8--A New Force Disturbs the Current

Wildeve stared. Venn looked coolly towards Wildeve, and, without a wordbeing spoken, he deliberately sat himself down where Christian had beenseated, thrust his hand into his pocket, drew out a sovereign, and laidit on the stone.

”You have been watching us from behind that bush?” said Wildeve.

The reddleman nodded. ”Down with your stake,” he said. ”Or haven't youpluck enough to go on?”

Now, gambling is a species of amusement which is much more easily begunwith full pockets than left off with the same; and though Wildeve ina cooler temper might have prudently declined this invitation, theexcitement of his recent success carried him completely away. He placedone of the guineas on a slab beside the reddleman's sovereign. ”Mine isa guinea,” he said.

”A guinea that's not your own,” said Venn sarcastically.

”It is my own,” answered Wildeve haughtily. ”It is my wife's, and whatis hers is mine.”

”Very well; let's make a beginning.” He shook the box, and threw eight,ten, and nine; the three casts amounted to twenty-seven.

This encouraged Wildeve. He took the box; and his three casts amountedto forty-five.

Down went another of the reddleman's sovereigns against his first onewhich Wildeve laid. This time Wildeve threw fifty-one points, but nopair. The reddleman looked grim, threw a raffle of aces, and pocketedthe stakes.

”Here you are again,” said Wildeve contemptuously. ”Double the stakes.”He laid two of Thomasin's guineas, and the reddleman his two pounds.Venn won again. New stakes were laid on the stone, and the gamblersproceeded as before.

Wildeve was a nervous and excitable man, and the game was beginningto tell upon his temper. He writhed, fumed, shifted his seat, and thebeating of his heart was almost audible. Venn sat with lips impassivelyclosed and eyes reduced to a pair of unimportant twinkles; he scarcelyappeared to breathe. He might have been an Arab, or an automaton hewould have been like a red sandstone statue but for the motion of hisarm with the dice-box.

The game fluctuated, now in favour of one, now in favour of the other,without any great advantage on the side of either. Nearly twenty minuteswere passed thus. The light of the candle had by this time attractedheath-flies, moths, and other winged creatures of night, which floatedround the lantern, flew into the flame, or beat about the faces of thetwo players.

But neither of the men paid much attention to these things, their eyesbeing concentrated upon the little flat stone, which to them was anarena vast and important as a battlefield. By this time a change hadcome over the game; the reddleman won continually. At length sixtyguineas--Thomasin's fifty, and ten of Clym's--had passed into his hands.Wildeve was reckless, frantic, exasperated.

”'Won back his coat,'” said Venn slily.

Another throw, and the money went the same way.

”'Won back his hat,'” continued Venn.

”Oh, oh!” said Wildeve.

”'Won back his watch, won back his money, and went out of the door arich man,'” added Venn sentence by sentence, as stake after stake passedover to him.

”Five more!” shouted Wildeve, dashing down the money. ”And three castsbe hanged--one shall decide.”

The red automaton opposite lapsed into silence, nodded, and followedhis example. Wildeve rattled the box, and threw a pair of sixes and fivepoints. He clapped his hands; ”I have done it this time--hurrah!”

”There are two playing, and only one has thrown,” said the reddleman,quietly bringing down the box. The eyes of each were then so intentlyconverged upon the stone that one could fancy their beams were visible,like rays in a fog.

Venn lifted the box, and behold a triplet of sixes was disclosed.

Wildeve was full of fury. While the reddleman was grasping the stakesWildeve seized the dice and hurled them, box and all, into the darkness,uttering a fearful imprecation. Then he arose and began stamping up anddown like a madman.

”It is all over, then?” said Venn.

”No, no!” cried Wildeve. ”I mean to have another chance yet. I must!”

”But, my good man, what have you done with the dice?”

”I threw them away--it was a momentary irritation. What a fool I am!Here--come and help me to look for them--we must find them again.”

Wildeve snatched up the lantern and began anxiously prowling among thefurze and fern.

”You are not likely to find them there,” said Venn, following. ”What didyou do such a crazy thing as that for? Here's the box. The dice can't befar off.”

Wildeve turned the light eagerly upon the spot where Venn had foundthe box, and mauled the herbage right and left. In the course of a fewminutes one of the dice was found. They searched on for some time, butno other was to be seen.

”Never mind,” said Wildeve; ”let's play with one.”

