XXXVIII. A DELICATE SITUATION
'I am ready to go,' said Anne, as soon as he arrived.
He paused as if taken aback by her readiness, and replied with muchuncertainty, 'Would it--wouldn't it be better to put it off till there isless sun?'
The very slightest symptom of surprise arose in her as she rejoined, 'Butthe weather may change; or had we better not go at all?'
'O no!--it was only a thought. We will start at once.'
And along the vale they went, John keeping himself about a yard from herright hand. When the third field had been crossed they came upon half-a-dozen little boys at play.
'Why don't he clasp her to his side, like a man?' said the biggest andrudest boy.
'Why don't he clasp her to his side, like a man?' echoed all the rudesmaller boys in a chorus.
The trumpet-major turned, and, after some running, succeeded in smackingtwo of them with his switch, returning to Anne breathless. 'I am ashamedthey should have insulted you so,' he said, blushing for her.
'They said no harm, poor boys,' she replied reproachfully.
Poor John was dumb with perception. The gentle hint upon which he wouldhave eagerly spoken only one short day ago was now like fire to hiswound.
They presently came to some stepping-stones across a brook. John crossedfirst without turning his head, and Anne, just lifting the skirt of herdress, crossed behind him. When they had reached the other side avillage girl and a young shepherd approached the brink to cross. Annestopped and watched them. The shepherd took a hand of the young girl ineach of his own, and walked backward over the stones, facing her, andkeeping her upright by his grasp, both of them laughing as they went.
'What are you staying for, Miss Garland?' asked John.
'I was only thinking how happy they are,' she said quietly; andwithdrawing her eyes from the tender pair, she turned and followed him,not knowing that the seeming sound of a passing bumble-bee was asuppressed groan from John.
When they reached the hill they found forty navvies at work removing thedark sod so as to lay bare the chalk beneath. The equestrian figure thattheir shovels were forming was scarcely intelligible to John and Anne nowthey were close, and after pacing from the horse's head down his breastto his hoof, back by way of the king's bridle-arm, past the bridge of hisnose, and into his cocked-hat, Anne said that she had had enough of it,and stepped out of the chalk clearing upon the grass. The trumpet-majorhad remained all the time in a melancholy attitude within the rowel ofhis Majesty's right spur.
'My shoes are caked with chalk,' she said as they walked downwards again;and she drew back her dress to look at them. 'How can I get some of itcleared off?'
'If you was to wipe them in the long grass there,' said John, pointing toa spot where the blades were rank and dense, 'some of it would come off.'Having said this, he walked on with religious firmness.
Anne raked her little feet on the right side, on the left side, over thetoe, and behind the heel; but the tenacious chalk held its own. Pantingwith her exertion, she gave it up, and at length overtook him.
'I hope it is right now?' he said, looking gingerly over his shoulder.
'No, indeed!' said she. 'I wanted some assistance--some one to steadyme. It is so hard to stand on one foot and wipe the other withoutsupport. I was in danger of toppling over, and so gave it up.'
'Merciful stars, what an opportunity!' thought the poor fellow while shewaited for him to offer help. But his lips remained closed, and she wenton with a pouting smile--
'You seem in such a hurry! Why are you in such a hurry? After all thefine things you have said about--about caring so much for me, and allthat, you won't stop for anything!'
It was too much for John. 'Upon my heart and life, my dea--' he began.Here Bob's letter crackled warningly in his waistcoat pocket as he laidhis hand asseveratingly upon his breast, and he became suddenly scaled upto dumbness and gloom as before.
When they reached home Anne sank upon a stool outside the door, fatiguedwith her excursion. Her first act was to try to pull off her shoe--itwas a difficult matter; but John stood beating with his switch the leavesof the creeper on the wall.
'Mother--David--Molly, or somebody--do come and help me pull off thesedirty shoes!' she cried aloud at last. 'Nobody helps me in anything!'
'I am very sorry,' said John, coming towards her with incredible slownessand an air of unutterable depression.
'O, I can do without _you_. David is best,' she returned, as the old manapproached and removed the obnoxious shoes in a trice.
Anne was amazed at this sudden change from devotion to crassindifference. On entering her room she flew to the glass, almostexpecting to learn that some extraordinary change had come over herpretty countenance, rendering her intolerable for evermore. But it was,if anything, fresher than usual, on account of the exercise. 'Well!' shesaid retrospectively. For the first time since their acqaintance she hadthis week encouraged him; and for the first time he had shown thatencouragement was useless. 'But perhaps he does not clearly understand,'she added serenely.
When he next came it was, to her surprise, to bring her newspapers, nowfor some time discontinued. As soon as she saw them she said, 'I do notcare for newspapers.'
'The shipping news is very full and long to-day, though the print israther small.'
'I take no further interest in the shipping news,' she replied with colddignity.
She was sitting by the window, inside the table, and hence when, in spiteof her negations, he deliberately unfolded the paper and began to readabout the Royal Navy she could hardly rise and go away. With a stoicalmien he read on to the end of the report, bringing out the name of Bob'sship with tremendous force.
'No,' she said at last, 'I'll hear no more! Let me read to you.'
