还乡The Return Of The Native-第87部分

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ng　of　taking　her　life；　but　bound　him　to　secrecy；　and　promised　never　to　think　of　such　a　thing　again。　　I　hardly　suppose　she　will　ever　have　bravado　enough　to　use　one　of　them；　but　it　shows　what　has　been　lurking　in　her　mind；　and　people　who　think　of　that　sort　of　thing　once　think　of　it　again。”
“Where　are　the　pistols？”
“Safely　locked　up。　　O　no；　she　won’t　touch　them　again。　　But　there　are　more　ways　of　letting　out　life　than　through　a　bullet…hole。　What　did　you　quarrel　about　so　bitterly　with　her　to　drive　her　to　all　this？　　You　must　have　treated　her　badly　indeed。　　Well；　I　was　always　against　the　marriage；　and　I　was　right。”
“Are　you　going　with　me？”　said　Yeobright；　paying　no　attention　to　the　captain’s　latter　remark。　　“If　so　I　can　tell　you　what　we　quarrelled　about　as　we　walk　along。”
“Where　to？”
“To　Wildeve’s—that　was　her　destination；　depend　upon　it。”
Thomasin　here　broke　in；　still　weeping：　“He　said　he　was　only　going　on　a　sudden　short　journey；　but　if　so　why　did　he　want　so　much　money？　　O；　Clym；　what　do　you　think　will　happen？　　I　am　afraid　that　you；　my　poor　baby；　will　soon　have　no　father　left　to　you！”
“I　am　off　now；”　said　Yeobright；　stepping　into　the　porch。
“I　would　fain　go　with　‘ee；”　said　the　old　man　doubtfully。　　“But　I　begin　to　be　afraid　that　my　legs　will　hardly　carry　me　there　such　a　night　as　this。　　I　am　not　so　young　as　I　was。　　If　they　are　interrupted　in　their　flight　she　will　be　sure　to　e　back　to　me；　and　I　ought　to　be　at　the　house　to　receive　her。　　But　be　it　as　‘twill　I　can’t　walk　to　the　Quiet　Woman；　and　that’s　an　end　on’t。　I’ll　go　straight　home。”
“It　will　perhaps　be　best；”　said　Clym。　　“Thomasin；　dry　yourself；　and　be　as　fortable　as　you　can。”
With　this　he　closed　the　door　upon　her；　and　left　the　house　in　pany　with　Captain　Vye；　who　parted　from　him　outside　the　gate；　taking　the　middle　path；　which　led　to　Mistover。　　Clym　crossed　by　the　right…hand　track　towards　the　inn。　
Thomasin；　being　left　alone；　took　off　some　of　her　wet　garments；　carried　the　baby　upstairs　to　Clym’s　bed；　and　then　came　down　to　the　sitting…room　again；　where　she　made　a　larger　fire；　and　began　drying　herself。　　The　fire　soon　flared　up　the　chimney；　giving　the　room　an　appearance　of　fort　that　was　doubled　by　contrast　with　the　drumming　of　the　storm　without；　which　snapped　at　the　windowpanes　and　breathed　into　the　chimney　strange　low　utterances　that　seemed　to　be　the　prologue　to　some　tragedy。　
But　the　least　part　of　Thomasin　was　in　the　house；　for　her　heart　being　at　ease　about　the　little　girl　upstairs　she　was　mentally　following　Clym　on　his　journey。　　Having　indulged　in　this　imaginary　peregrination　for　some　considerable　interval；　she　became　impressed　with　a　sense　of　the　intolerable　slowness　of　time。　　But　she　sat　on。　　The　moment　then　came　when　she　could　scarcely　sit　longer；　and　it　was　like　a　satire　on　her　patience　to　remember　that　Clym　could　hardly　have　reached　the　inn　as　yet。　　At　last　she　went　to　the　baby’s　bedside。　　The　child　was　sleeping　soundly；　but　her　imagination　of　possibly　disastrous　events　at　her　home；　the　predominance　within　her　of　the　unseen　over　the　seen；　agitated　her　beyond　endurance。　　She　could　not　refrain　from　going　down　and　opening　the　door。　　The　rain　still　continued；　the　candlelight　falling　upon　the　nearest　drops　and　making　glistening　darts　of　them　as　they　descended　across　the　throng　of　invisible　ones　behind。　　To　plunge　into　that　medium　was　to　plunge　into　water　slightly　diluted　with　air。　　But　the　difficulty　of　returning　to　her　house　at　this　moment　made　her　all　the　more　desirous　of　doing　so—anything　was　better　than　suspense。　　“I　have　e　here　well　enough；”　she　said；　“and　why　shouldn’t　I　go　back　again？　　It　is　a　mistake　for　me　to　be　away。”
She　hastily　fetched　the　infant；　wrapped　it　up；　cloaked　herself　as　before；　and　shoveling　the　ashes　over　the　fire；　to　prevent　accidents；　went　into　the　open　air。　　Pausing　first　to　put　the　door　key　in　its　old　place　behind　the　shutter；　she　resolutely　turned　her　face　to　the　confronting　pile　of　firmamental　darkness　beyond　the　palings；　and　stepped　into　its　midst。　　But　Thomasin’s　imagination　being　so　actively　engaged　elsewhere；　the　night　and　the　weather　had　for　her　no　terror　beyond　that　of　their　actual　disfort　and　difficulty。　
