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nfires and came in。”
“Perhaps this is not the only time you have dogged my steps。
Are you trying to find out something bad about me？”
“Not at all！ I have never done such a thing before； and I shouldn’t have done it now if words had not sometimes been dropped about you。”
“What DO you mean？” he impatiently asked。
“They say—they say you used to go to Alderworth in
the evenings； and it puts into my mind what I have heard about—“
Wildeve turned angrily and stood up in front of her。 “Now；” he said； flourishing his hand in the air； “just out with it； madam！ I demand to know what remarks you have heard。”
“Well； I heard that you used to be very fond of Eustacia—nothing more than that； though dropped in a bit…by…bit way。 You ought not to be angry！”
He observed that her eyes were brimming with tears。 “Well；” he said； “there is nothing new in that； and of course I don’t mean to be rough towards you； so you need not cry。 Now； don’t let us speak of the subject any more。”
And no more was said； Thomasin being glad enough of a reason for not mentioning Clym’s visit to her that evening； and his story。
7 … The Night of the Sixth of November
Having resolved on flight Eustacia at times seemed anxious that something should happen to thwart her own intention。 The only event that could really change her position was the appearance of Clym。 The glory which had encircled him as her lover was departed now； yet some good simple quality of his would occasionally return to her memory and stir a momentary throb of hope that he would again present himself before her。 But calmly considered it was not likely that such a severance as now existed would ever close up—she would have to live on as a painful object； isolated； and out of place。 She had used to think of the heath alone as an uncongenial spot to be in； she felt it now of the whole world。
Towards evening on the sixth her determination to go away again revived。 About four o’clock she packed up anew the few small articles she had brought in her flight from Alderworth； and also some belonging to her which had been left here； the whole formed a bundle not too large to be carried in her hand for a distance of a mile or two。 The scene without grew darker； mud…coloured clouds bellied downwards from the sky like vast hammocks slung across it； and with the increase of night a stormy wind arose； but as yet there was no rain。
Eustacia could not rest indoors； having nothing more to do； and she wandered to and fro on the hill； not far from the house she was soon to leave。 In these desultory ramblings she passed the cottage of Susan Nunsuch； a little lower down than her grandfather’s。 The door was ajar； and a riband of bright firelight fell over the ground without。 As Eustacia crossed the firebeams she appeared for an instant as distinct as a figure in a phantasmagoria—a creature of light surrounded by an area of darkness； the moment passed； and she was absorbed in night again。
A woman who was sitting inside the cottage had seen and recognized her in that momentary irradiation。 This was Susan herself； occupied in preparing a posset for her little boy； who； often ailing； was now seriously unwell。 Susan dropped the spoon； shook her fist at the vanished figure； and then proceeded with her work in a musing； absent way。
At eight o’clock； the hour at which Eustacia had promised to signal Wildeve if ever she signalled at all； she looked around the premises to learn if the coast was clear； went to the furze…rick； and pulled thence a long…stemmed bough of that fuel。 This she carried to the corner of the bank； and； glancing behind to see if the shutters were all closed； she struck a light； and kindled the furze。 When it was thoroughly ablaze Eustacia took it by the stem and waved it in the air above her head till it had burned itself out。
She was gratified； if gratification were possible to such a mood； by seeing a similar light in the vicinity of Wildeve’s residence a minute or two later。 Having agreed to keep watch at this hour every night； in case she should require assistance； this promptness proved how strictly he had held to his word。 Four hours after the present time； that is； at midnight； he was to be ready to drive her to Budmouth； as prearranged。
Eustacia returned to the house。 Supper having been got over she retired early； and sat in her bedroom waiting for the time to go by。 The night being dark and threatening； Captain Vye had not strolled out to gossip in any cottage or to call at the inn； as was sometimes his custom on these long autumn nights； and he sat sipping grog alone downstairs。 About ten o’clock there was a knock at the door。 When the servant opened it the rays of the candle fell upon the form of Fairway。
“I was a…forced to go to Lower Mistover tonight；” he said； “and Mr。 Yeobright asked me to leave this here on my way； but； faith； I put it in the lining of my hat； and thought no more about it till I got back and was hasping my gate before going to bed。 So I have run back with it at once。”
He handed in a letter and went his way。 The girl brought it to the captain； who found that it was directed to Eustacia。 He turned it over and over； and fancied that the writing was her husband’s； though he could not be sure。 However； he decided to let her have it at once if possible； and took it upstairs for that purpose； but on reaching the door of her room and looking in at the keyhole he found there was no light within； the fact being that Eustacia； without undressing； had flung herself upon the bed； to rest and gather a little strength for her ing journey。 Her grandfather concluded from what he saw that he ought not to disturb her； and descending again to the parlour he placed the letter on the mantelpiece to give it to her in the morning。
At eleven o’clock he went to bed himself； smoked for some time in his bedroom； put out his light at half…past eleven； and then； as was his invariable custom； pulled up the blind before getting into bed； that he might see which way the wind blew on opening his eyes in the morning； his bedroom window manding a view of the flagstaff and vane。 Just as he had lain down he was surprised to observe the white pole of the staff flash into existence like a streak of phosphorus drawn downwards across the shade of night without。 Only one explanation met this—a light had been suddenly thrown upon the pole from the direction of the house。 As everybody had retired to rest the old man felt it necessary to get out of bed； open the window softly； and look to the right and left。 Eustacia’s bedroom was lighted up； and it was the shine from her window which had lighted the pole。 Wondering what had aroused her； he remained undecided at the window； and was thinking of fetching the letter to slip it under her door； when he heard a slight brushing of garments on the partition dividing his room from the passage。
