"A woman who seems to care for nothing at all, as you may say.""She is melancholy, then?" inquired Clym.
"She mopes about by herself, and don't mix in with the people.""Is she a young lady inclined for adventures?""Not to my knowledge."
"Doesn't join in with the lads in their games, to get some sort of excitement in this lonely place?""No."
"Mumming, for instance?"
"No.Her notions be different.I should rather say her thoughts were far away from here, with lords and ladies she'll never know, and mansions she'll never see again."Observing that Clym appeared singularly interested Mrs.Yeobright said rather uneasily to Sam, "You see more in her than most of us do.Miss Vye is to my mind too idle to be charming.I have never heard that she is of any use to herself or to other people.
Good girls don't get treated as witches even on Egdon.""Nonsense--that proves nothing either way," said Yeobright.
"Well, of course I don't understand such niceties,"said Sam, withdrawing from a possibly unpleasant argument;"and what she is we must wait for time to tell us.
The business that I have really called about is this, to borrow the longest and strongest rope you have.
The captain's bucket has dropped into the well, and they are in want of water; and as all the chaps are at home today we think we can get it out for him.
We have three cart-ropes already, but they won't reach to the bottom."Mrs.Yeobright told him that he might have whatever ropes he could find in the outhouse, and Sam went out to search.
When he passed by the door Clym joined him, and accompanied him to the gate.
"Is this young witch-lady going to stay long at Mistover?"he asked.
"I should say so."
"What a cruel shame to ill-use her, She must have suffered greatly--more in mind than in body.""'Twas a graceless trick--such a handsome girl, too.
You ought to see her, Mr.Yeobright, being a young man come from far, and with a little more to show for your years than most of us.""Do you think she would like to teach children?"said Clym.
Sam shook his head."Quite a different sort of body from that, I reckon.""O, it was merely something which occurred to me.
It would of course be necessary to see her and talk it over--not an easy thing, by the way, for my family and hers are not very friendly.""I'll tell you how you mid see her, Mr.Yeobright,"said Sam."We are going to grapple for the bucket at six o'clock tonight at her house, and you could lend a hand.
There's five or six coming, but the well is deep, and another might be useful, if you don't mind appearing in that shape.
She's sure to be walking round."
"I'll think of it," said Yeobright; and they parted.
He thought of it a good deal; but nothing more was said about Eustacia inside the house at that time.
Whether this romantic martyr to superstition and the melancholy mummer he had conversed with under the full moon were one and the same person remained as yet a problem.
3 - The First Act in a Timeworn Drama The afternoon was fine, and Yeobright walked on the heath for an hour with his mother.When they reached the lofty ridge which divided the valley of Blooms-End from the adjoining valley they stood still and looked round.
The Quiet Woman Inn was visible on the low margin of the heath in one direction, and afar on the other hand rose Mistover Knap.
"You mean to call on Thomasin?" he inquired.
"Yes.But you need not come this time," said his mother.
"In that case I'll branch off here, Mother.I am going to Mistover."Mrs.Yeobright turned to him inquiringly.
"I am going to help them get the bucket out of the captain's well," he continued."As it is so very deep I may be useful.And I should like to see this Miss Vye--not so much for her good looks as for another reason.""Must you go?" his mother asked.
"I thought to."
And they parted."There is no help for it," murmured Clym's mother gloomily as he withdrew."They are sure to see each other.I wish Sam would carry his news to other houses than mine."Clym's retreating figure got smaller and smaller as it rose and fell over the hillocks on his way.
"He is tender-hearted," said Mrs.Yeobright to herself while she watched him; "otherwise it would matter little.
How he's going on!"
He was, indeed, walking with a will over the furze, as straight as a line, as if his life depended upon it.
His mother drew a long breath, and, abandoning the visit to Thomasin, turned back.The evening films began to make nebulous pictures of the valleys, but the high lands still were raked by the declining rays of the winter sun, which glanced on Clym as he walked forward, eyed by every rabbit and field-fare around, a long shadow advancing in front of him.
On drawing near to the furze-covered bank and ditch which fortified the captain's dwelling he could hear voices within, signifying that operations had been already begun.
At the side-entrance gate he stopped and looked over.
Half a dozen able-bodied men were standing in a line from the well-mouth, holding a rope which passed over the well-roller into the depths below.Fairway, with a piece of smaller rope round his body, made fast to one of the standards, to guard against accidents, was leaning over the opening, his right hand clasping the vertical rope that descended into the well.
"Now, silence, folks," said Fairway.
The talking ceased, and Fairway gave a circular motion to the rope, as if he were stirring batter.At the end of a minute a dull splashing reverberated from the bottom of the well; the helical twist he had imparted to the rope had reached the grapnel below.
"Haul!" said Fairway; and the men who held the rope began to gather it over the wheel.
"I think we've got sommat," said one of the haulers-in.
"Then pull steady," said Fairway.
They gathered up more and more, till a regular dripping into the well could be heard below.It grew smarter with the increasing height of the bucket, and presently a hundred and fifty feet of rope had been pulled in.
Fairway then lit a lantern, tied it to another cord, and began lowering it into the well beside the first:
