还乡The Return Of The Native-第19部分

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en　to　herself　the　possible　evanescence　of　her　passion　for　him。　　She　could　not　admit　at　once　that　she　might　have　overestimated　Wildeve；　for　to　perceive　his　mediocrity　now　was　to　admit　her　own　great　folly　heretofore。　　And　the　discovery　that　she　was　the　owner　of　a　disposition　so　purely　that　of　the　dog　in　the　manger　had　something　in　it　which　at　first　made　her　ashamed。　
The　fruit　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　diplomacy　was　indeed　remarkable；　though　not　as　yet　of　the　kind　she　had　anticipated。　　It　had　appreciably　influenced　Wildeve；　but　it　was　influencing　Eustacia　far　more。　　Her　lover　was　no　longer　to　her　an　exciting　man　whom　many　women　strove　for；　and　herself　could　only　retain　by　striving　with　them。　　He　was　a　superfluity。
She　went　indoors　in　that　peculiar　state　of　misery　which　is　not　exactly　grief；　and　which　especially　attends　the　dawnings　of　reason　in　the　latter　days　of　an　ill…judged；　transient　love。　　To　be　conscious　that　the　end　of　the　dream　is　approaching；　and　yet　has　not　absolutely　e；　is　one　of　the　most　wearisome　as　well　as　the　most　curious　stages　along　the　course　between　the　beginning　of　a　passion　and　its　end。　
Her　grandfather　had　returned；　and　was　busily　engaged　in　pouring　some　gallons　of　newly　arrived　rum　into　the　square　bottles　of　his　square　cellaret。　　Whenever　these　home　supplies　were　exhausted　he　would　go　to　the　Quiet　Woman；　and；　standing　with　his　back　to　the　fire；　grog　in　hand；　tell　remarkable　stories　of　how　he　had　lived　seven　years　under　the　waterline　of　his　ship；　and　other　naval　wonders；　to　the　natives；　who　hoped　too　earnestly　for　a　treat　of　ale　from　the　teller　to　exhibit　any　doubts　of　his　truth。　
He　had　been　there　this　evening。　　“I　suppose　you　have　heard　the　Egdon　news；　Eustacia？”　he　said；　without　looking　up　from　the　bottles。　　“The　men　have　been　talking　about　it　at　the　Woman　as　if　it　were　of　national　importance。”
“I　have　heard　none；”　she　said。　
“Young　Clym　Yeobright；　as　they　call　him；　is　ing　home　next　week　to　spend　Christmas　with　his　mother。　　He　is　a　fine　fellow　by　this　time；　it　seems。　　I　suppose　you　remember　him？”
“I　never　saw　him　in　my　life。”
“Ah；　true；　he　left　before　you　came　here。　　I　well　remember　him　as　a　promising　boy。”
“Where　has　he　been　living　all　these　years？”
“In　that　rookery　of　pomp　and　vanity；　Paris；　I　believe。”


book　two
THE　ARRIVAL


1　… Tidings　of　the　er


On　the　fine　days　at　this　time　of　the　year；　and　earlier；　certain　ephemeral　operations　were　apt　to　disturb；　in　their　trifling　way；　the　majestic　calm　of　Egdon　Heath。　　They　were　activities　which；　beside　those　of　a　town；　a　village；　or　even　a　farm；　would　have　appeared　as　the　ferment　of　stagnation　merely；　a　creeping　of　the　flesh　of　somnolence。　　But　here；　away　from　parisons；　shut　in　by　the　stable　hills；　among　which　mere　walking　had　the　novelty　of　pageantry；　and　where　any　man　could　imagine　himself　to　be　Adam　without　the　least　difficulty；　they　attracted　the　attention　of　every　bird　within　eyeshot；　every　reptile　not　yet　asleep；　and　set　the　surrounding　rabbits　curiously　watching　from　hillocks　at　a　safe　distance。　
The　performance　was　that　of　bringing　together　and　building　into　a　stack　the　furze　faggots　which　Humphrey　had　been　cutting　for　the　captain’s　use　during　the　foregoing　fine　days。　　The　stack　was　at　the　end　of　the　dwelling；　and　the　men　engaged　in　building　it　were　Humphrey　and　Sam；　the　old　man　looking　on。　
It　was　a　fine　and　quiet　afternoon；　about　three　o’clock；　but　the　winter　solstice　having　stealthily　e　on；　the　lowness　of　the　sun　caused　the　hour　to　seem　later　than　it　actually　was；　there　being　little　here　to　remind　an　inhabitant　that　he　must　unlearn　his　summer　experience　of　the　sky　as　a　dial。　　In　the　course　of　many　days　and　weeks　sunrise　had　advanced　its　quarters　from　northeast　to　southeast；　sunset　had　receded　from　northwest　to　southwest；　but　Egdon　had　hardly　heeded　the　change。　
