6--The Two Stand Face to Face
The room had been arranged with a view to the dancing, the large oaktable having been moved back till it stood as a breastwork to thefireplace. At each end, behind, and in the chimney-corner were groupedthe guests, many of them being warm-faced and panting, among whomEustacia cursorily recognized some well-to-do persons from beyond theheath. Thomasin, as she had expected, was not visible, and Eustaciarecollected that a light had shone from an upper window when they wereoutside--the window, probably, of Thomasin's room. A nose, chin, hands,knees, and toes projected from the seat within the chimney opening,which members she found to unite in the person of Grandfer Cantle, Mrs.Yeobright's occasional assistant in the garden, and therefore one of theinvited. The smoke went up from an Etna of peat in front of him, playedround the notches of the chimney-crook, struck against the salt-box, andgot lost among the flitches.
Another part of the room soon riveted her gaze. At the other side of thechimney stood the settle, which is the necessary supplement to a fire soopen that nothing less than a strong breeze will carry up the smoke. Itis, to the hearths of old-fashioned cavernous fireplaces, what the eastbelt of trees is to the exposed country estate, or the north wall tothe garden. Outside the settle candles gutter, locks of hair wave, youngwomen shiver, and old men sneeze. Inside is Paradise. Not a symptom of adraught disturbs the air; the sitters' backs are as warm as their faces,and songs and old tales are drawn from the occupants by the comfortableheat, like fruit from melon plants in a frame.
It was, however, not with those who sat in the settle that Eustacia wasconcerned. A face showed itself with marked distinctness against thedark-tanned wood of the upper part. The owner, who was leaning againstthe settle's outer end, was Clement Yeobright, or Clym, as he was calledhere; she knew it could be nobody else. The spectacle constituted anarea of two feet in Rembrandt's intensest manner. A strange power in thelounger's appearance lay in the fact that, though his whole figure wasvisible, the observer's eye was only aware of his face.
To one of middle age the countenance was that of a young man, though ayouth might hardly have seen any necessity for the term of immaturity.But it was really one of those faces which convey less the idea ofso many years as its age than of so much experience as its store. Thenumber of their years may have adequately summed up Jared, Mahalaleel,and the rest of the antediluvians, but the age of a modern man is to bemeasured by the intensity of his history.
The face was well shaped, even excellently. But the mind withinwas beginning to use it as a mere waste tablet whereon to trace itsidiosyncrasies as they developed themselves. The beauty here visiblewould in no long time be ruthlessly over-run by its parasite, thought,which might just as well have fed upon a plainer exterior where therewas nothing it could harm. Had Heaven preserved Yeobright from a wearinghabit of meditation, people would have said, A handsome man. Hadhis brain unfolded under sharper contours they would have said, Athoughtful man. But an inner strenuousness was preying upon an outersymmetry, and they rated his look as singular.
Hence people who began by beholding him ended by perusing him.His countenance was overlaid with legible meanings. Without beingthought-worn he yet had certain marks derived from a perception of hissurroundings, such as are not unfrequently found on men at the end ofthe four or five years of endeavour which follow the close of placidpupilage. He already showed that thought is a disease of flesh, andindirectly bore evidence that ideal physical beauty is incompatiblewith emotional development and a full recognition of the coil of things.Mental luminousness must be fed with the oil of life, even though thereis already a physical need for it; and the pitiful sight of two demandson one supply was just showing itself here.
When standing before certain men the philosopher regrets that thinkersare but perishable tissue, the artist that perishable tissue has tothink. Thus to deplore, each from his point of view, the mutuallydestructive interdependence of spirit and flesh would have beeninstinctive with these in critically observing Yeobright.
As for his look, it was a natural cheerfulness striving againstdepression from without, and not quite succeeding. The look suggestedisolation, but it revealed something more. As is usual with brightnatures, the deity that lies ignominiously chained within an ephemeralhuman carcase shone out of him like a ray.
The effect upon Eustacia was palpable. The extraordinary pitch ofexcitement that she had reached beforehand would, indeed, have causedher to be influenced by the most commonplace man. She was troubled atYeobright's presence.
The remainder of the play ended--the Saracen's head was cut off, andSaint George stood as victor. Nobody commented, any more than they wouldhave commented on the fact of mushrooms coming in autumn or snowdropsin spring. They took the piece as phlegmatically as did the actorsthemselves. It was a phase of cheerfulness which was, as a matter ofcourse, to be passed through every Christmas; and there was no more tobe said.
They sang the plaintive chant which follows the play, during which allthe dead men rise to their feet in a silent and awful manner, like theghosts of Napoleon's soldiers in the Midnight Review. Afterwards thedoor opened, and Fairway appeared on the threshold, accompanied byChristian and another. They had been waiting outside for the conclusionof the play, as the players had waited for the conclusion of the dance.
