还乡The Return Of The Native-第23部分

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The　next　evening　Eustacia　stood　punctually　at　the　fuelhouse　door；　waiting　for　the　dusk　which　was　to　bring　Charley　with　the　trappings。　　Her　grandfather　was　at　home　tonight；　and　she　would　be　unable　to　ask　her　confederate　indoors。　
He　appeared　on　the　dark　ridge　of　heathland；　like　a　fly　on　a　Negro；　bearing　the　articles　with　him；　and　came　up　breathless　with　his　walk。　
“Here　are　the　things；”　he　whispered；　placing　them　upon
the　threshold。　　“And　now；　Miss　Eustacia—“
“The　payment。　　It　is　quite　ready。　　I　am　as　good　as　my　word。”
She　leant　against　the　door…post；　and　gave　him　her　hand。　　Charley　took　it　in　both　his　own　with　a　tenderness　beyond　description；　unless　it　was　like　that　of　a　child　holding　a　captured　sparrow。　
“Why；　there’s　a　glove　on　it！”　he　said　in　a　deprecating　way。　
“I　have　been　walking；”　she　observed。　
“But；　miss！”
“Well—it　is　hardly　fair。”　　She　pulled　off　the　glove；　and　gave　him　her　bare　hand。　
They　stood　together　minute　after　minute；　without　further　speech；　each　looking　at　the　blackening　scene；　and　each　thinking　his　and　her　own　thoughts。　
“I　think　I　won’t　use　it　all　up　tonight；”　said　Charley　devotedly；　when　six　or　eight　minutes　had　been　passed　by　him　caressing　her　hand。　　“May　I　have　the　other　few　minutes　another　time？”
“As　you　like；”　said　she　without　the　least　emotion。　　“But　it　must　be　over　in　a　week。　　Now；　there　is　only　one　thing　I　want　you　to　do—to　wait　while　I　put　on　the　dress；　and　then　to　see　if　I　do　my　part　properly。　　But　let　me　look　first　indoors。”
She　vanished　for　a　minute　or　two；　and　went　in。　　Her　grandfather　was　safely　asleep　in　his　chair。　　“Now；　then；”　she　said；　on　returning；　“walk　down　the　garden　a　little　way；　and　when　I　am　ready　I’ll　call　you。”
Charley　walked　and　waited；　and　presently　heard　a　soft　whistle。　
He　returned　to　the　fuelhouse　door。　
“Did　you　whistle；　Miss　Vye？”
“Yes；　e　in；”　reached　him　in　Eustacia’s　voice　from　a　back　quarter。　　“I　must　not　strike　a　light　till　the　door　is　shut；　or　it　may　be　seen　shining。　　Push　your　hat　into　the　hole　through　to　the　wash…house；　if　you　can　feel　your　way　across。”
Charley　did　as　manded；　and　she　struck　the　light　revealing　herself　to　be　changed　in　sex；　brilliant　in　colours；　and　armed　from　top　to　toe。　　Perhaps　she　quailed　a　little　under　Charley’s　vigorous　gaze；　but　whether　any　shyness　at　her　male　attire　appeared　upon　her　countenance　could　not　be　seen　by　reason　of　the　strips　of　ribbon　which　used　to　cover　the　face　in　mumming　costumes；　representing　the　barred　visor　of　the　mediaeval　helmet。　
“It　fits　pretty　well；”　she　said；　looking　down　at　the　white　overalls；　“except　that　the　tunic；　or　whatever　you　call　it；　is　long　in　the　sleeve。　　The　bottom　of　the　overalls　I　can　turn　up　inside。　　Now　pay　attention。”
Eustacia　then　proceeded　in　her　delivery；　striking　the　sword　against　the　staff　or　lance　at　the　minatory　phrases；　in　the　orthodox　mumming　manner；　and　strutting　up　and　down。　　Charley　seasoned　his　admiration　with　criticism　of　the　gentlest　kind；　for　the　touch　of　Eustacia’s　hand　yet　remained　with　him。　
“And　now　for　your　excuse　to　the　others；”　she　said。　
“Where　do　you　meet　before　you　go　to　Mrs。　Yeobright’s？”
“We　thought　of　meeting　here；　miss；　if　you　have　nothing　to　say　against　it。　　At　eight　o’clock；　so　as　to　get　there　by　nine。”
“Yes。　Well；　you　of　course　must　not　appear。　　I　will　march　in　about　five　minutes　late；　ready…dressed；　and　tell　them　that　you　can’t　e。　　I　have　decided　that　the　best　plan　will　be　for　you　to　be　sent　somewhere　by　me；　to　make　a　real　thing　of　the　excuse。　　Our　two　heath…croppers　are　in　the　habit　of　straying　into　the　meads；　and　tomorrow　evening　you　can　go　and　see　if　they　are　gone　there。　　I’ll　manage　the　rest。　　Now　you　may　leave　me。”
