还乡The Return Of The Native-第14部分

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　raised　a　fitful　glow　which　came　and　went　like　the　blush　of　a　girl。　　She　stooped　over　the　silent　circle；　and　selecting　from　the　brands　a　piece　of　stick　which　bore　the　largest　live　coal　at　its　end；　brought　it　to　where　she　had　been　standing　before。
She　held　the　brand　to　the　ground；　blowing　the　red　coal　with　her　mouth　at　the　same　time；　till　it　faintly　illuminated　the　sod；　and　revealed　a　small　object；　which　turned　out　to　be　an　hourglass；　though　she　wore　a　watch。　　She　blew　long　enough　to　show　that　the　sand　had　all　slipped　through。
“Ah！”　she　said；　as　if　surprised。
The　light　raised　by　her　breath　had　been　very　fitful；　and　a　momentary　irradiation　of　flesh　was　all　that　it　had　disclosed　of　her　face。　　That　consisted　of　two　matchless　lips　and　a　cheek　only；　her　head　being　still　enveloped。　　She　threw　away　the　stick；　took　the　glass　in　her　hand；　the　telescope　under　her　arm；　and　moved　on。
Along　the　ridge　ran　a　faint　foot…track；　which　the　lady　followed。　　Those　who　knew　it　well　called　it　a　path；　and；　while　a　mere　visitor　would　have　passed　it　unnoticed　even　by　day；　the　regular　haunters　of　the　heath　were　at　no　loss　for　it　at　midnight。　　The　whole　secret　of　following　these　incipient　paths；　when　there　was　not　light　enough　in　the　atmosphere　to　show　a　turnpike　road；　lay　in　the　development　of　the　sense　of　touch　in　the　feet；　which　es　with　years　of　night…rambling　in　little…trodden　spots。　　To　a　walker　practised　in　such　places　a　difference　between　impact　on　maiden　herbage；　and　on　the　crippled　stalks　of　a　slight　footway；　is　perceptible　through　the　thickest　boot　or　shoe。　
The　solitary　figure　who　walked　this　beat　took　no　notice　of　the　windy　tune　still　played　on　the　dead　heathbells。　　She　did　not　turn　her　head　to　look　at　a　group　of　dark　creatures　further　on；　who　fled　from　her　presence　as　she　skirted　a　ravine　where　they　fed。　　They　were　about　a　score　of　the　small　wild　ponies　known　as　heath…croppers。　They　roamed　at　large　on　the　undulations　of　Egdon；　but　in　numbers　too　few　to　detract　much　from　the　solitude。　
The　pedestrian　noticed　nothing　just　now；　and　a　clue　to　her　abstraction　was　afforded　by　a　trivial　incident。　　A　bramble　caught　hold　of　her　skirt；　and　checked　her　progress。　　Instead　of　putting　it　off　and　hastening　along；　she　yielded　herself　up　to　the　pull；　and　stood　passively　still。　　When　she　began　to　extricate　herself　it　was　by　turning　round　and　round；　and　so　unwinding　the　prickly　switch。　　She　was　in　a　desponding　reverie。　
Her　course　was　in　the　direction　of　the　small　undying　fire　which　had　drawn　the　attention　of　the　men　on　Rainbarrow　and　of　Wildeve　in　the　valley　below。　　A　faint　illumination　from　its　rays　began　to　glow　upon　her　face；　and　the　fire　soon　revealed　itself　to　be　lit；　not　on　the　level　ground；　but　on　a　salient　corner　or　redan　of　earth；　at　the　junction　of　two　converging　bank　fences。　　Outside　was　a　ditch；　dry　except　immediately　under　the　fire；　where　there　was　a　large　pool；　bearded　all　round　by　heather　and　rushes。　　In　the　smooth　water　of　the　pool　the　fire　appeared　upside　down。　
The　banks　meeting　behind　were　bare　of　a　hedge；　save　such　as　was　formed　by　disconnected　tufts　of　furze；　standing　upon　stems　along　the　top；　like　impaled　heads　above　a　city　wall。　　A　white　mast；　fitted　up　with　spars　and　other　nautical　tackle；　could　be　seen　rising　against　the　dark　clouds　whenever　the　flames　played　brightly　enough　to　reach　it。　　Altogether　the　scene　had　much　the　appearance　of　a　fortification　upon　which　had　been　kindled　a　beacon　fire。　
Nobody　was　visible；　but　ever　and　anon　a　whitish　something　moved　above　the　bank　from　behind；　and　vanished　again。　　This　was　a　small　human　hand；　in　the　act　of　lifting　pieces　of　fuel　into　the　fire；　but　for　all　that　could　be　seen　the　hand；　like　that　which　troubled　Belshazzar；　was　there　alone。　　Occasionally　an　ember　rolled　off　the　bank；　and　dropped　with　a　hiss　into　the　pool。　
At　one　side　of　the　pool　rough　steps　built　of　clods　enabled　everyone　who　wished　to　do　so　to　mount　the　bank；　which　the　woman　did。　　Within　was　a　paddock　in　an　uncultivated　state；　though　bearing　evidence　of　having　once　been　tilled；　but　the　heath　and　fern　had　insidiously　crept　in；　and　were　reasserting　their　old　supremacy。　　Further　ahead　were　dimly　visible　an　irregular　dwelling…house；　garden；　and　outbuildings；　backed　by　a　clump　of　firs。