Eustacia　was　indoors　in　the　dining…room；　which　was　really　more　like　a　kitchen；　having　a　stone　floor　and　a　gaping　chimney…corner。　The　air　was　still；　and　while　she　lingered　a　moment　here　alone　sounds　of　voices　in　conversation　came　to　her　ears　directly　down　the　chimney。　　She　entered　the　recess；　and；　listening；　looked　up　the　old　irregular　shaft；　with　its　cavernous　hollows；　where　the　smoke　blundered　about　on　its　way　to　the　square　bit　of　sky　at　the　top；　from　which　the　daylight　struck　down　with　a　pallid　glare　upon　the　tatters　of　soot　draping　the　flue　as　seaweed　drapes　a　rocky　fissure。
She　remembered：　the　furze…stack　was　not　far　from　the　chimney；　and　the　voices　were　those　of　the　workers。　
Her　grandfather　joined　in　the　conversation。　　“That　lad　ought　never　to　have　left　home。　　His　father’s　occupation　would　have　suited　him　best；　and　the　boy　should　have　followed　on。　　I　don’t　believe　in　these　new　moves　in　families。　　My　father　was　a　sailor；　so　was　I；　and　so　should　my　son　have　been　if　I　had　had　one。”
“The　place　he’s　been　living　at　is　Paris；”　said　Humphrey；　“and　they　tell　me　‘tis　where　the　king’s　head　was　cut　off　years　ago。　　My　poor　mother　used　to　tell　me　about　that　business。　
‘Hummy；’　she　used　to　say；　‘I　was　a　young　maid　then；
and　as　I　was　at　home　ironing　Mother’s　caps　one　afternoon
the　parson　came　in　and　said；　“They’ve　cut　the　king’s
head　off；　Jane；　and　what　‘twill　be　next　God　knows。”’”
“A　good　many　of　us　knew　as　well　as　He　before　long；”　said　the　captain；　chuckling。　　“I　lived　seven　years　under　water　on　account　of　it　in　my　boyhood—in　that　damned　surgery　of　the　Triumph；　seeing　men　brought　down　to　the　cockpit　with　their　legs　and　arms　blown　to　Jericho。。。。And　so　the　young　man　has　settled　in　Paris。　　Manager　to　a　diamond　merchant；　or　some　such　thing；　is　he　not？”
“Yes；　sir；　that’s　it。　　‘Tis　a　blazing　great　business　that　he　belongs　to；　so　I’ve　heard　his　mother　say—like　a　king’s　palace；　as　far　as　diments　go。”
“I　can　well　mind　when　he　left　home；”　said　Sam。
“’Tis　a　good　thing　for　the　feller；”　said　Humphrey。　　“A　sight　of　times　better　to　be　selling　diments　than　nobbling　about　here。”
“It　must　cost　a　good　few　shillings　to　deal　at　such　a　place。”
“A　good　few　indeed；　my　man；”　replied　the　captain。　　“Yes；　you　may　make　away　with　a　deal　of　money　and　be　neither　drunkard　nor　glutton。”
“They　say；　too；　that　Clym　Yeobright　is　bee　a　real　perusing　man；　with　the　strangest　notions　about　things。　　There；　that’s　because　he　went　to　school　early；　such　as　the　school　was。”
“Strange　notions；　has　he？”　said　the　old　man。　　“Ah；　there’s　too　much　of　that　sending　to　school　in　these　days！　It　only　does　harm。　　Every　gatepost　and　barn’s　door　you　e　to　is　sure　to　have　some　bad　word　or　other　chalked　upon　it　by　the　young　rascals—a　woman　can　hardly　pass　for　shame　sometimes。　　If　they’d　never　been　taught　how　to　write　they　wouldn’t　have　been　able　to　scribble　such　villainy。　　Their　fathers　couldn’t　do　it；　and　the　country　was　all　the　better　for　it。”
“Now；　I　should　think；　Cap’n；　that　Miss　Eustacia　had　about　as　much　in　her　head　that　es　from　books　as　anybody　about　here？”
“Perhaps　if　Miss　Eustacia；　too；　had　less　romantic　nonsense　in　her　head　it　would　be　better　for　her；”　said　the　captain　shortly；　after　which　he　walked　away。　
“I　say；　Sam；”　observed　Humphrey　when　the　old　man　was　gone；　“she　and　Clym　Yeobright　would　make　a　very　pretty　pigeon…pair—hey？　　If　they　wouldn’t　I’ll　be　dazed！　Both　of　one　mind　about　niceties　for　certain；　and　learned　in　print；　and　always　thinking　about　high　doctrine—there　couldn’t　be　a　better　couple　if　they　were　made　o’　purpose。　　Clym’s　family　is　as　good　as　hers。　　His　father　was　a　farmer；　that’s　true；　but　his　mother　was　a　sort　of　lady；　as　we　know。　　Nothing　would　please　me　better　than　to　see　them　two　man　and　wife。”