Come in, come in, said Mrs. Yeobright; and Clym went forward towelcome them. How is it you are so late? Grandfer Cantle has been hereever so long, and we thought you'd have come with him, as you live sonear one another.
Well, I should have come earlier, Mr. Fairway said and paused tolook along the beam of the ceiling for a nail to hang his hat on but,finding his accustomed one to be occupied by the mistletoe, and allthe nails in the walls to be burdened with bunches of holly, he atlast relieved himself of the hat by ticklishly balancing it between thecandle-box and the head of the clock-case. I should have come earlier,ma'am, he resumed, with a more composed air, but I know what partiesbe, and how there's none too much room in folks' houses at such times,so I thought I wouldn't come till you'd got settled a bit.
And I thought so too, Mrs. Yeobright, said Christian earnestly, butFather there was so eager that he had no manners at all, and left homealmost afore 'twas dark. I told him 'twas barely decent in a' old man tocome so oversoon but words be wind.
Klk! I wasn't going to bide waiting about, till half the game was over!I'm as light as a kite when anything's going on! crowed Grandfer Cantlefrom the chimneyseat.
Fairway had meanwhile concluded a critical gaze at Yeobright. Now,you may not believe it, he said to the rest of the room, but I shouldnever have knowed this gentleman if I had met him anywhere off his ownhe'th--he's altered so much.
You too have altered, and for the better, I think Timothy, saidYeobright, surveying the firm figure of Fairway.
Master Yeobright, look me over too. I have altered for the better,haven't I, hey? said Grandfer Cantle, rising and placing himselfsomething above half a foot from Clym's eye, to induce the mostsearching criticism.
To be sure we will, said Fairway, taking the candle and moving it overthe surface of the Grandfer's countenance, the subject of his scrutinyirradiating himself with light and pleasant smiles, and giving himselfjerks of juvenility.
You haven't changed much, said Yeobright.
If there's any difference, Grandfer is younger, appended Fairwaydecisively.
And yet not my own doing, and I feel no pride in it, said the pleasedancient. But I can't be cured of my vagaries; them I plead guilty to.Yes, Master Cantle always was that, as we know. But I am nothing by theside of you, Mister Clym.
Nor any o' us, said Humphrey, in a low rich tone of admiration, notintended to reach anybody's ears.
Really, there would have been nobody here who could have stood asdecent second to him, or even third, if I hadn't been a soldier in theBang-up Locals (as we was called for our smartness), said GrandferCantle. And even as 'tis we all look a little scammish beside him. Butin the year four 'twas said there wasn't a finer figure in the wholeSouth Wessex than I, as I looked when dashing past the shop-winders withthe rest of our company on the day we ran out o' Budmouth because it wasthoughted that Boney had landed round the point. There was I, straightas a young poplar, wi' my firelock, and my bagnet, and my spatterdashes,and my stock sawing my jaws off, and my accoutrements sheening likethe seven stars! Yes, neighbours, I was a pretty sight in my soldieringdays. You ought to have seen me in four!
'Tis his mother's side where Master Clym's figure comes from, blessye, said Timothy. I know'd her brothers well. Longer coffins werenever made in the whole country of South Wessex, and 'tis said that poorGeorge's knees were crumpled up a little e'en as 'twas.
Coffins, where? inquired Christian, drawing nearer. Have the ghost ofone appeared to anybody, Master Fairway?
No, no. Don't let your mind so mislead your ears, Christian; and be aman, said Timothy reproachfully.
I will. said Christian. But now I think o't my shadder last nightseemed just the shape of a coffin. What is it a sign of when yourshade's like a coffin, neighbours? It can't be nothing to be afeared of,I suppose?
Afeared, no! said the Grandfer. Faith, I was never afeard of nothingexcept Boney, or I shouldn't ha' been the soldier I was. Yes, 'tis athousand pities you didn't see me in four!
By this time the mummers were preparing to leave; but Mrs. Yeobrightstopped them by asking them to sit down and have a little supper. Tothis invitation Father Christmas, in the name of them all, readilyagreed.
Eustacia was happy in the opportunity of staying a little longer.The cold and frosty night without was doubly frigid to her. But thelingering was not without its difficulties. Mrs. Yeobright, for wantof room in the larger apartment, placed a bench for the mummers halfwaythrough the pantry door, which opened from the sitting-room. Here theyseated themselves in a row, the door being left open--thus they werestill virtually in the same apartment. Mrs. Yeobright now murmured a fewwords to her son, who crossed the room to the pantry door, striking hishead against the mistletoe as he passed, and brought the mummers beefand bread, cake pastry, mead, and elder-wine, the waiting being done byhim and his mother, that the little maid-servant might sit as guest. Themummers doffed their helmets, and began to eat and drink.
