The Woodlanders Part 2 by Thomas Hardy (best short books to read TXT) 📖

Directed,  And He Retreated.  His Snug

Place Proved to Be A Wretched little Shelter Of The Roughest Kind,

Formed of Four Hurdles Thatched with Brake-Fern.  Underneath Were

Dry Sticks,  Hay,  And Other Litter Of The Sort,  Upon Which He Sat

Down; And There In the Dark Tried to Eat His Meal.  But His

Appetite Was Quite Gone.  He Pushed the Plate Aside,  And Shook Up

The Hay And Sacks,  So As To Form A Rude Couch,  On Which He Flung

Himself Down To Sleep,  For It Was Getting late.

 

But Sleep He Could Not,  For Many Reasons,  Of Which Not The Least

Was Thought Of His Charge.  He Sat Up,  And Looked towards The Cot

Through The Damp Obscurity.  With All Its External Features The

Same As Usual,  He Could Scarcely Believe That It Contained the

Dear Friend--He Would Not Use A Warmer Name--Who Had Come To Him

So Unexpectedly,  And,  He Could Not Help Admitting,  So Rashly.

 

He Had Not Ventured to Ask Her Any Particulars; But The Position

Was Pretty Clear Without Them.  Though Social Law Had Negatived

Forever Their Opening paradise Of The Previous June,  It Was Not

Without Stoical Pride That He Accepted the Present Trying

Conjuncture.  There Was One Man On Earth In whom She Believed

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Absolutely,  And He Was That Man.  That This Crisis Could End In

Nothing but Sorrow Was A View For A Moment Effaced by This

Triumphant Thought Of Her Trust In him; And The Purity Of The

Affection With Which He Responded to That Trust Rendered him More

Than Proof Against Any Frailty That Besieged him In relation To

Her.

 

The Rain,  Which Had Never Ceased,  Now Drew His Attention By

Beginning to Drop Through The Meagre Screen That Covered him.  He

Rose To Attempt Some Remedy For This Discomfort,  But The Trembling

Of His Knees And The Throbbing of His Pulse Told Him That In his

Weakness He Was Unable To Fence Against The Storm,  And He Lay Down

To Bear It As Best He Might.  He Was Angry With Himself For His

Feebleness--He Who Had Been So Strong.  It Was Imperative That She

Should Know Nothing of His Present State,  And To Do That She Must

Not See His Face By Daylight,  For Its Color Would Inevitably

Betray Him.

 

The Next Morning,  Accordingly,  When It Was Hardly Light,  He Rose

And Dragged his Stiff Limbs About The Precincts,  Preparing for Her

Everything she Could Require For Getting breakfast Within.  On The

Bench Outside The Window-Sill He Placed water,  Wood,  And Other

Necessaries,  Writing with A Piece Of Chalk Beside Them,  "It Is

Best That I Should Not See You.  Put My Breakfast On The Bench."

 

At Seven O'Clock He Tapped at Her Window,  As He Had Promised,

Retreating at Once,  That She Might Not Catch Sight Of Him.  But

From His Shelter Under The Boughs He Could See Her Very Well,

When,  In response To His Signal,  She Opened the Window And The

Light Fell Upon Her Face.  The Languid Largeness Of Her Eyes

Showed that Her Sleep Had Been Little More Than His Own,  And The

Pinkness Of Their Lids,  That Her Waking hours Had Not Been Free

From Tears.

 

She Read The Writing,  Seemed,  He Thought,  Disappointed,  But Took

Up The Materials He Had Provided,  Evidently Thinking him Some Way

Off.  Giles Waited on,  Assured that A Girl Who,  In spite Of Her

Culture,  Knew What Country Life Was,  Would Find No Difficulty In

The Simple Preparation Of Their Food.

 

Within The Cot It Was All Very Much As He Conjectured,  Though

Grace Had Slept Much Longer Than He.  After The Loneliness Of The

Night,  She Would Have Been Glad To See Him; But Appreciating his

Feeling when She Read The Writing,  She Made No Attempt To Recall

Him.  She Found Abundance Of Provisions Laid In,  His Plan Being to

Replenish His Buttery Weekly,  And This Being the Day After The

Victualling van Had Called from Sherton.  When The Meal Was Ready,

She Put What He Required outside,  As She Had Done With The Supper;

And,  Notwithstanding her Longing to See Him,  Withdrew From The

Window Promptly,  And Left Him To Himself.

