text3.txt

the condition more dire.
" You are nothing to me  --  nothing,' said Troy,
heartlessly. 'A ceremony before a priest doesn't make
a marriage. I am not morally yours.'
A vehement impulse to flee from him, to run from
this place, hide, and escape his words at any price, not
stopping short of death itself, mastered Bathsheba now.
She waited not an instant, but turned to the door and
ran out.
<C xliv>
<P 362>
UNDER A TREE -- REACTION
BATHSHEBA went along the dark road, neither know'
ing nor caring about the direction or issue of her flight.
The first time that she definitely noticed her position
was when she reached a gate leading into a thicket over+
hung by some large oak and beech trees. On looking
into the place, it occurred to her that she had seen it
by daylight on some previous occasion, and that what
appeared like an impassable thicket was in reality a
brake of fern now withering fast. She could think of
nothing better to do with her palpitating self than to go
in here and hide; and entering, she lighted on a spot
sheltered from the damp fog hy a reclining trunk, where
she sank down upon a tangled couch of fronds and
stems. She mechanically pulled some armfuls round
her to keep off the breezes, and closed her eyes.
Whether she slept or not that night Bathsheba was
not clearly aware. But it was with a freshened exist+
ence and a cooler brain that, a long time afterwards, she
became conscious of some interesting proceedings which
were going on in the trees above her head and around.
A coarse-throated chatter was the first sound.
It was a sparrow just waking.
Next : ' Chee-weeze-weeze-weeze .! ' from another
retreat.
It was a finch.
Third : ' Tink-tink-tink-tink-a-chink ! ' from the hedge,
It was a robin.
' Chuck-chuck-chuck !. ' overhead.
A squirrel.
Then, from the road, 'With my ra-ta-ta, and my
rum-tum-tum ! '
It was a ploughboy. Presently he came opposite,
and she believed from his voice that he was one of
the boys on her own farm. He was followed by a
shambling tramp of heavy feet, and
<P 363>
looking through
the ferns Bathsheba could just discern in the wan light
of daybreak a team of her own horses. They stopped
to drink at a pond on the other side of the way'. She
watched them flouncing into the pool, drinking, tossing
up their heads, drinking again, the water dribbling
from their lips in silver threads. There was another
flounce, and they came out of the pond, and turned
back again towards the farm.
She looked further around. Day was just dawning,
and beside its cool air and colours her heated actions
and resolves of the night stood out in lurid contrast.
She perceived that in her lap, and clinging to her
hair, were red and yellow leaves which had come
down from the tree and settled silently upon her
during her partial sleep. Bathsheba shook her dress to
get rid of them, when multitudes of the same family lying
round about her rose and fiuttered away in the breeze
thus created, 'like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing.'
There was an opening towards the east, and the
glow from the as yet unrisen sun attracted her eyes
thither. From her feet, and between the beautiful
yellowing ferns with their feathery arms, the ground
sloped downwards to a hollow, in which was a species
of swamp, dotted with fungi. A morning mist hung
over it now -- a fulsome yet magnificent silvery veil,
full of light from the sun, yet semi-opaque -- the hedge
behind it being in some measure hidden by its hazy
luminousness. Up the sides of this depression grew
sheaves of the common rush, and here and there a
peculiar species of flag, the blades of which glistened
in the enaerging sun, like scythes. But the general
aspect of the swamp was malignant. From its moist
and poisonous coat seemed to be exhaled the essences
of evil things in the earth, and in the waters under
the earth. The fungi grew in all manner of positions
from rotting leaves and tree stumps, some exhibiting
to her listless gaze their clammy tops, others their
oozing gills. Some were marked with great splotches,
red as arterial blood, others were saffron yellow, and
others tall and attenuated, with stems like macaroni.
Some were leathery and of richest browns. The
hollow seemed a nursery of pestilences small and
great, in the immediate neighbourhood of comfort
and health, and Bathsheba arose with a tremor at the
thought of having
<P 364>
passed the night on the brink of
so dismal a place.
'l'here were now other footsteps to be heard along
the road. Bathsheba's nerves were still unstrung :
she crouchcd down out of sight again, and the pedes+
trian came into view. He was a schoolboy, with a
bag slung over his shoulder containing his dinner,
and a hook in his hand. He paused by the gate,
and, without looking up, continued murmuring words
in tones quite loud enough to reach her ears.
