The Return of the Native

5--An Old Move Inadvertently Repeated

Charley's attentions to his former mistress were unbounded. The onlysolace to his own trouble lay in his attempts to relieve hers. Hourafter hour he considered her wants; he thought of her presence therewith a sort of gratitude, and, while uttering imprecations on the causeof her unhappiness, in some measure blessed the result. Perhaps shewould always remain there, he thought, and then he would be as happy ashe had been before. His dread was lest she should think fit to return toAlderworth, and in that dread his eyes, with all the inquisitiveness ofaffection, frequently sought her face when she was not observing him,as he would have watched the head of a stockdove to learn if itcontemplated flight. Having once really succoured her, and possiblypreserved her from the rashest of acts, he mentally assumed in additiona guardian's responsibility for her welfare.

For this reason he busily endeavoured to provide her with pleasantdistractions, bringing home curious objects which he found in the heath,such as white trumpet-shaped mosses, redheaded lichens, stone arrowheadsused by the old tribes on Egdon, and faceted crystals from the hollowsof flints. These he deposited on the premises in such positions that sheshould see them as if by accident.

A week passed, Eustacia never going out of the house. Then she walkedinto the enclosed plot and looked through her grandfather's spyglass, asshe had been in the habit of doing before her marriage. One day shesaw, at a place where the highroad crossed the distant valley, a heavilyladen wagon passing along. It was piled with household furniture. Shelooked again and again, and recognized it to be her own. In the eveningher grandfather came indoors with a rumour that Yeobright had removedthat day from Alderworth to the old house at Blooms-End.

On another occasion when reconnoitring thus she beheld two femalefigures walking in the vale. The day was fine and clear; and the personsnot being more than half a mile off she could see their every detailwith the telescope. The woman walking in front carried a white bundlein her arms, from one end of which hung a long appendage of drapery; andwhen the walkers turned, so that the sun fell more directly upon them,Eustacia could see that the object was a baby. She called Charley, andasked him if he knew who they were, though she well guessed.

”Mrs. Wildeve and the nurse-girl,” said Charley.

”The nurse is carrying the baby?” said Eustacia.

”No, 'tis Mrs. Wildeve carrying that,” he answered, ”and the nurse walksbehind carrying nothing.”

The lad was in good spirits that day, for the Fifth of November hadagain come round, and he was planning yet another scheme to divert herfrom her too absorbing thoughts. For two successive years hismistress had seemed to take pleasure in lighting a bonfire on the bankoverlooking the valley; but this year she had apparently quite forgottenthe day and the customary deed. He was careful not to remind her, andwent on with his secret preparations for a cheerful surprise, the morezealously that he had been absent last time and unable to assist. Atevery vacant minute he hastened to gather furze-stumps, thorn-treeroots, and other solid materials from the adjacent slopes, hiding themfrom cursory view.

The evening came, and Eustacia was still seemingly unconscious of theanniversary. She had gone indoors after her survey through the glass,and had not been visible since. As soon as it was quite dark Charleybegan to build the bonfire, choosing precisely that spot on the bankwhich Eustacia had chosen at previous times.

When all the surrounding bonfires had burst into existence Charleykindled his, and arranged its fuel so that it should not require tendingfor some time. He then went back to the house, and lingered round thedoor and windows till she should by some means or other learn of hisachievement and come out to witness it. But the shutters were closed,the door remained shut, and no heed whatever seemed to be taken of hisperformance. Not liking to call her he went back and replenished thefire, continuing to do this for more than half an hour. It was not tillhis stock of fuel had greatly diminished that he went to the back doorand sent in to beg that Mrs. Yeobright would open the window-shuttersand see the sight outside.

Eustacia, who had been sitting listlessly in the parlour, started upat the intelligence and flung open the shutters. Facing her on the bankblazed the fire, which at once sent a ruddy glare into the room whereshe was, and overpowered the candles.

”Well done, Charley!” said Captain Vye from the chimney-corner. ”But Ihope it is not my wood that he's burning.... Ah, it was this time lastyear that I met with that man Venn, bringing home Thomasin Yeobright--tobe sure it was! Well, who would have thought that girl's troubles wouldhave ended so well? What a snipe you were in that matter, Eustacia! Hasyour husband written to you yet?”

”No,” said Eustacia, looking vaguely through the window at the fire,which just then so much engaged her mind that she did not resent hergrandfather's blunt opinion. She could see Charley's form on the bank,shovelling and stirring the fire; and there flashed upon her imaginationsome other form which that fire might call up.

She left the room, put on her garden bonnet and cloak, and went out.Reaching the bank, she looked over with a wild curiosity and misgiving,when Charley said to her, with a pleased sense of himself, ”I made it o'purpose for you, ma'am.”

”Thank you,” she said hastily. ”But I wish you to put it out now.”

”It will soon burn down,” said Charley, rather disappointed. ”Is it nota pity to knock it out?”

”I don't know,” she musingly answered.

They stood in silence, broken only by the crackling of the flames,till Charley, perceiving that she did not want to talk to him, movedreluctantly away.

Eustacia remained within the bank looking at the fire, intending to goindoors, yet lingering still. Had she not by her situation been inclinedto hold in indifference all things honoured of the gods and of men shewould probably have come away. But her state was so hopeless that shecould play with it. To have lost is less disturbing than to wonder if wemay possibly have won and Eustacia could now, like other people at sucha stage, take a standing-point outside herself, observe herself as adisinterested spectator, and think what a sport for Heaven this womanEustacia was.