The trumpet-major sat down. Anne turned to the military news, deliveringevery detail with much apparent enthusiasm. 'That's the subject _I_like!' she said fervently.
'But--but Bob is in the navy now, and will most likely rise to be anofficer. And then--'
'What is there like the army?' she interrupted. 'There is no smartnessabout sailors. They waddle like ducks, and they only fight stupidbattles that no one can form any idea of. There is no science norstratagem in sea-fights--nothing more than what you see when two rams runtheir heads together in a field to knock each other down. But inmilitary battles there is such art, and such splendour, and the men areso smart, particularly the horse-soldiers. O, I shall never forget whatgallant men you all seemed when you came and pitched your tents on thedowns! I like the cavalry better than anything I know; and the dragoonsthe best of the cavalry--and the trumpeters the best of the dragoons!'
'O, if it had but come a little sooner!' moaned John within him. Hereplied as soon as he could regain self-command, 'I am glad Bob is in thenavy at last--he is so much more fitted for that than themerchant-service--so brave by nature, ready for any daring deed. I haveheard ever so much more about his doings on board the Victory. CaptainHardy took special notice that when he--'
'I don't want to know anything more about it,' said Anne impatiently; 'ofcourse sailors fight; there's nothing else to do in a ship, since youcan't run away! You may as well fight and be killed as be killed notfighting.'
'Still it is his character to be careless of himself where the honour ofhis country is concerned,' John pleaded. 'If you had only known him as aboy you would own it. He would always risk his own life to save anybodyelse's. Once when a cottage was afire up the lane he rushed in for ababy, although he was only a boy himself, and he had the narrowestescape. We have got his hat now with the hole burnt in it. Shall I getit and show it to you?'
'No--I don't wish it. It has nothing to do with me.' But as hepersisted in his course towards the door, she added, 'Ah! you are leavingbecause I am in your way. You want to be alone while you read thepaper--I will go at once. I did not see that I was interrupting you.'And she rose as if to retreat.
'No, no! I would ra
ther be interrupted by _you_ than--O, Miss Garland,excuse me! I'll just speak to father in the mill, now I am here.'
It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne (whose unquestionablegentility amid somewhat homely surroundings has been many times insistedon in the course of this history) was usually the reverse of a woman witha coming-on disposition; but, whether from pique at his manner, or fromwilful adherence to a course rashly resolved on, or from coquettishmaliciousness in reaction from long depression, or from any otherthing,--so it was that she would not let him go.
'Trumpet-major,' she said, recalling him.
'Yes?' he replied timidly.
'The bow of my cap-ribbon has come untied, has it not?' She turned andfixed her bewitching glance upon him.
The bow was just over her forehead, or, more precisely, at the pointwhere the organ of comparison merges in that of benevolence, according tothe phrenological theory of Gall. John, thus brought to, endeavoured tolook at the bow in a skimming, duck-and-drake fashion, so as to avoiddipping his own glance as far as to the plane of his interrogator's eyes.'It is untied,' he said, drawing back a little.
She came nearer, and asked, 'Will you tie it for me, please?'
As there was no help for it, he nerved himself and assented. As her headonly reached to his fourth button she necessarily looked up for hisconvenience, and John began fumbling at the bow. Try as he would it wasimpossible to touch the ribbon without getting his finger tips mixed withthe curls of her forehead.
'Your hand shakes--ah! you have been walking fast,' she said.
'Yes--yes.'
'Have you almost done it?' She inquiringly directed her gaze upwardthrough his fingers.
'No--not yet,' he faltered in a warm sweat of emotion, his heart goinglike a flail.
'Then be quick, please.'
'Yes, I will, Miss Garland! B-B-Bob is a very good fel--'
'Not that man's name to me!' she interrupted.
John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the rustlingof the ribbon; till his hands once more blundered among the curls, andthen touched her forehead.
'O good God!' ejaculated the trumpet-major in a whisper, turning awayhastily to the corner-cupboard, and resting his face upon his hand.
'What's the matter, John?' said she.
'I can't do it!'
'What?'
'Tie your cap-ribbon.'
'Why not?'
'Because you are so--Because I am clumsy, and never could tie a bow.'
'You are clumsy indeed,' answered Anne, and went away.
After this she felt injured, for it seemed to show that he rated herhappiness as of meaner value than Bob's; since he had persisted in hisidea of giving Bob another chance when she had implied that it was herwish to do otherwise. Could Miss Johnson have anything to do with hisfirmness? An opportunity of testing him in this direction occurred somedays later. She had been up the village, and met John at the mill-door.
'Have you heard the news? Matilda Johnson is going to be married toyoung Derriman.'
Anne stood with her back to the sun, and as he faced her, his featureswere searchingly exhibited. There was no change whatever in them, unlessit were that a certain light of interest kindled by her question turnedto complete and blank indifference. 'Well, as times go, it is not a badmatch for her,' he said, with a phlegm which was hardly that of a lover.
John on his part was beginning to find these temptations almost more thanhe could bear. But being quartered so near to his father's house it wasunnatural not to visit him, especially when at any moment the regimentmight be ordered abroad, and a separation of years ensue; and as long ashe went there he could not help seeing her.