“They’d　look　very　natty；　arm…in…crook　together；　and　their　best　clothes　on；　whether　or　no；　if　he’s　at　all　the　well…favoured　fellow　he　used　to　be。”
“They　would；　Humphrey。　　Well；　I　should　like　to　see　the　chap　terrible　much　after　so　many　years。　　If　I　knew　for　certain　when　he　was　ing　I’d　stroll　out　three　or　four　miles　to　meet　him　and　help　carry　anything　for’n；　though　I　suppose　he’s　altered　from　the　boy　he　was。　　They　say　he　can　talk　French　as　fast　as　a　maid　can　eat　blackberries；　and　if　so；　depend　upon　it　we　who　have　stayed　at　home　shall　seem　no　more　than　scroff　in　his　eyes。”
“ing　across　the　water　to　Budmouth　by　steamer；　isn’t　he？”
“Yes；　but　how　he’s　ing　from　Budmouth　I　don’t　know。”
“That’s　a　bad　trouble　about　his　cousin　Thomasin。　　I　wonder　such　a　nice…notioned　fellow　as　Clym　likes　to　e　home　into　it。　　What　a　nunnywatch　we　were　in；　to　be　sure；　when　we　heard　they　weren’t　married　at　all；　after　singing　to　‘em　as　man　and　wife　that　night！　Be　dazed　if　I　should　like　a　relation　of　mine　to　have　been　made　such　a　fool　of　by　a　man。　　It　makes　the　family　look　small。”
“Yes。　Poor　maid；　her　heart　has　ached　enough　about　it。　　Her　health　is　suffering　from　it；　I　hear；　for　she　will　bide　entirely　indoors。　　We　never　see　her　out　now；　scampering　over　the　furze　with　a　face　as　red　as　a　rose；　as　she　used　to　do。”
“I’ve　heard　she　wouldn’t　have　Wildeve　now　if　he　asked　her。”
“You　have？　　‘Tis　news　to　me。”
While　the　furze…gatherers　had　desultorily　conversed　thus　Eustacia’s　face　gradually　bent　to　the　hearth　in　a　profound　reverie；　her　toe　unconsciously　tapping　the　dry　turf　which　lay　burning　at　her　feet。　
The　subject　of　their　discourse　had　been　keenly　interesting　to　her。　　A　young　and　clever　man　was　ing　into　that　lonely　heath　from；　of　all　contrasting　places　in　the　world；　Paris。　　It　was　like　a　man　ing　from　heaven。　　More　singular　still；　the　heathmen　had　instinctively　coupled　her　and　this　man　together　in　their　minds　as　a　pair　born　for　each　other。　
That　five　minutes　of　overhearing　furnished　Eustacia　with　visions　enough　to　fill　the　whole　blank　afternoon。　　Such　sudden　alternations　from　mental　vacuity　do　sometimes　occur　thus　quietly。　　She　could　never　have　believed　in　the　morning　that　her　colourless　inner　world　would　before　night　bee　as　animated　as　water　under　a　microscope；　and　that　without　the　arrival　of　a　single　visitor。　　The　words　of　Sam　and　Humphrey　on　the　harmony　between　the　unknown　and　herself　had　on　her　mind　the　effect　of　the　invading　Bard’s　prelude　in　the　Castle　of　Indolence；　at　which　myriads　of　imprisoned　shapes　arose　where　had　previously　appeared　the　stillness　of　a　void。　
Involved　in　these　imaginings　she　knew　nothing　of　time。
When　she　became　conscious　of　externals　it　was　dusk。　
The　furze…rick　was　finished；　the　men　had　gone　home。　　Eustacia　went　upstairs；　thinking　that　she　would　take　a　walk　at　this　her　usual　time；　and　she　determined　that　her　walk　should　be　in　the　direction　of　Blooms…End；　the　birthplace　of　young　Yeobright　and　the　present　home　of　his　mother。　　She　had　no　reason　for　walking　elsewhere；　and　why　should　she　not　go　that　way？　　The　scene　of　the　daydream　is　sufficient　for　a　pilgrimage　at　nineteen。　　To　look　at　the　palings　before　the　Yeobrights’　house　had　the　dignity　of　a　necessary　performance。　　Strange　that　such　a　piece　of　idling　should　have　seemed　an　important　errand。　
She　put　on　her　bonnet；　and；　leaving　the　house；　descended　the　hill　on　the　side　towards　Blooms…End；　where　she　walked　slowly　along　the　valley　for　a　distance　of　a　mile　and　a　half。　　This　brought　her　to　a　spot　in　which　the　green　bottom　of　the　dale　began　to　widen；　the　furze　bushes　to　recede　yet　further　from　the　path　on　each　side；　till　they　were　diminished　to　an　isolated