While she stood she heard a sound. It was the splash of a stone in thepond.

Had Eustacia received the stone full in the bosom her heart could nothave given a more decided thump. She had thought of the possibilityof such a signal in answer to that which had been unwittingly given byCharley; but she had not expected it yet. How prompt Wildeve was! Yethow could he think her capable of deliberately wishing to renew theirassignations now? An impulse to leave the spot, a desire to stay,struggled within her; and the desire held its own. More than that it didnot do, for she refrained even from ascending the bank and looking over.She remained motionless, not disturbing a muscle of her face or raisingher eyes; for were she to turn up her face the fire on the bank wouldshine upon it, and Wildeve might be looking down.

There was a second splash into the pond.

Why did he stay so long without advancing and looking over? Curiosityhad its way--she ascended one or two of the earth-steps in the bank andglanced out.

Wildeve was before her. He had come forward after throwing the lastpebble, and the fire now shone into each of their faces from the bankstretching breast-high between them.

”I did not light it!” cried Eustacia quickly. ”It was lit without myknowledge. Don't, don't come over to me!”

”Why have you been living here all these days without telling me? Youhave left your home. I fear I am something to blame in this?”

”I did not let in his mother; that's how it is!”

”You do not deserve what you have got, Eustacia; you are in greatmisery; I see it in your eyes, your mouth, and all over you. My poor,poor girl!” He stepped over the bank. ”You are beyond everythingunhappy!”

”No, no; not exactly--”

”It has been pushed too far--it is killing you--I do think it!”

Her usually quiet breathing had grown quicker with his words. ”I--I--”she began, and then burst into quivering sobs, shaken to the very heartby the unexpected voice of pity--a sentiment whose existence in relationto herself she had almost forgotten.

This outbreak of weeping took Eustacia herself so much by surprise thatshe could not leave off, and she turned aside from him in some shame,though turning hid nothing from him. She sobbed on desperately; thenthe outpour lessened, and she became quieter. Wildeve had resisted theimpulse to clasp her, and stood without speaking.

”Are you not ashamed of me, who used never to be a crying animal?” sheasked in a weak whisper as she wiped her eyes. ”Why didn't you go away?I wish you had not seen quite all that; it reveals too much by half.”

”You might have wished it, because it makes me as sad as you,” he saidwith emotion and deference. ”As for revealing--the word is impossiblebetween us two.”

”I did not send for you--don't forget it, Damon I am in pain, but I didnot send for you! As a wife, at least, I've been straight.”

”Never mind--I came. O, Eustacia, forgive me for the harm I have doneyou in these two past years! I see more and more that I have been yourruin.”

”Not you. This place I live in.”

”Ah, your generosity may naturally make you say that. But I am theculprit. I should either have done more or nothing at all.”

”In what way?”

”I ought never to have hunted you out, or, having done it, I ought tohave persisted in retaining you. But of course I have no right to talkof that now. I will only ask this--can I do anything for you? Is thereanything on the face of the earth that a man can do to make you happierthan you are at present? If there is, I will do it. You may commandme, Eustacia, to the limit of my influence; and don't forget that I amricher now. Surely something can be done to save you from this! Sucha rare plant in such a wild place it grieves me to see. Do you wantanything bought? Do you want to go anywhere? Do you want to escape theplace altogether? Only say it, and I'll do anything to put an end tothose tears, which but for me would never have been at all.”

”We are each married to another person,” she said faintly; ”andassistance from you would have an evil sound--after--after--”

”Well, there's no preventing slanderers from having their fill at anytime; but you need not be afraid. Whatever I may feel I promise you onmy word of honour never to speak to you about--or act upon--until yousay I may. I know my duty to Thomasin quite as well as I know my duty toyou as a woman unfairly treated. What shall I assist you in?”

”In getting away from here.”

”Where do you wish to go to?”

”I have a place in my mind. If you could help me as far as Budmouth Ican do all the rest. Steamers sail from there across the Channel, andso I can get to Paris, where I want to be. Yes,” she pleaded earnestly,”help me to get to Budmouth harbour without my grandfather's or myhusband's knowledge, and I can do all the rest.”

”Will it be safe to leave you there alone?”

”Yes, yes. I know Budmouth well.”

”Shall I go with you? I am rich now.”

She was silent.

”Say yes, sweet!”

She was silent still.

”Well, let me know when you wish to go. We shall be at our presenthouse till December; after that we remove to Casterbridge. Command me inanything till that time.”

”I will think of this,” she said hurriedly. ”Whether I can honestly makeuse of you as a friend, or must close with you as a lover--that is whatI must ask myself. If I wish to go and decide to accept your company Iwill signal to you some evening at eight o'clock punctually, and thiswill mean that you are to be ready with a horse and trap at twelveo'clock the same night to drive me to Budmouth harbour in time for themorning boat.”

”I will look out every night at eight, and no signal shall escape me.”

”Now please go away. If I decide on this escape I can only meet youonce more unless--I cannot go without you. Go--I cannot bear it longer.Go--go!”

Wildeve slowly went up the steps and descended into the darkness on theother side; and as he walked he glanced back, till the bank blotted outher form from his further view.