hadone likewise. During the making of the costumes it would come to theknowledge of Joe's sweetheart that Jim's was putting brilliant silkscallops at the bottom of her lover's surcoat, in addition to theribbons of the visor, the bars of which, being invariably formed ofcoloured strips about half an inch wide hanging before the face, weremostly of that material. Joe's sweetheart straight-way placed brilliantsilk on the scallops of the hem in question, and, going a littlefurther, added ribbon tufts to the shoulder pieces. Jim's, not to beoutdone, would affix bows and rosettes everywhere.
The result was that in the end the Valiant Soldier, of the Christianarmy, was distinguished by no peculiarity of accoutrement from theTurkish Knight; and what was worse, on a casual view Saint Georgehimself might be mistaken for his deadly enemy, the Saracen. The guisersthemselves, though inwardly regretting this confusion of persons, couldnot afford to offend those by whose assistance they so largely profited,and the innovations were allowed to stand.
There was, it is true, a limit to this tendency to uniformity. TheLeech or Doctor preserved his character intact--his darker habiliments,peculiar hat, and the bottle of physic slung under his arm, could neverbe mistaken. And the same might be said of the conventional figure ofFather Christmas, with his gigantic club, an older man, who accompaniedthe band as general protector in long night journeys from parish toparish, and was bearer of the purse.
Seven o'clock, the hour of the rehearsal, came round, and in a shorttime Eustacia could hear voices in the fuelhouse. To dissipate in sometrifling measure her abiding sense of the murkiness of human life shewent to the linhay or lean-to shed, which formed the root-store oftheir dwelling and abutted on the fuelhouse. Here was a small rough holein the mud wall, originally made for pigeons, through which the interiorof the next shed could be viewed. A light came from it now; and Eustaciastepped upon a stool to look in upon the scene.
On a ledge in the fuelhouse stood three tall rushlights and by thelight of them seven or eight lads were marching about, haranguing, andconfusing each other, in endeavours to perfect themselves in the play.Humphrey and Sam, the furze-and turf-cutters, were there looking on, soalso was Timothy Fairway, who leant against the wall and promptedthe boys from memory, interspersing among the set words remarks andanecdotes of the superior days when he and others were the Egdonmummers-elect that these lads were now.
Well, ye be as well up to it as ever ye will be, he said. Not thatsuch mumming would have passed in our time. Harry as the Saracen shouldstrut a bit more, and John needn't holler his inside out. Beyond thatperhaps you'll do. Have you got all your clothes ready?
We shall by Monday.
Your first outing will be Monday night, I suppose?
Yes. At Mrs. Yeobright's.
Oh, Mrs. Yeobright's. What makes her want to see ye? I should think amiddle-aged woman was tired of mumming.
She's got up a bit of a party, because 'tis the first Christmas thather son Clym has been home for a long time.
To be sure, to be sure--her party! I am going myself. I almost forgotit, upon my life.
Eustacia's face flagged. There was to be a party at the Yeobrights';she, naturally, had nothing to do with it. She was a stranger to allsuch local gatherings, and had always held them as scarcely appertainingto her sphere. But had she been going, what an opportunity would havebeen afforded her of seeing the man whose influence was penetrating herlike summer sun! To increase that influence was coveted excitement; tocast it off might be to regain serenity; to leave it as it stood wastantalizing.
The lads and men prepared to leave the premises, and Eustacia returnedto her fireside. She was immersed in thought, but not for long. In afew minutes the lad Charley, who had come to ask permission to use theplace, returned with the key to the kitchen. Eustacia heard him, andopening the door into the passage said, Charley, come here.
The lad was surprised. He entered the front room not without blushing;for he, like many, had felt the power of this girl's face and form.
She pointed to a seat by the fire, and entered the other side of thechimney-corner herself. It could be seen in her face that whatevermotive she might have had in asking the youth indoors would soon appear.
Which part do you play, Charley--the Turkish Knight, do you not?inquired the beauty, looking across the smoke of the fire to him on theother side.
Yes, miss, the Turkish Knight, he replied diffidently.
Is yours a long part?
Nine speeches, about.
Can you repeat them to me? If so I should like to hear them.
The lad smiled into the glowing turf and began--
Here come I, a Turkish Knight, Who learnt in Turkish land to fight,
continuing the discourse throughout the scenes to the concludingcatastrophe of his fall by the hand of Saint George.
Eustacia had occasionally heard the part recited before. When the ladended she began, precisely in the same words, and ranted on withouthitch or divergence till she too reached the end. It was the same thing,yet how different. Like in form, it had the added softness and finishof a Raffaelle after Perugino, which, while faithfully reproducing theoriginal subject, entirely distances the original art.
Charley's eyes rounded with surprise. Well, you be a clever lady! hesaid, in admiration. I've been three weeks learning mine.
I have heard it before, she quietly observed. Now, would you doanything to please me, Charley?
I'd do a good deal, miss.
Would you let me play your part for one night?
Oh, miss! But your woman's gown--you couldn't.
I can get boy's clothes--at least all that would be wanted besides themumming dress. What should I have to give you to lend me your things,to let me take your place for an hour or two on Monday night, and on noaccount to say a word about who or what I am? You would, of course, haveto excuse yourself from playing that night, and to say that somebody--acousin of Miss Vye's--would act for you. The other mummers have neverspoken to me in their lives so that it would be safe enough; and if itwere not, I should not mind. Now, what must I give you to agree to this?Half a crown?