”Agreed,” said Venn.

Down they sat again, and recommenced with single guinea stakes; and theplay went on smartly. But Fortune had unmistakably fallen in lovewith the reddleman tonight. He won steadily, till he was the owner offourteen more of the gold pieces. Seventy-nine of the hundred guineaswere his, Wildeve possessing only twenty-one. The aspect of the twoopponents was now singular. Apart from motions, a complete dioramaof the fluctuations of the game went on in their eyes. A diminutivecandle-flame was mirrored in each pupil, and it would have been possibleto distinguish therein between the moods of hope and the moods ofabandonment, even as regards the reddleman, though his facial musclesbetrayed nothing at all. Wildeve played on with the recklessness ofdespair.

”What's that?” he suddenly exclaimed, hearing a rustle; and they bothlooked up.

They were surrounded by dusky forms between four and five feet high,standing a few paces beyond the rays of the lantern. A moment'sinspection revealed that the encircling figures were heath-croppers,their heads being all towards the players, at whom they gazed intently.

”Hoosh!” said Wildeve, and the whole forty or fifty animals at onceturned and galloped away. Play was again resumed.

Ten minutes passed away. Then a large death's head moth advanced fromthe obscure outer air, wheeled twice round the lantern, flew straightat the candle, and extinguished it by the force of the blow. Wildeve hadjust thrown, but had not lifted the box to see what he had cast; and nowit was impossible.

”What the infernal!” he shrieked. ”Now, what shall we do? Perhaps I havethrown six--have you any matches?”

”None,” said Venn.

”Christian had some--I wonder where he is. Christian!”

But there was no reply to Wildeve's shout, save a mournful whiningfrom the herons which were nesting lower down the vale. Both men lookedblankly round without rising. As their eyes grew accustomed to thedarkness they perceived faint greenish points of light among thegrass and fern. These lights dotted the hillside like stars of a lowmagnitude.

”Ah--glowworms,” said Wildeve. ”Wait a minute. We can continue thegame.”

Venn sat still, and his companion went hither and thither till he hadgathered thirteen glowworms--as many as he could find in a space of fouror five minutes--upon a fox-glove leaf which he pulled for the purpose.The reddleman vented a low humorous laugh when he saw his adversaryreturn with these. ”Determined to go on, then?” he said drily.

”I always am!” said Wildeve angrily. And shaking the glowworms fromthe leaf he ranged them with a trembling hand in a circle on the stone,leaving a space in the middle for the descent of the dice-box, overwhich the thirteen tiny lamps threw a pale phosphoric shine. The gamewas again renewed. It happened to be that season of the year at whichglowworms put forth their greatest brilliancy, and the light theyyielded was more than ample for the purpose, since it is possible onsuch nights to read the handwriting of a letter by the light of two orthree.

The incongruity between the men's deeds and their environment was great.Amid the soft juicy vegetation of the hollow in which they sat, themotionless and the uninhabited solitude, intruded the chink of guineas,the rattle of dice, the exclamations of the reckless players.

Wildeve had lifted the box as soon as the lights were obtained, and thesolitary die proclaimed that the game was still against him.

”I won't play any more--you've been tampering with the dice,” heshouted.

”How--when they were your own?” said the reddleman.

”We'll change the game: the lowest point shall win the stake--it may cutoff my ill luck. Do you refuse?”

”No--go on,” said Venn.

”O, there they are again--damn them!” cried Wildeve, looking up. Theheath-croppers had returned noiselessly, and were looking on with erectheads just as before, their timid eyes fixed upon the scene, as if theywere wondering what mankind and candlelight could have to do in thesehaunts at this untoward hour.

”What a plague those creatures are--staring at me so!” he said, andflung a stone, which scattered them; when the game was continued asbefore.

Wildeve had now ten guineas left; and each laid five. Wildeve threwthree points; Venn two, and raked in the coins. The other seized thedie, and clenched his teeth upon it in sheer rage, as if he would biteit in pieces. ”Never give in--here are my last five!” he cried, throwingthem down. ”Hang the glowworms--they are going out. Why don't you burn,you little fools? Stir them up with a thorn.”

He probed the glowworms with a bit of stick, and rolled them over, tillthe bright side of their tails was upwards.

”There's light enough. Throw on,” said Venn.