She　was　soon　ascending　Blooms…End　valley　and　traversing　the　undulations　on　the　side　of　the　hill。　　The　noise　of　the　wind　over　the　heath　was　shrill；　and　as　if　it　whistled　for　joy　at　finding　a　night　so　congenial　as　this。　　Sometimes　the　path　led　her　to　hollows　between　thickets　of　tall　and　dripping　bracken；　dead；　though　not　yet　prostrate；　which　enclosed　her　like　a　pool。　　When　they　were　more　than　usually　tall　she　lifted　the　baby　to　the　top　of　her　head；　that　it　might　be　out　of　the　reach　of　their　drenching　fronds。　　On　higher　ground；　where　the　wind　was　brisk　and　sustained；　the　rain　flew　in　a　level　flight　without　sensible　descent；　so　that　it　was　beyond　all　power　to　imagine　the　remoteness　of　the　point　at　which　it　left　the　bosoms　of　the　clouds。　　Here　self…defence　was　impossible；　and　individual　drops　stuck　into　her　like　the　arrows　into　Saint　Sebastian。　　She　was　enabled　to　avoid　puddles　by　the　nebulous　paleness　which　signified　their　presence；　though　beside　anything　less　dark　than　the　heath　they　themselves　would　have　appeared　as　blackness。　
Yet　in　spite　of　all　this　Thomasin　was　not　sorry　that　she　had　started。　　To　her　there　were　not；　as　to　Eustacia；　demons　in　the　air；　and　malice　in　every　bush　and　bough。　　The　drops　which　lashed　her　face　were　not　scorpions；　but　prosy　rain；　Egdon　in　the　mass　was　no　monster　whatever；　but　impersonal　open　ground。　　Her　fears　of　the　place　were　rational；　her　dislikes　of　its　worst　moods　reasonable。　　At　this　time　it　was　in　her　view　a　windy；　wet　place；　in　which　a　person　might　experience　much　disfort；　lose　the　path　without　care；　and　possibly　catch　cold。　
If　the　path　is　well　known　the　difficulty　at　such　times　of　keeping　therein　is　not　altogether　great；　from　its　familiar　feel　to　the　feet；　but　once　lost　it　is　irrecoverable。　　Owing　to　her　baby；　who　somewhat　impeded　Thomasin’s　view　forward　and　distracted　her　mind；　she　did　at　last　lose　the　track。　　This　mishap　occurred　when　she　was　descending　an　open　slope　about　two…thirds　home。　　Instead　of　attempting；　by　wandering　hither　and　thither；　the　hopeless　task　of　finding　such　a　mere　thread；　she　went　straight　on；　trusting　for　guidance　to　her　general　knowledge　of　the　contours；　which　was　scarcely　surpassed　by　Clym’s　or　by　that　of　the　heath…croppers　themselves。
At　length　Thomasin　reached　a　hollow　and　began　to　discern　through　the　rain　a　faint　blotted　radiance；　which　presently　assumed　the　oblong　form　of　an　open　door。　　She　knew　that　no　house　stood　hereabouts；　and　was　soon　aware　of　the　nature　of　the　door　by　its　height　above　the　ground。　
“Why；　it　is　Diggory　Venn’s　van；　surely！”　she　said。　
A　certain　secluded　spot　near　Rainbarrow　was；　she　knew；　often　Venn’s　chosen　centre　when　staying　in　this　neighbourhood；　and　she　guessed　at　once　that　she　had　stumbled　upon　this　mysterious　retreat。　　The　question　arose　in　her　mind　whether　or　not　she　should　ask　him　to　guide　her　into　the　path。　　In　her　anxiety　to　reach　home　she　decided　that　she　would　appeal　to　him；　notwithstanding　the　strangeness　of　appearing　before　his　eyes　at　this　place　and　season。　　But　when；　in　pursuance　of　this　resolve；　Thomasin　reached　the　van　and　looked　in　she　found　it　to　be　untenanted；　though　there　was　no　doubt　that　it　was　the　reddleman’s。　The　fire　was　burning　in　the　stove；　the　lantern　hung　from　the　nail。　　Round　the　doorway　the　floor　was　merely　sprinkled　with　rain；　and　not　saturated；　which　told　her　that　the　door　had　not　long　been　opened。　
While　she　stood　uncertainly　looking　in　Thomasin　heard　a　footstep　advancing　from　the　darkness　behind　her；　and　turning；　beheld　the　well…known　form　in　corduroy；　lurid　from　head　to　foot；　the　lantern　beams　falling　upon　him　through　an　intervening　gauze　of　raindrops。　
“I　thought　you　went　down　the　slope；”　he　said；　without　noticing　her　face。　　“How　do　you　e　back　here　again？”
“Diggory？”　said　Thomasin　faintly。　
“Who　are　you？”　said　Venn；　still　unperceiving。　　“And　why　were　you　crying　so　just　now？”
“O；　Diggory！　don’t　you　know　me？”　said　she。　　“But　of　course　you　don’t；　wrapped　up　like　this。　　What　do　you　mean？　　I　have　not　been　crying　here；　and　I　have　not　been　here　befor