But you will surely have some? said Clym to the Turkish Knight, as hestood before that warrior, tray in hand. She had refused, and still satcovered, only the sparkle of her eyes being visible between the ribbonswhich covered her face.
None, thank you, replied Eustacia.
He's quite a youngster, said the Saracen apologetically, and youmust excuse him. He's not one of the old set, but have jined us becauset'other couldn't come.
But he will take something? persisted Yeobright. Try a glass of meador elder-wine.
Yes, you had better try that, said the Saracen. It will keep the coldout going home-along.
Though Eustacia could not eat without uncovering her face she coulddrink easily enough beneath her disguise. The elder-wine was accordinglyaccepted, and the glass vanished inside the ribbons.
At moments during this performance Eustacia was half in doubt aboutthe security of her position yet it had a fearful joy. A series ofattentions paid to her, and yet not to her but to some imaginary person,by the first man she had ever been inclined to adore, complicatedher emotions indescribably. She had loved him partly because he wasexceptional in this scene, partly because she had determined to lovehim, chiefly because she was in desperate need of loving somebodyafter wearying of Wildeve. Believing that she must love him in spite ofherself, she had been influenced after the fashion of the second LordLyttleton and other persons, who have dreamed that they were to die on acertain day, and by stress of a morbid imagination have actually broughtabout that event. Once let a maiden admit the possibility of her beingstricken with love for someone at a certain hour and place, and thething is as good as done.
Did anything at this moment suggest to Yeobright the sex of the creaturewhom that fantastic guise inclosed, how extended was her scope both infeeling and in making others feel, and how far her compass transcendedthat of her companions in the band? When the disguised Queen of Loveappeared before Aeneas a preternatural perfume accompanied her presenceand betrayed her quality. If such a mysterious emanation ever wasprojected by the emotions of an earthly woman upon their object, it musthave signified Eustacia's presence to Yeobright now. He looked at herwistfully, then seemed to fall into a reverie, as if he were forgettingwhat he observed. The momentary situation ended, he passed on, andEustacia sipped her wine without knowing what she drank. The man forwhom she had pre-determined to nourish a passion went into the smallroom, and across it to the further extremity.
The mummers, as has been stated, were seated on a bench, one end ofwhich extended into the small apartment, or pantry, for want of spacein the outer room. Eustacia, partly from shyness, had chosen the midmostseat, which thus commanded a view of the interior of the pantry as wellas the room containing the guests. When Clym passed down the pantry hereyes followed him in the gloom which prevailed there. At the remoteend was a door which, just as he was about to open it for himself, wasopened by somebody within; and light streamed forth.
The person was Thomasin, with a candle, looking anxious, pale, andinteresting. Yeobright appeared glad to see her, and pressed her hand.That's right, Tamsie, he said heartily, as though recalled to himselfby the sight of her, you have decided to come down. I am glad of it.
Hush--no, no, she said quickly. I only came to speak to you.
But why not join us?
I cannot. At least I would rather not. I am not well enough, and weshall have plenty of time together now you are going to be home a goodlong holiday.
It isn't nearly so pleasant without you. Are you really ill?
Just a little, my old cousin--here, she said, playfully sweeping herhand across her heart.
Ah, Mother should have asked somebody else to be present tonight,perhaps?
O no, indeed. I merely stepped down, Clym, to ask you-- Here hefollowed her through the doorway into the private room beyond, and,the door closing, Eustacia and the mummer who sat next to her, the onlyother witness of the performance, saw and heard no more.
The heat flew to Eustacia's head and cheeks. She instantly guessed thatClym, having been home only these two or three days, had not as yetbeen made acquainted with Thomasin's painful situation with regard toWildeve; and seeing her living there just as she had been living beforehe left home, he naturally suspected nothing. Eustacia felt a wildjealousy of Thomasin on the instant. Though Thomasin might possibly havetender sentiments towards another man as yet, how long could they beexpected to last when she was shut up here with this interesting andtravelled cousin of hers? There was no knowing what affection might notsoon break out between the two, so constantly in each other's society,and not a distracting object near. Clym's boyish love for her might havelanguished, but it might easily be revived again.
Eustacia was nettled by her own contrivances. What a sheer waste ofherself to be dressed thus while another was shining to advantage! Hadshe known the full effect of the encounter she would have moved heavenand earth to get here in a natural manner. The power of her face alllost, the charm of her emotions all disguised, the fascinations of hercoquetry denied existence, nothing but a voice left to her; she had asense of the doom of Echo. Nobody here respects me, she said. She hadoverlooked the fact that, in coming as a boy among other boys, shewould be treated as a boy. The slight, though of her own causing, andself-explanatory, she was unable to dismiss as unwittingly shown, sosensitive had the situation made her.
