V
Through the Moonlight
The next evening the mummers were assembled in the same spot, awaitingthe entrance of the Turkish Knight.
"Twenty minutes after eight by the Quiet Woman, and Charley not come."
"Ten minutes past by Blooms-End."
"It wants ten minutes to, by Grandfer Cantle's watch."
"And 'tis five minutes past by the captain's clock."
On Egdon there was no absolute hour of the day. The time at anymoment was a number of varying doctrines professed by the differenthamlets, some of them having originally grown up from a common root,and then become divided by secession, some having been alien from thebeginning. West Egdon believed in Blooms-End time, East Egdon in thetime of the Quiet Woman Inn. Grandfer Cantle's watch had numberedmany followers in years gone by, but since he had grown older faithswere shaken. Thus, the mummers having gathered hither from scatteredpoints each came with his own tenets on early and late; and theywaited a little longer as a compromise.
Eustacia had watched the assemblage through the hole; and seeing thatnow was the proper moment to enter, she went from the "linhay" andboldly pulled the bobbin of the fuel-house door. Her grandfather wassafe at the Quiet Woman.
"Here's Charley at last! How late you be, Charley."
"'Tis not Charley," said the Turkish Knight from within his visor."'Tis a cousin of Miss Vye's, come to take Charley's place fromcuriosity. He was obliged to go and look for the heath-croppers thathave got into the meads, and I agreed to take his place, as he knew hecouldn't come back here again tonight. I know the part as well as he."
Her graceful gait, elegant figure, and dignified manner in general wonthe mummers to the opinion that they had gained by the exchange, ifthe newcomer were perfect in his part.
"It don't matter--if you be not too young," said Saint George.Eustacia's voice had sounded somewhat more juvenile and fluty thanCharley's.
"I know every word of it, I tell you," said Eustacia decisively. Dashbeing all that was required to carry her triumphantly through, sheadopted as much as was necessary. "Go ahead, lads, with the try-over.I'll challenge any of you to find a mistake in me."
The play was hastily rehearsed, whereupon the other mummers weredelighted with the new knight. They extinguished the candles athalf-past eight, and set out upon the heath in the direction of Mrs.Yeobright's house at Bloom's-End.
There was a slight hoar-frost that night, and the moon, though notmore than half full, threw a spirited and enticing brightness uponthe fantastic figures of the mumming band, whose plumes and ribbonsrustled in their walk like autumn leaves. Their path was not overRainbarrow now, but down a valley which left that ancient elevationa little to the east. The bottom of the vale was green to a width often yards or thereabouts, and the shining facets of frost upon theblades of grass seemed to move on with the shadows of those theysurrounded. The masses of furze and heath to the right and left weredark as ever; a mere half-moon was powerless to silver such sablefeatures as theirs.
Half-an-hour of walking and talking brought them to the spot in thevalley where the grass riband widened and led down to the front ofthe house. At sight of the place Eustacia, who had felt a few passingdoubts during her walk with the youths, again was glad that theadventure had been undertaken. She had come out to see a man whomight possibly have the power to deliver her soul from a most deadlyoppression. What was Wildeve? Interesting, but inadequate. Perhapsshe would see a sufficient hero tonight.
As they drew nearer to the front of the house the mummers became awarethat music and dancing were briskly flourishing within. Every nowand then a long low note from the serpent, which was the chief windinstrument played at these times, advanced further into the heath thanthe thin treble part, and reached their ears alone; and next a morethan usually loud tread from a dancer would come the same way. Withnearer approach these fragmentary sounds became pieced together,and were found to be the salient points of the tune called "Nancy'sFancy."
He was there, of course. Who was she that he danced with? Perhapssome unknown woman, far beneath herself in culture, was by that mostsubtle of lures sealing his fate this very instant. To dance with aman is to concentrate a twelve-month's regulation fire upon him in thefragment of an hour. To pass to courtship without acquaintance, topass to marriage without courtship, is a skipping of terms reservedfor those alone who tread this royal road. She would see how his heartlay by keen observation of them all.
The enterprising lady followed the mumming company through the gatein the white paling, and stood before the open porch. The house wasencrusted with heavy thatchings, which dropped between the upperwindows; the front, upon which the moonbeams directly played, hadoriginally been white; but a huge pyracanth now darkened the greaterportion.
It became at once evident that the dance was proceeding immediatelywithin the surface of the door, no apartment intervening. The brushingof skirts and elbows, sometimes the bumping of shoulders, could beheard against the very panels. Eustacia, though living within twomiles of the place, had never seen the interior of this quaint oldhabitation. Between Captain Vye and the Yeobrights there had neverexisted much acquaintance, the former having come as a stranger andpurchased the long-empty house at Mistover Knap not long beforethe death of Mrs. Yeobright's husband; and with that event and thedeparture of her son such friendship as had grown up became quitebroken off.
"Is there no passage inside the door, then?" asked Eustacia as theystood within the porch.
"No," said the lad who played the Saracen. "The door opens right uponthe front sitting-room, where the spree's going on."
"So that we cannot open the door without stopping the dance."
"That's it. Here we must bide till they have done, for they alwaysbolt the back door after dark."
"They won't be much longer," said Father Christmas.
This assertion, however, was hardly borne out by the event. Again theinstruments ended the tune; again they recommenced with as much fireand pathos as if it were the first strain. The air was now that onewithout any particular beginning, middle, or end, which perhaps, amongall the dances which throng an inspired fiddler's fancy, best conveysthe idea of the interminable--the celebrated "Devil's Dream." Thefury of personal movement that was kindled by the fury of the notescould be approximately imagined by these outsiders under the moon,from the occasional kicks of toes and heels against the door, wheneverthe whirl round had been of more than customary velocity.