The youth shook his head
Five shillings?
He shook his head again. Money won't do it, he said, brushing the ironhead of the firedog with the hollow of his hand.
What will, then, Charley? said Eustacia in a disappointed tone.
You know what you forbade me at the Maypoling, miss, murmured the lad,without looking at her, and still stroking the firedog's head.
Yes, said Eustacia, with a little more hauteur. You wanted to joinhands with me in the ring, if I recollect?
Half an hour of that, and I'll agree, miss.
Eustacia regarded the youth steadfastly. He was three years youngerthan herself, but apparently not backward for his age. Half an hour ofwhat? she said, though she guessed what.
Holding your hand in mine.
She was silent. Make it a quarter of an hour, she said
Yes, Miss Eustacia--I will, if I may kiss it too. A quarter of an hour.And I'll swear to do the best I can to let you take my place withoutanybody knowing. Don't you think somebody might know your tongue, miss?
It is possible. But I will put a pebble in my mouth to make is lesslikely. Very well; you shall be allowed to have my hand as soon as youbring the dress and your sword and staff. I don't want you any longernow.
Charley departed, and Eustacia felt more and more interest in life.Here was something to do: here was some one to see, and a charminglyadventurous way to see him. Ah, she said to herself, want of anobject to live for--that's all is the matter with me!
Eustacia's manner was as a rule of a slumberous sort, her passions beingof the massive rather than the vivacious kind. But when aroused shewould make a dash which, just for the time, was not unlike the move of anaturally lively person.
On the question of recognition she was somewhat indifferent. By theacting lads themselves she was not likely to be known. With the guestswho might be assembled she was hardly so secure. Yet detection, afterall, would be no such dreadful thing. The fact only could be detected,her true motive never. It would be instantly set down as the passingfreak of a girl whose ways were already considered singular. That shewas doing for an earnest reason what would most naturally be done injest was at any rate a safe secret.
The next evening Eustacia stood punctually at the fuelhouse door,waiting for the dusk which was to bring Charley with the trappings.Her grandfather was at home tonight, and she would be unable to ask herconfederate indoors.
He appeared on the dark ridge of heathland, like a fly on a Negro,bearing the articles with him, and came up breathless with his walk.
Here are the things, he whispered, placing them upon the threshold.And now, Miss Eustacia--
The payment. It is quite ready. I am as good as my word.
She leant against the door-post, and gave him her hand. Charley took itin both his own with a tenderness beyond description, unless it was likethat of a child holding a captured sparrow.
Why, there's a glove on it! he said in a deprecating way.
I have been walking, she observed.
But, miss!
Well--it is hardly fair. She pulled off the glove, and gave him herbare hand.
They stood together minute after minute, without further speech, eachlooking at the blackening scene, and each thinking his and her ownthoughts.
I think I won't use it all up tonight, said Charley devotedly, whensix or eight minutes had been passed by him caressing her hand. May Ihave the other few minutes another time?
As you like, said she without the least emotion. But it must be overin a week. Now, there is only one thing I want you to do--to wait whileI put on the dress, and then to see if I do my part properly. But let melook first indoors.
She vanished for a minute or two, and went in. Her grandfather wassafely asleep in his chair. Now, then, she said, on returning, walkdown the garden a little way, and when I am ready I'll call you.
Charley walked and waited, and presently heard a soft whistle. Hereturned to the fuelhouse door.
Did you whistle, Miss Vye?
Yes; come in, reached him in Eustacia's voice from a back quarter.I must not strike a light till the door is shut, or it may be seenshining. Push your hat into the hole through to the wash-house, if youcan feel your way across.
Charley did as commanded, and she struck the light revealing herselfto be changed in sex, brilliant in colours, and armed from top to toe.Perhaps she quailed a little under Charley's vigorous gaze, but whetherany shyness at her male attire appeared upon her countenance could notbe seen by reason of the strips of ribbon which used to cover the facein mumming costumes, representing the barred visor of the mediaevalhelmet.
It fits pretty well, she said, looking down at the white overalls,except that the tunic, or whatever you call it, is long in the sleeve.The bottom of the overalls I can turn up inside. Now pay attention.
Eustacia then proceeded in her delivery, striking the sword against thestaff or lance at the minatory phrases, in the orthodox mummingmanner, and strutting up and down. Charley seasoned his admiration withcriticism of the gentlest kind, for the touch of Eustacia's hand yetremained with him.
And now for your excuse to the others, she said. Where do you meetbefore you go to Mrs. Yeobright's?
We thought of meeting here, miss, if you have nothing to say againstit. At eight o'clock, so as to get there by nine.
Yes. Well, you of course must not appear. I will march in about fiveminutes late, ready-dressed, and tell them that you can't come. I havedecided that the best plan will be for you to be sent somewhere by me,to make a real thing of the excuse. Our two heath-croppers are in thehabit of straying into the meads, and tomorrow evening you can go andsee if they are gone there. I'll manage the rest. Now you may leave me.
Yes, miss. But I think I'll have one minute more of what I am owed, ifyou don't mind.
Eustacia gave him her hand as before.
One minute, she said, and counted on till she reached seven or eightminutes. Hand and person she then withdrew to a distance of severalfeet, and recovered some of her old dignity. The contract completed, sheraised between them a barrier impenetrable as a wall.
There, 'tis all gone; and I didn't mean quite all, he said, with asigh.
You had good measure, said she, turning away.
Yes, miss. Well, 'tis over, and now I'll get home-along.