“Yes；　miss。　　But　I　think　I’ll　have　one　minute　more　of　what　I　am　owed；　if　you　don’t　mind。”
Eustacia　gave　him　her　hand　as　before。　
“One　minute；”　she　said；　and　counted　on　till　she　reached　seven　or　eight　minutes。　　Hand　and　person　she　then　withdrew　to　a　distance　of　several　feet；　and　recovered　some　of　her　old　dignity。　　The　contract　pleted；　she　raised　between　them　a　barrier　impenetrable　as　a　wall。　
“There；　‘tis　all　gone；　and　I　didn’t　mean　quite　all；”　he　said；　with　a　sigh。　
“You　had　good　measure；”　said　she；　turning　away。　
“Yes；　miss。　　Well；　‘tis　over；　and　now　I’ll　get　home…along。”


5　… Through　the　Moonlight


The　next　evening　the　mummers　were　assembled　in　the　same　spot；　awaiting　the　entrance　of　the　Turkish　Knight。　
“Twenty　minutes　after　eight　by　the　Quiet　Woman；　and　Charley　not　e。”
“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　any　moment　was　a　number　of　varying　doctrines　professed　by　the　different　hamlets；　some　of　them　having　originally　grown　up　from　a　mon　root；　and　then　bee　divided　by　secession；　some　having　been　alien　from　the　beginning。　　West　Egdon　believed　in　Blooms…End　time；　East　Egdon　in　the　time　of　the　Quiet　Woman　Inn。　　Grandfer　Cantle’s　watch　had　numbered　many　followers　in　years　gone　by；　but　since　he　had　grown　older　faiths　were　shaken。　　Thus；　the　mummers　having　gathered　hither　from　scattered　points　each　came　with　his　own　tenets　on　early　and　late；　and　they　waited　a　little　longer　as　a　promise。
Eustacia　had　watched　the　assemblage　through　the　hole；　and　seeing　that　now　was　the　proper　moment　to　enter；　she　went　from　the　“linhay”　and　boldly　pulled　the　bobbin　of　the　fuelhouse　door。　　Her　grandfather　was　safe　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；　e　to　take　Charley’s　place　from　curiosity。　　He　was　obliged　to　go　and　look　for　the　heath…croppers　that　have　got　into　the　meads；　and　I　agreed　to　take　his　place；　as　he　knew　he　couldn’t　e　back　here　again　tonight。　　I　know　the　part　as　well　as　he。”
Her　graceful　gait；　elegant　figure；　and　dignified　manner　in　general　won　the　mummers　to　the　opinion　that　they　had　gained　by　the　exchange；　if　the　newer　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　than　Charley’s。
“I　know　every　word　of　it；　I　tell　you；”　said　Eustacia　decisively。　　Dash　being　all　that　was　required　to　carry　her　triumphantly　through；　she　adopted　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　were　delighted　with　the　new　knight。　　They　extinguished　the　candles　at　half…past　eight；　and　set　out　upon　the　heath　in　the　direction　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　house　at　Bloom’s…End。
There　was　a　slight　hoarfrost　that　night；　and　the　moon；　though　not　more　than　half　full；　threw　a　spirited　and　enticing　brightness　upon　the　fantastic　figures　of　the　mumming　band；　whose　plumes　and　ribbons　rustled　in　their　walk　like　autumn　leaves。　　Their　path　was　not　over　Rainbarrow　now；　but　down　a　valley　which　left　that　ancient　elevation　a　little　to　the　east。　　The　bottom　of　the　vale　was　green　to　a　width　of　ten　yards　or　thereabouts；　and　the　shining　facets　of　frost　upon　the　blades　of　grass　seemed　to　move　on　with　the　shadows　of　those　they　surrounded。　　The　masses　of　furze　and　heath　to　the　right　and　left　were　dark　as　ever；　a　mere　half…moon　was　powerless　to　silver　such　sable　features　as　theirs。