The year changed from green to gold, and from gold to grey, but littlechange came over the house of Loveday. During the last twelve months Bobhad been occasionally heard of as upholding his country's honour inDenmark, the West Indies, Gibraltar, Malta, and other places about theglobe, till the family received a short letter stating that he hadarrived again at Portsmouth. At Portsmouth Bob seemed disposed toremain, for though some time elapsed without further intelligence, thegallant seaman never appeared at Overcombe. Then on a sudden John learntthat Bob's long-talked-of promotion for signal services rendered was tobe an accomplished fact. The trumpet-major at once walked off toOvercombe, and reached the village in the early afternoon. Not one ofthe family was in the house at the moment, and John strolled onwards overthe hill towards Casterbridge, without much thought of direction till,lifting his eyes, he beheld Anne Garland wandering about with a littlebasket upon her arm.
At first John blushed with delight at the sweet vision; but, recalled byhis conscience, the blush of delight was at once mangled and slain. Helooked for a means of retreat. But the field was open, and a soldier wasa conspicuous object: there was no escaping her.
'It was kind of you to come,' she said, with an inviting smile.
'It was quite by accident,' he answered, with an indifferent laugh. 'Ithought you was at home.'
Anne blushed and said nothing, and they rambled on together. In themiddle of the field rose a fragment of stone wall in the form of a gable,known as Faringdon Ruin; and when they had reached it John paused andpolitely asked her if she were not a little tired with walking so far. Noparticular reply was returned by the young lady, but they both stopped,and Anne seated herself on a stone, which had fallen from the ruin to theground.
'A church once stood here,' observed John in a matter-of-fact tone.
'Yes, I have often shaped it out in my mind,' she returned. 'Here whereI sit must have been the altar.'
'True; this standing bit of wall was the chancel end.'
Anne had been adding up her little studies of the trumpet-major'scharacter, and was surprised to find how the brightness of that characterincreased in her eyes with each examination. A kindly and gentlesensation was again aroused in her. Here was a neglected heroic man,who, loving her to distraction, deliberately doomed himself to pensiveshade to avoid even the appearance of standing in a brother's way.
'If the altar stood here, hundreds of people have been made man and wifejust there, in past times,' she said, with calm deliberateness, throwinga little stone on a spot about a yard westward.
John annihilated another tender burst and replied, 'Yes, this field usedto be a village. My grandfather could call to mind when there werehouses here. But the squire pulled 'em down, because poor folk were aneyesore to him.'
'Do you know, John, what you once asked me to do?' she continued, notaccepting the digression, and turning her eyes upon him.
'In what sort of way?'
'In the matter of my future life, and yours.'
'I am afraid I don't.'
'John Loveday!'
He turned his back upon her for a moment, that she might not see hisface. 'Ah--I do remember,' he said at last, in a dry, small, repressedvoice.
'Well--need I say more? Isn't it sufficient?'
'It would be sufficient,' answered the unhappy man. 'But--'
She looked up with a reproachful smile, and shook her head. 'Thatsummer,' she went on, 'you asked me ten times if you asked me once. I amolder now; much more of a woman, you know; and my opinion is changedabout some people; especially about one.'
'O Anne, Anne!' he burst out as, racked between honour and desire, hesnatched up her hand. The next moment it fell heavily to her lap. Hehad absolutely relinquished it half-way to his lips.
'I have been thinking lately,' he said, with preternaturally suddencalmness, 'that men of the military profession ought not to m--ought tobe like St. Paul, I mean.'
'Fie, John; pretending religion!' she said sternly. 'It isn't that atall. _It's Bob_!'
'Yes!' cried the miserable trumpet-major. 'I have had a letter from himto-day.' He pulled out a sheet of paper from his breast. 'That's it!He's promoted--he's a lieutenant, and appointed to a sloop that onlycruises on our own coast, so that he'll be at home on leave half histime--he'll be a gentl
eman some day, and worthy of you!'
He threw the letter into her lap, and drew back to the other side of thegable-wall. Anne jumped up from her seat, flung away the letter withoutlooking at it, and went hastily on. John did not attempt to overtakeher. Picking up the letter, he followed in her wake at a distance of ahundred yards.
But, though Anne had withdrawn from his presence thus precipitately, shenever thought more highly of him in her life than she did five minutesafterwards, when the excitement of the moment had passed. She saw it allquite clearly; and his self-sacrifice impressed her so much that theeffect was just the reverse of what he had been aiming to produce. Themore he pleaded for Bob, the more her perverse generosity pleaded forJohn. To-day the crisis had come--with what results she had notforeseen.
As soon as the trumpet-major reached the nearest pen-and-ink he flunghimself into a seat and wrote wildly to Bob:--
'DEAR ROBERT,--I write these few lines to let you know that if you want Anne Garland you must come at once--you must come instantly, and post-haste--_or she will be gone_! Somebody else wants her, and she wants him! It is your last chance, in the opinion of--
'Your faithful brother and well-wisher, 'JOHN.
'P.S.--Glad to hear of your promotion. Tell me the day and I'll meet the coach.'