'''O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, O Lord'': --
that I know out o' book. ''Give us, give us, give us,
give us, give us '' : -- that I know. ''Grace that, grace that,
grace that, grace that '' : -- that I know.' Other words
followed to the same effect. The boy was of the
dunce class apparently; the book was a psalter, and
this was his way of learning the collect. In the worst
attacks of trouble there appears to be always a super+
ficial film of consciousness which is left disengaged
and open to the notice of trifles, and Bathsheba was
faintly amused at the boy's method, till he too passed on.
By this time stupor had given place to anxiety, and
anxiety began to make room for hunger and thirst.
A form now appeared upon the rise on the other side
of the swamp, half-hidden by the mist, and came
towards Bathsheba. The woman -- for it was a woman
 -- approached with her face askance, as if looking
earnestly on all sides of her. When she got a little
further round to the left, and drew nearer, Bathsheba
could see the newcomer's profile ngainst the sunny
sky', and knew the wavy sweep from forehead to chin,
with neither angle nor decisive line anywhere about
it, to be the familiar contour of Liddy Smallbury.
Bathsheba's heart bounded with gratitude in the
thought that she was not altogether deserted, and she
jumped up. ' O, Liddy .! ' she said, or attempted to say;
but the words had only been framed hy her lips; there
came no sound. She had lost her voice by exposure
to the clogged atmosphere all these hours of night.
'O, ma'am.! I am so glad I have found you,' said
the girl, as soon as she saw Bathsheba.
' You can't come across,' Bathsheba said in a whisper,
wihich she
<P 365>
vainly endeavoured to make loud enough to
reach Liddy's ears. Liddy, not knowing this, stepped
down upon the swamp, saying, as she did so, 'It will
bear me up, I think.'
Bathsheba never forgot that transient little picture
of Liddy crossing the swamp to her there in the
morning light. Iridescent bubbles of dank subter+
ranean breath rose from the sweating sod beside the
waiting maid's feet as she trod, hissing as they burst
and expanded away to join the vapoury firmament above.
Liddy did not sink, as Bathsheba had anticipated.
She landed safely on the other side, and looked up
at the beautiful though pale and weary face of her
young mistress.
'Poor thing ! ' said Liddy, with tears in her eyes,
Do hearten yourself up a little, ma'am. However
did --  -- '
'I can't speak above a whisper -- my voice is gone
for the present,' said Bathsheba, hurriedly. ' I suppose
the damp air from that hollow has taken it away
Liddy, don't question me, mind. Who sent you --
anybody ? '
' Nobody. I thought, when I found you were not
at home, that something cruel had happened. I fancy
I heard his voice late last night; and so, knowing
something was wrong --  -- '
'Is he at home?'
'No ; he left just before I came out.'
'Is Fanny taken away ? '
' Not yet. She will soon be -- at nine o'clock.'
'we won't go home at present, then. Suppose we
walk about in this wood ?'
Liddy, without exactly understanding everything, or
anything, in this episode, assented, and they walked
together further among the trees.
'But you had better come in, ma'am, and have
something to eat. You will die of a chill! '
'I shall not come indoors yet -- perhaps never.'
'Shall I get you something to eat, and something
else to put over your head besides that little shawl?'
'If you will, Liddy.'
Liddy vanished, and at the end of twenty minutes
returned with a cloak, hat, some slices of bread and
butter, a tea-cup, and some hot tea in a little china jug
<P 366>
"Is Fanny gone ? ' said Bathsheba.
' No,' said her companion, pouring out the tea.
Bathsheba wrapped herself up and ate and drank
sparingly. Her voice was then a little clearer, and
trifling colour returned to her face. 'Now we'll walk
about again,' she said.
They wandered about the wood for nearly two
REACTION
hours, Bathsheba replying in monosyllables to Liddy's
prattle, for her mind ran on one subject, and one only.
She interrupted with --
'l wonder if Fanny is gone by this time ? '
'I will go and see.'
She came back with the information that the
men were just taking away the corpse; that Bathsheba
had been inquired for; that she had replied to the
effect that her mistress was unwell and could not be
seen.