第30章 THE THREE WOMEN(29)

"God, how lonely it is!" resumed Wildeve."What are picturesque ravines and mists to us who see nothing else?"Why should we stay here? Will you go with me to America?

I have kindred in Wisconsin."

"That wants consideration."

"It seems impossible to do well here, unless one were a wild bird or a landscape-painter.Well?""Give me time," she softly said, taking his hand.

"America is so far away.Are you going to walk with me a little way?"As Eustacia uttered the latter words she retired from the base of the barrow, and Wildeve followed her, so that the reddleman could hear no more.

He lifted the turves and arose.Their black figures sank and disappeared from against the sky.They were as two horns which the sluggish heath had put forth from its crown, like a mollusc, and had now again drawn in.

The reddleman's walk across the vale, and over into the next where his cart lay, was not sprightly for a slim young fellow of twenty-four.His spirit was perturbed to aching.

The breezes that blew around his mouth in that walk carried off upon them the accents of a commination.

He entered the van, where there was a fire in a stove.

Without lighting his candle he sat down at once on the three-legged stool, and pondered on what he had seen and heard touching that still-loved one of his.

He uttered a sound which was neither sigh nor sob, but was even more indicative than either of a troubled mind.

"My Tamsie," he whispered heavily."What can be done? Yes, I will see that Eustacia Vye."10 - A Desperate Attempt at Persuasion The next morning, at the time when the height of the sun appeared very insignificant from any part of the heath as compared with the altitude of Rainbarrow, and when all the little hills in the lower levels were like an archipelago in a fog-formed Aegean, the reddleman came from the brambled nook which he had adopted as his quarters and ascended the slopes of Mistover Knap.

Though these shaggy hills were apparently so solitary, several keen round eyes were always ready on such a wintry morning as this to converge upon a passer-by.

Feathered species sojourned here in hiding which would have created wonder if found elsewhere.A bustard haunted the spot, and not many years before this five and twenty might have been seen in Egdon at one time.

Marsh-harriers looked up from the valley by Wildeve's.

A cream-coloured courser had used to visit this hill, a bird so rare that not more than a dozen have ever been seen in England; but a barbarian rested neither night nor day till he had shot the African truant, and after that event cream-coloured coursers thought fit to enter Egdon no more.

A traveller who should walk and observe any of these visitants as Venn observed them now could feel himself to be in direct communication with regions unknown to man.

Here in front of him was a wild mallard--just arrived from the home of the north wind.The creature brought within him an amplitude of Northern knowledge.Glacial catastrophes, snowstorm episodes, glittering auroral effects, Polaris in the zenith, Franklin underfoot--the category of his commonplaces was wonderful.But the bird, like many other philosophers, seemed as he looked at the reddleman to think that a present moment of comfortable reality was worth a decade of memories.

Venn passed on through these towards the house of the isolated beauty who lived up among them and despised them.

The day was Sunday; but as going to church, except to be married or buried, was exceptional at Egdon, this made little difference.He had determined upon the bold stroke of asking for an interview with Miss Vye--to attack her position as Thomasin's rival either by art or by storm, showing therein, somewhat too conspicuously, the want of gallantry characteristic of a certain astute sort of men, from clowns to kings.The great Frederick making war on the beautiful Archduchess, Napoleon refusing terms to the beautiful Queen of Prussia, were not more dead to difference of sex than the reddleman was, in his peculiar way, in planning the displacement of Eustacia.

To call at the captain's cottage was always more or less an undertaking for the inferior inhabitants.

Though occasionally chatty, his moods were erratic, and nobody could be certain how he would behave at any particular moment.Eustacia was reserved, and lived very much to herself.Except the daughter of one of the cotters, who was their servant, and a lad who worked in the garden and stable, scarcely anyone but themselves ever entered the house.They were the only genteel people of the district except the Yeobrights, and though far from rich, they did not feel that necessity for preserving a friendly face towards every man, bird, and beast which influenced their poorer neighbours.

When the reddleman entered the garden the old man was looking through his glass at the stain of blue sea in the distant landscape, the little anchors on his buttons twinkling in the sun.He recognized Venn as his companion on the highway, but made no remark on that circumstance, merely saying, "Ah, reddleman--you here? Have a glass of grog?"Venn declined, on the plea of it being too early, and stated that his business was with Miss Vye.The captain surveyed him from cap to waistcoat and from waistcoat to leggings for a few moments, and finally asked him to go indoors.

Miss Vye was not to be seen by anybody just then;and the reddleman waited in the window-bench of the kitchen, his hands hanging across his divergent knees, and his cap hanging from his hands.

"I suppose the young lady is not up yet?" he presently said to the servant.

"Not quite yet.Folks never call upon ladies at this time of day.""Then I'll step outside," said Venn."If she is willing to see me, will she please send out word, and I'll come in."The reddleman left the house and loitered on the hill adjoining.A considerable time elapsed, and no request for his presence was brought.He was beginning to think that his scheme had failed, when he beheld the form of Eustacia herself coming leisurely towards him.