Gabriel shook his head. The soldier turned a little towards the east, and the sun kindled his scarlet coat to an orange glow.
`But it is a nice old house,' responded Gabriel.
`Yes - I suppose so; but I feel like new wine in an old bottle here.
My notion is that sash-windows should be put throughout, and these old wainscoted walls brightened up a bit; or the oak cleared quite away, and the walls papered.'
`It would be a pity, I think.'
`Well, no. A philosopher once said in my hearing that the old builders, who worked when art was a living thing, had no respect for the work of builders who went before them, but pulled down and altered as they thought fit; and why shouldn't we? "Creation and preservation don't do well together," says he, "and a million of antiquarians can't invent a style." My mind exactly. I am for making this place more modern, that we may be cheerful whilst we can.'
The military man turned and surveyed the interior of the room, to assist his ideas of improvement in this direction. Gabriel and Coggan began to move on.
`Oh, Coggan,' said Troy, as if inspired by a recollection, `do you know if insanity has ever appeared in Mr Boldwood's family?'
Jan reflected for a moment.
`I once heard that an uncle of his was queer in his head, but I don't know the rights o't,' he said.
`It is of no importance,' said Troy lightly. `Well, I shall be down in the fields with you some time this week; but I have a few matters to attend to first. So good-day to you. We shall, of course, keep on just as friendly terms as usual. I'm not a proud man: nobody is ever able to say that of Sergeant Troy. However, what is must be, and here's half a-crown to drink my health, men.'
Troy threw the coin dexterously across the front plot and over the fence towards Gabriel, who shunned it in its fall, his face turning to an angry red. Coggan twirled his eye, edged forward, and caught the money in its ricochet upon the road.
`Very well - you keep it, Coggan,' said Gabriel with disdain, and almost fiercely. `As for me, I'll do without gifts from him!'
`Don't show it too much,' said Coggan musingly. `For if he's married to her, mark my words, he'll buy his discharge and be our master here.
Therefore 'tis well to say "Friend" outwardly, though you say "Troublehouse" within.
`Well - perhaps it is best to be silent; but I can't go further than that. I can't flatter, and if my place here is only to be kept by smoothing him down, my place must be lost.'
A horseman, whom they had for some time seen in the distance, now appeared close beside them.
`There's Mr Boldwood,' said Oak. `I wonder what Troy meant by his question.'
Coggan and Oak nodded respectfully to the farmer, just checked their paces to discover if they were wanted, and finding they were not, stood back to let him pass on.
The only signs of the terrible sorrow Boldwood had been combating through the night, and was combating now, were the want of colour in his well-defined face, the enlarged appearance of the veins in his forehead and temples, and the sharper lines about his mouth. The horse bore him away, and the very step of the animal seemed significant of dogged despair. Gabriel, for a minute, rose above his own grief in noticing Boldwood's. He saw the square figure sitting erect upon the horse, the head turned to neither side, the elbows steady by the hips, the brim of the hat level and undisturbed in its onward glide, until the keen edges of Boldwood's shape sank by degrees over the hill. To one who knew the man and his story there was something more striking in this immobility than in a collapse. The clash of discord between mood and matter here was forced painfully home to the heart; and, as in laughter there are more dreadful phases than in tears, so was there in the steadiness of this agonized man an expression deeper than a cry.