Wildeve brought down the box within the shining circle and lookedeagerly. He had thrown ace. ”Well done!--I said it would turn, and ithas turned.” Venn said nothing; but his hand shook slightly.

He threw ace also.

”O!” said Wildeve. ”Curse me!”

The die smacked the stone a second time. It was ace again. Venn lookedgloomy, threw--the die was seen to be lying in two pieces, the cleftsides uppermost.

”I've thrown nothing at all,” he said.

”Serves me right--I split the die with my teeth. Here--take your money.Blank is less than one.”

”I don't wish it.”

”Take it, I say--you've won it!” And Wildeve threw the stakes againstthe reddleman's chest. Venn gathered them up, arose, and withdrew fromthe hollow, Wildeve sitting stupefied.

When he had come to himself he also arose, and, with the extinguishedlantern in his hand, went towards the highroad. On reaching it he stoodstill. The silence of night pervaded the whole heath except in onedirection and that was towards Mistover. There he could hear the noiseof light wheels, and presently saw two carriagelamps descending thehill. Wildeve screened himself under a bush and waited.

The vehicle came on and passed before him. It was a hired carriage,and behind the coachman were two persons whom he knew well. There satEustacia and Yeobright, the arm of the latter being round her waist.They turned the sharp corner at the bottom towards the temporary homewhich Clym had hired and furnished, about five miles to the eastward.

Wildeve forgot the loss of the money at the sight of his lost love,whose preciousness in his eyes was increasing in geometrical progressionwith each new incident that reminded him of their hopeless division.Brimming with the subtilized misery that he was capable of feeling, hefollowed the opposite way towards the inn.

About the same moment that Wildeve stepped into the highway Venn alsohad reached it at a point a hundred yards further on and he, hearingthe same wheels, likewise waited till the carriage should come up. Whenhe saw who sat therein he seemed to be disappointed. Reflecting a minuteor two, during which interval the carriage rolled on, he crossed theroad, and took a short cut through the furze and heath to a point wherethe turnpike road bent round in ascending a hill. He was now again infront of the carriage, which presently came up at a walking pace. Vennstepped forward and showed himself.

Eustacia started when the lamp shone upon him, and Clym's arm wasinvoluntarily withdrawn from her waist. He said, ”What, Diggory? You arehaving a lonely walk.”

”Yes--I beg your pardon for stopping you,” said Venn. ”But I amwaiting about for Mrs. Wildeve: I have something to give her from Mrs.Yeobright. Can you tell me if she's gone home from the party yet?”

”No. But she will be leaving soon. You may possibly meet her at thecorner.”

Venn made a farewell obeisance, and walked back to his former position,where the byroad from Mistover joined the highway. Here he remainedfixed for nearly half an hour, and then another pair of lights came downthe hill. It was the old-fashioned wheeled nondescript belonging to thecaptain, and Thomasin sat in it alone, driven by Charley.

The reddleman came up as they slowly turned the corner. ”I beg pardonfor stopping you, Mrs. Wildeve,” he said. ”But I have something togive you privately from Mrs. Yeobright.” He handed a small parcel; itconsisted of the hundred guineas he had just won, roughly twisted up ina piece of paper.

Thomasin recovered from her surprise, and took the packet. ”That's all,ma'am--I wish you good night,” he said, and vanished from her view.

Thus Venn, in his anxiety to rectify matters, had placed in Thomasin'shands not only the fifty guineas which rightly belonged to her, but alsothe fifty intended for her cousin Clym. His mistake had been based uponWildeve's words at the opening of the game, when he indignantly deniedthat the guinea was not his own. It had not been comprehended by thereddleman that at halfway through the performance the game was continuedwith the money of another person and it was an error which afterwardshelped to cause more misfortune than treble the loss in money valuecould have done.

The night was now somewhat advanced; and Venn plunged deeper into theheath, till he came to a ravine where his van was standing--a spotnot more than two hundred yards from the site of the gambling bout. Heentered this movable home of his, lit his lantern, and, before closinghis door for the night, stood reflecting on the circumstances of thepreceding hours. While he stood the dawn grew visible in the northeastquarter of the heavens, which, the clouds having cleared off, was brightwith a soft sheen at this midsummer time, though it was only between oneand two o'clock. Venn, thoroughly weary, then shut his door and flunghimself down to sleep.





BOOK FOUR -- THE CLOSED DOOR