The first five minutes of listening was interesting enough to themummers. The five minutes extended to ten minutes, and these to aquarter of an hour; but no signs of ceasing were audible in the livelyDream. The bumping against the door, the laughter, the stamping, wereall as vigorous as ever, and the pleasure in being outside lessenedconsiderably.
"Why does Mrs. Yeobright give parties of this sort?" Eustacia asked,a little surprised to hear merriment so pronounced.
"It is not one of her bettermost parlour-parties. She's asked theplain neighbours and workpeople without drawing any lines, just togive 'em a good supper and such like. Her son and she wait upon thefolks."
"I see," said Eustacia.
"'Tis the last strain, I think," said Saint George, with his ear tothe panel. "A young man and woman have just swung into this corner,and he's saying to her, 'Ah, the pity; 'tis over for us this time, myown.'"
"Thank God!" said the Turkish Knight, stamping, and taking from thewall the conventional lance that each of the mummers carried. Herboots being thinner than those of the young men, the hoar had dampedher feet and made them cold.
"Upon my song 'tis another ten minutes for us," said the ValiantSoldier, looking through the keyhole as the tune modulated intoanother without stopping. "Grandfer Cantle is standing in thiscorner, waiting his turn."
"'Twon't be long; 'tis a six-handed reel," said the Doctor.
"Why not go in, dancing or no? They sent for us," said the Saracen.
"Certainly not," said Eustacia authoritatively, as she paced sma
rtlyup and down from door to gate to warm herself. "We should burst intothe middle of them and stop the dance, and that would be unmannerly."
"He thinks himself somebody because he has had a bit more schoolingthan we," said the Doctor.
"You may go to the deuce!" said Eustacia.
There was a whispered conversation between three or four of them, andone turned to her.
"Will you tell us one thing?" he said, not without gentleness. "Beyou Miss Vye? We think you must be."
"You may think what you like," said Eustacia slowly. "But honourablelads will not tell tales upon a lady."
"We'll say nothing, miss. That's upon our honour."
"Thank you," she replied.
At this moment the fiddles finished off with a screech, and theserpent emitted a last note that nearly lifted the roof. When, fromthe comparative quiet within, the mummers judged that the dancers hadtaken their seats, Father Christmas advanced, lifted the latch, andput his head inside the door.
"Ah, the mummers, the mummers!" cried several guests at once. "Cleara space for the mummers."
Hump-backed Father Christmas then made a complete entry, swinging hishuge club, and in a general way clearing the stage for the actorsproper, while he informed the company in smart verse that he was come,welcome or welcome not; concluding his speech with
"Make room, make room, my gallant boys, And give us space to rhyme; We've come to show Saint George's play, Upon this Christmas time."
The guests were now arranging themselves at one end of the room, thefiddler was mending a string, the serpent-player was emptying hismouthpiece, and the play began. First of those outside the ValiantSoldier entered, in the interest of Saint George--
"Here come I, the Valiant Soldier; Slasher is my name;"
and so on. This speech concluded with a challenge to the infidel,at the end of which it was Eustacia's duty to enter as the TurkishKnight. She, with the rest who were not yet on, had hitherto remainedin the moonlight which streamed under the porch. With no apparenteffort or backwardness she came in, beginning--
"Here come I, a Turkish Knight, Who learnt in Turkish land to fight; I'll fight this man with courage bold: If his blood's hot I'll make it cold!"
During her declamation Eustacia held her head erect, and spoke asroughly as she could, feeling pretty secure from observation. Butthe concentration upon her part necessary to prevent discovery, thenewness of the scene, the shine of the candles, and the confusingeffect upon her vision of the ribboned visor which hid her features,left her absolutely unable to perceive who were present as spectators.On the further side of a table bearing candles she could faintlydiscern faces, and that was all.
Meanwhile Jim Starks as the Valiant Soldier had come forward, and,with a glare upon the Turk, replied--
"If, then, thou art that Turkish Knight, Draw out thy sword, and let us fight!"
And fight they did; the issue of the combat being that the ValiantSoldier was slain by a preternaturally inadequate thrust fromEustacia, Jim, in his ardour for genuine histrionic art, coming downlike a log upon the stone floor with force enough to dislocate hisshoulder. Then, after more words from the Turkish Knight, rather toofaintly delivered, and statements that he'd fight Saint George andall his crew, Saint George himself magnificently entered with thewell-known flourish--
"Here come I, Saint George, the valiant man, With naked sword and spear in hand, Who fought the dragon and brought him to the slaughter, And by this won fair Sabra, the King of Egypt's daughter; What mortal man would dare to stand Before me with my sword in hand?"
This was the lad who had first recognized Eustacia; and when she now,as the Turk, replied with suitable defiance, and at once began thecombat, the young fellow took especial care to use his sword as gentlyas possible. Being wounded, the Knight fell upon one knee, accordingto the direction. The Doctor now entered, restored the Knight bygiving him a draught from the bottle which he carried, and thefight was again resumed, the Turk sinking by degrees until quiteovercome--dying as hard in this venerable drama as he is said to do atthe present day.
This gradual sinking to the earth was, in fact, one reason whyEustacia had thought that the part of the Turkish Knight, though notthe shortest, would suit her best. A direct fall from upright tohorizontal, which was the end of the other fighting characters, wasnot an elegant or decorous part for a girl. But it was easy to dielike a Turk, by a dogged decline.
Eustacia was now among the number of the slain, though not on thefloor, for she had managed to sink into a sloping position against theclock-case, so that her head was well elevated. The play proceededbetween Saint George, the Saracen, the Doctor, and Father Christmas;and Eustacia, having no more to do, for the first time found leisureto observe the scene round, and to search for the form that had drawnher hither.