Half…an…hour　of　walking　and　talking　brought　them　to　the　spot　in　the　valley　where　the　grass　riband　widened　and　led　down　to　the　front　of　the　house。　　At　sight　of　the　place　Eustacia　who　had　felt　a　few　passing　doubts　during　her　walk　with　the　youths；　again　was　glad　that　the　adventure　had　been　undertaken。　　She　had　e　out　to　see　a　man　who　might　possibly　have　the　power　to　deliver　her　soul　from　a　most　deadly　oppression。　　What　was　Wildeve？　　Interesting；　but　inadequate。
Perhaps　she　would　see　a　sufficient　hero　tonight。　
As　they　drew　nearer　to　the　front　of　the　house　the　mummers　became　aware　that　music　and　dancing　were　briskly　flourishing　within。　　Every　now　and　then　a　long　low　note　from　the　serpent；　which　was　the　chief　wind　instrument　played　at　these　times；　advanced　further　into　the　heath　than　the　thin　treble　part；　and　reached　their　ears　alone；　and　next　a　more　than　usual　loud　tread　from　a　dancer　would　e　the　same　way。　　With　nearer　approach　these　fragmentary　sounds　became　pieced　together；　and　were　found　to　be　the　salient　points　of　the　tune　called　“Nancy’s　Fancy。”
He　was　there；　of　course。　　Who　was　she　that　he　danced　with？　　Perhaps　some　unknown　woman；　far　beneath　herself　in　culture；　was　by　the　most　subtle　of　lures　sealing　his　fate　this　very　instant。　　To　dance　with　a　man　is　to　concentrate　a　twelvemonth’s　regulation　fire　upon　him　in　the　fragment　of　an　hour。　　To　pass　to　courtship　without　acquaintance；　to　pass　to　marriage　without　courtship；　is　a　skipping　of　terms　reserved　for　those　alone　who　tread　this　royal　road。　　She　would　see　how　his　heart　lay　by　keen　observation　of　them　all。　
The　enterprising　lady　followed　the　mumming　pany　through　the　gate　in　the　white　paling；　and　stood　before　the　open　porch。　　The　house　was　encrusted　with　heavy　thatchings；　which　dropped　between　the　upper　windows；　the　front；　upon　which　the　moonbeams　directly　played；　had　originally　been　white；　but　a　huge　pyracanth　now　darkened　the　greater　portion。　
It　became　at　once　evident　that　the　dance　was　proceeding　immediately　within　the　surface　of　the　door；　no　apartment　intervening。　　The　brushing　of　skirts　and　elbows；　sometimes　the　bumping　of　shoulders；　could　be　heard　against　the　very　panels。　　Eustacia；　though　living　within　two　miles　of　the　place；　had　never　seen　the　interior　of　this　quaint　old　habitation。　　Between　Captain　Vye　and　the　Yeobrights　there　had　never　existed　much　acquaintance；　the　former　having　e　as　a　stranger　and　purchased　the　long…empty　house　at　Mistover　Knap　not　long　before　the　death　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　husband；　and　with　that　event　and　the　departure　of　her　son　such　friendship　as　had　grown　up　became　quite　broken　off。　
“Is　there　no　passage　inside　the　door；　then？”　asked　Eustacia　as　they　stood　within　the　porch。　
“No；”　said　the　lad　who　played　the　Saracen。　　“The　door　opens　right　upon　the　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　always　bolt　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　the　instruments　ended　the　tune；　again　they　remenced　with　as　much　fire　and　pathos　as　if　it　were　the　first　strain。　　The　air　was　now　that　one　without　any　particular　beginning；　middle；　or　end；　which　perhaps；　among　all　the　dances　which　throng　an　inspired　fiddler’s　fancy；　best　conveys　the　idea　of　the　interminable—the　celebrated　“Devil’s　Dream。”　　The　fury　of　personal　movement　that　was　kindled　by　the　fury　of　the　notes　could　be　approximately　imagined　by　these　outsiders　under　the　moon；　from　the　occasional　kicks　of　toes　and　heels　against　the　door；　whenever　the　whirl　round　had　been　of　more　than　customary　velocity。　
The　first　five　minutes　of　listening　was　interesting　enough　to　the　mummers。　　The　five　minutes　exten