The　young　lady—for　youth　had　revealed　its　presence　in　her　buoyant　bound　up　the　bank—walked　along　the　top　instead　of　descending　inside；　and　came　to　the　corner　where　the　fire　was　burning。　　One　reason　for　the　permanence　of　the　blaze　was　now　manifest：　the　fuel　consisted　of　hard　pieces　of　wood；　cleft　and　sawn—the　knotty　boles　of　old　thorn　trees　which　grew　in　twos　and　threes　about　the　hillsides。　　A　yet　unconsumed　pile　of　these　lay　in　the　inner　angle　of　the　bank；　and　from　this　corner　the　upturned　face　of　a　little　boy　greeted　her　eves。　　He　was　dilatorily　throwing　up　a　piece　of　wood　into　the　fire　every　now　and　then；　a　business　which　seemed　to　have　engaged　him　a　considerable　part　of　the　evening；　for　his　face　was　somewhat　weary。　
“I　am　glad　you　have　e；　Miss　Eustacia；”　he　said；　with　a　sigh　of　relief。　　“I　don’t　like　biding　by　myself。”
“Nonsense。　I　have　only　been　a　little　way　for　a　walk。　
I　have　been　gone　only　twenty　minutes。”
“It　seemed　long；”　murmured　the　sad　boy。　　“And　you　have　been　so　many　times。”
“Why；　I　thought　you　would　be　pleased　to　have　a　bonfire。　
Are　you　not　much　obliged　to　me　for　making　you　one？”
“Yes；　but　there’s　nobody　here　to　play　wi’　me。”
“I　suppose　nobody　has　e　while　I’ve　been　away？”
“Nobody　except　your　grandfather—he　looked　out　of　doors　once　for　‘ee。　I　told　him　you　were　walking　round　upon　the　hill　to　look　at　the　other　bonfires。”
“A　good　boy。”
“I　think　I　hear　him　ing　again；　miss。”
An　old　man　came　into　the　remoter　light　of　the　fire　from　the　direction　of　the　homestead。　　He　was　the　same　who　had　overtaken　the　reddleman　on　the　road　that　afternoon。　　He　looked　wistfully　to　the　top　of　the　bank　at　the　woman　who　stood　there；　and　his　teeth；　which　were　quite　unimpaired；　showed　like　parian　from　his　parted　lips。　
“When　are　you　ing　indoors；　Eustacia？”　he　asked。　　“’Tis　almost　bedtime。　　I’ve　been　home　these　two　hours；　and　am　tired　out。　　Surely　‘tis　somewhat　childish　of　you　to　stay　out　playing　at　bonfires　so　long；　and　wasting　such　fuel。　　My　precious　thorn　roots；　the　rarest　of　all　firing；　that　I　laid　by　on　purpose　for　Christmas—you　have　burnt　‘em　nearly　all！”
“I　promised　Johnny　a　bonfire；　and　it　pleases　him　not　to　let　it　go　out　just　yet；”　said　Eustacia；　in　a　way　which　told　at　once　that　she　was　absolute　queen　here。　　“Grandfather；　you　go　in　to　bed。　　I　shall　follow　you　soon。　
You　like　the　fire；　don’t　you；　Johnny？”
The　boy　looked　up　doubtfully　at　her　and　murmured；　“I　don’t　think　I　want　it　any　longer。”
Her　grandfather　had　turned　back　again；　and　did　not　hear　the　boy’s　reply。　　As　soon　as　the　white…haired　man　had　vanished　she　said　in　a　tone　of　pique　to　the　child；　“Ungrateful　little　boy；　how　can　you　contradict　me？　　Never　shall　you　have　a　bonfire　again　unless　you　keep　it　up　now。　　e；　tell　me　you　like　to　do　things　for　me；　and　don’t　deny　it。”
The　repressed　child　said；　“Yes；　I　do；　miss；”　and　continued　to　stir　the　fire　perfunctorily。　
“Stay　a　little　longer　and　I　will　give　you　a　crooked　six…pence；”　said　Eustacia；　more　gently。　　“Put　in　one　piece　of　wood　every　two　or　three　minutes；　but　not　too　much　at　once。　　I　am　going　to　walk　along　the　ridge　a　little　longer；　but　I　shall　keep　on　ing　to　you。　　And　if　you　hear　a　frog　jump　into　the　pond　with　a　flounce　like　a　stone　thrown　in；　be　sure　you　run　and　tell　me；　because　it　is　a　sign　of　rain。”
“Yes；　Eustacia。”
“Miss　Vye；　sir。”
“Miss　Vy—stacia。”
“That　will　do。　　Now　put　in　one　stick　more。”
The　little　slave　went　on　feeding　the　fire　as　before。　　He　seemed　a　mere　automaton；　galvanized　into　moving　and　speaking　by　the　wayward　Eustacia’s　will。　　He　might　have　been　the　brass　statue　which　Albertus　Magnus　is　said　to　have　animated　just　so　far　as　to　make　it　chatter；　and　move；　and　be　his　servant。　
Before　going　on　her　walk　again　the　young　girl　stood　still　on　the　bank　for　a　few　instants　and　listened。　　It　was　to　the　full　as　lonely　a　place　as　Rainbarrow；　though　at　rather　a　lower　level；　and　it　was　more　sheltered　from　wind　and　weather　on　account　of　the　few　firs　to　the　north。