The captain concluded that Eustacia； feeling wakeful； had gone for a book； and would have dismissed the matter as unimportant if he had not also heard her distinctly weeping as she passed。
“She is thinking of that husband of hers；” he said to himself。
“Ah； the silly goose！ she had no business to marry him。
I wonder if that letter is really his？”
He arose； threw his boat…cloak round him； opened the door； and said； “Eustacia！” There was no answer。 “Eustacia！” he repeated louder； “there is a letter on the mantelpiece for you。”
But no response was made to this statement save an imaginary one from the wind； which seemed to gnaw at the corners of the house； and the stroke of a few drops of rain upon the windows。
He went on to the landing； and stood waiting nearly five minutes。 Still she did not return。 He went back for a light； and prepared to follow her； but first he looked into her bedroom。 There； on the outside of the quilt； was the impression of her form； showing that the bed had not been opened； and； what was more significant； she had not taken her candlestick downstairs。 He was now thoroughly alarmed； and hastily putting on his clothes he descended to the front door； which he himself had bolted and locked。 It was now unfastened。 There was no longer any doubt that Eustacia had left the house at this midnight hour； and whither could she have gone？ To follow her was almost impossible。 Had the dwelling stood in an ordinary road； two persons setting out； one in each direction； might have made sure of overtaking her； but it was a hopeless task to seek for anybody on a heath in the dark； the practicable directions for flight across it from any point being as numerous as the meridians radiating from the pole。 Perplexed what to do； he looked into the parlour； and was vexed to find that the letter still lay there untouched。
At half…past eleven； finding that the house was silent； Eustacia had lighted her candle； put on some warm outer wrappings； taken her bag in her hand； and； extinguishing the light again； descended the staircase。 When she got into the outer air she found that it had begun to rain； and as she stood pausing at the door it increased； threatening to e on heavily。 But having mitted herself to this line of action there was no retreating for bad weather。 Even the receipt of Clym’s letter would not have stopped her now。 The gloom of the night was funereal； all nature seemed clothed in crape。 The spiky points of the fir trees behind the house rose into the sky like the turrets and pinnacles of an abbey。 Nothing below the horizon was visible save a light which was still burning in the cottage of Susan Nunsuch。
Eustacia opened her umbrella and went out from the enclosure by the steps over the bank； after which she was beyond all danger of being perceived。 Skirting the pool； she followed the path towards Rainbarrow； occasionally stumbling over twisted furze roots； tufts of rushes； or oozing lumps of fleshy fungi； which at this season lay scattered about the heath like the rotten liver and lungs of some colossal animal。 The moon and stars were closed up by cloud and rain to the degree of extinction。 It was a night which led the traveller’s thoughts instinctively to dwell on nocturnal scenes of disaster in the chronicles of the world； on all that is terrible and dark in history and legend—the last plague of Egypt； the destruction of Sennacherib’s host； the agony in Gethsemane。
Eustacia at length reached Rainbarrow； and stood still there to think。 Never was harmony more perfect than that between the chaos of her mind and the chaos of the world without。 A sudden recollection had flashed on her this moment—she had not money enough for undertaking a long journey。 Amid the fluctuating sentiments of the day her unpractical mind had not dwelt on the necessity of being well…provided； and now that she thoroughly realized the conditions she sighed bitterly and ceased to stand erect； gradually crouching down under the umbrella as if she were drawn into the Barrow by a hand from beneath。 Could it be that she was to remain a captive still？ Money—she had never felt its value before。 Even to efface herself from the country means were required。 To ask Wildeve for pecuniary aid without allowing him to acpany her was impossible to a woman with a shadow of pride left in her； to fly as his mistress—and she knew that he loved her—was of the nature of humiliation。
Anyone who had stood by now would have pitied her； not so much on account of her exposure to weather； and isolation from all of humanity except the mouldered remains inside the tumulus； but for that other form of misery which was denoted by the slightly rocking movement that her feelings imparted to her person。 Extreme unhappiness weighed visibly upon her。 Between the drippings of the rain from her umbrella to her mantle； from her mantle to the heather； from the heather to the earth； very similar sounds could be heard ing from her lips； and the tearfulness of the outer scene was repeated upon her face。 The wings of her soul were broken by the cruel obstructiveness of all about her； and even had she seen herself in a promising way of getting to Budmouth； entering a steamer； and sailing to some opposite port； she would have been but little more buoyant； so fearfully malignant were other things。 She uttered words aloud。 When a woman in such a situation； neither old； deaf； crazed； nor whimsical； takes upon herself to sob and soliloquize aloud there is something grievous the matter。
“Can I go； can I go？” she moaned。 “He’s not GREAT enough for me to give myself to—he does not suffice for my desire！。。。If he had been a Saul or a Bonaparte— ah！ But to break my marriage vow for him—it is too poor a luxury！。。。And I have no money to go alone！ And if I could； what fort to me？ I must drag on next year； as I have dragged on this year； and the year after that as before。 How I have tried and tried to be a splendid woman； and how destiny has been against me！。。。I do not deserve my lot！” she cried in a frenzy of bitter revolt。 “O； the cruelty of putting me into this ill…conceived world！ I was capable of much； but I have been injured and blighted and crushed by things beyond my control！ O； how hard it is of Heaven to devise such tortures for me； who have done no harm to Heaven at all！”
The distant light which Eustacia