Women have done much for themselves in histrionic dress. To look farbelow those who, like a certain fair personator of Polly Peachum earlyin the last century, and another of Lydia Languish early in this, (1)have won not only love but ducal coronets into the bargain, whole shoalsof them have reached to the initial satisfaction of getting love almostwhence they would. But the Turkish Knight was denied even the chanceof achieving this by the fluttering ribbons which she dared not brushaside.
(1) Written in 1877.
Yeobright returned to the room without his cousin. When within two orthree feet of Eustacia he stopped, as if again arrested by a thought.He was gazing at her. She looked another way, disconcerted, and wonderedhow long this purgatory was to last. After lingering a few seconds hepassed on again.
To court their own discomfiture by love is a common instinct withcertain perfervid women. Conflicting sensations of love, fear, and shamereduced Eustacia to a state of the utmost uneasiness. To escape was hergreat and immediate desire. The other mummers appeared to be in nohurry to leave; and murmuring to the lad who sat next to her that shepreferred waiting for them outside the house, she moved to the door asimperceptibly as possible, opened it, and slipped out.
The calm, lone scene reassured her. She went forward to the palings andleant over them, looking at the moon. She had stood thus but a littletime when the door again opened. Expecting to see the remainder of theband Eustacia turned; but no--Clym Yeobright came out as softly as shehad done, and closed the door behind him.
He advanced and stood beside her. I have an odd opinion, he said, andshould like to ask you a question. Are you a woman--or am I wrong?
I am a woman.
His eyes lingered on her with great interest. Do girls often play asmummers now? They never used to.
They don't now.
Why did you?
To get excitement and shake off depression, she said in low tones.
What depressed you?
Life.
That's a cause of depression a good many have to put up with.
Yes.
A long silence. And do you find excitement? asked Clym at last.
At this moment, perhaps.
Then you are vexed at being discovered?
Yes; though I thought I might be.
I would gladly have asked you to our party had I known you wished tocome. Have I ever been acquainted with you in my youth?
Never.
Won't you come in again, and stay as long as you like?
No. I wish not to be further recognized.
Well, you are safe with me. After remaining in thought a minute headded gently, I will not intrude upon you longer. It is a strange wayof meeting, and I will not ask why I find a cultivated woman playingsuch a part as this.
She did not volunteer the reason which he seemed to hope for, and hewished her good night, going thence round to the back of the house,where he walked up and down by himself for some time before re-entering.
Eustacia, warmed with an inner fire, could not wait for her companionsafter this. She flung back the ribbons from her face, opened thegate, and at once struck into the heath. She did not hasten along. Hergrandfather was in bed at this hour, for she so frequently walked uponthe hills on moonlight nights that he took no notice of her comings andgoings, and, enjoying himself in his own way, left her to do likewise.A more important subject than that of getting indoors now engrossed her.Yeobright, if he had the least curiosity, would infallibly discover hername. What then? She first felt a sort of exultation at the way inwhich the adventure had terminated, even though at moments betweenher exultations she was abashed and blushful. Then this considerationrecurred to chill her: What was the use of her exploit? She was atpresent a total stranger to the Yeobright family. The unreasonablenimbus of romance with which she had encircled that man might be hermisery. How could she allow herself to become so infatuated with astranger? And to fill the cup of her sorrow there would be Thomasin,living day after day in inflammable proximity to him; for she had justlearnt that, contrary to her first belief, he was going to stay at homesome considerable time.
She reached the wicket at Mistover Knap, but before opening it sheturned and faced the heath once more. The form of Rainbarrow stood abovethe hills, and the moon stood above Rainbarrow. The air was charged withsilence and frost. The scene reminded Eustacia of a circumstance whichtill that moment she had totally forgotten. She had promised to meetWildeve by the Barrow this very night at eight, to give a final answerto his pleading for an elopement.
She herself had fixed the evening and the hour. He had probably come tothe spot, waited there in the cold, and been greatly disappointed.
Well, so much the better--it did not hurt him, she said serenely.Wildeve had at present the rayless outline of the sun through smokedglass, and she could say such things as that with the greatest facility.
She remained deeply pondering; and Thomasin's winning manner towards hercousin arose again upon Eustacia's mind.
O that she had been married to Damon before this! she said. Andshe would if it hadn't been for me! If I had only known--if I had onlyknown!
Eustacia once more lifted her deep stormy eyes to the moonlight, and,sighing that tragic sigh of hers which was so much like a shudder,entered the shadow of the roof. She threw off her trappings in theouthouse, rolled them up, and went indoors to her chamber.