 

It Had Been A Leaden Dawn,  And The Rain Now Steadily Renewed its

Fall.  As She Heard No More Of Winterborne,  She Concluded that He

Had Gone Away To His Daily Work,  And Forgotten That He Had

Promised to Accompany Her To Sherton; An Erroneous Conclusion,  For

He Remained all Day,  By Force Of His Condition,  Within Fifty Yards

Of Where She Was.  The Morning wore On; And In her Doubt When To

Start,  And How To Travel,  She Lingered yet,  Keeping the Door

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Carefully Bolted,  Lest An Intruder Should Discover Her.  Locked in

This Place,  She Was Comparatively Safe,  At Any Rate,  And Doubted

If She Would Be Safe Elsewhere.

 

The Humid Gloom Of An Ordinary Wet Day Was Doubled by The Shade

And Drip Of The Leafage.  Autumn,  This Year,  Was Coming in with

Rains.  Gazing,  In her Enforced idleness,  From The One Window Of

The Living-Room,  She Could See Various Small Members Of The Animal

Community That Lived unmolested there--Creatures Of Hair,  Fluff,

And Scale,  The Toothed kind And The Billed kind; Underground

Creatures,  Jointed and Ringed--Circumambulating the Hut,  Under The

Impression That,  Giles Having gone Away,  Nobody Was There; And

Eying it Inquisitively With A View To Winter-Quarters.  Watching

These Neighbors,  Who Knew Neither Law Nor Sin,  Distracted her A

Little From Her Trouble; And She Managed to While Away Some

Portion Of The Afternoon By Putting giles'S Home In order And

Making little Improvements Which She Deemed that He Would Value

When She Was Gone.

 

Once Or Twice She Fancied that She Heard A Faint Noise Amid The

Trees,  Resembling a Cough; But As It Never Came Any Nearer She

Concluded that It Was A Squirrel Or A Bird.

 

At Last The Daylight Lessened,  And She Made Up A Larger Fire For

The Evenings Were Chilly.  As Soon As It Was Too Dark--Which Was

Comparatively Early--To Discern The Human Countenance In this

Place Of Shadows,  There Came To The Window To Her Great Delight,  A

Tapping which She Knew From Its Method To Be Giles'S.

 

She Opened the Casement Instantly,  And Put Out Her Hand To Him,

Though She Could Only Just Perceive His Outline.  He Clasped her

Fingers,  And She Noticed the Heat Of His Palm And Its Shakiness.

 

"He Has Been Walking fast,  In order To Get Here Quickly," She

Thought.  How Could She Know That He Had Just Crawled out From The

Straw Of The Shelter Hard By; And That The Heat Of His Hand Was

Feverishness?

 

"My Dear,  Good Giles!" She Burst Out,  Impulsively.

 

"Anybody Would Have Done It For You," Replied winterborne,  With As

Much Matter-Of-Fact As He Could Summon.

 

"About My Getting to Exbury?" She Said.

 

"I Have Been Thinking," Responded giles,  With Tender Deference,

"That You Had Better Stay Where You Are For The Present,  If You

Wish Not To Be Caught.  I Need not Tell You That The Place Is

Yours As Long As You Like; And Perhaps In a Day Or Two,  Finding

You Absent,  He Will Go Away.  At Any Rate,  In two Or Three Days I

Could Do Anything to Assist--Such As Make Inquiries,  Or Go A Great

Way Towards Sherton-Abbas With You; For The Cider Season Will Soon

Be Coming on,  And I Want To Run Down To The Vale To See How The

Crops Are,  And I Shall Go By The Sherton Road.  But For A Day Or

Two I Am Busy Here."  He Was Hoping that By The Time Mentioned he

Would Be Strong Enough To Engage Himself Actively On Her Behalf.

"I Hope You Do Not Feel Over-Much Melancholy In being a Prisoner?"

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She Declared that She Did Not Mind It; But She Sighed.

 

From Long Acquaintance They Could Read Each Other'S Heart-Symptoms

Like Books Of Large Type.  "I Fear You Are Sorry You Came," Said

Giles,  "And That You Think I Should Have Advised you More Firmly

Than I Did Not To Stay."

 

"Oh No,  Dear,  Dear Friend," Answered grace,  With A Heaving bosom.

"Don'T Think That That Is What I Regret.  What I Regret Is My

Enforced treatment Of You--Dislodging you,  Excluding you From Your

Own House.  Why Should I Not Speak Out? You Know What I Feel For

You--What I Have Felt For No Other Living man,  What I Shall Never

Feel For A Man Again! But As I Have Vowed myself To Somebody Else

Than You,  And Cannot Be Released,  I Must Behave As I Do Behave,

And Keep That Vow.  I Am Not Bound To Him By Any Divine Law,  After

What He Has Done; But I Have Promised,  And I Will Pay."

 

The Rest Of The Evening was Passed in his Handing her Such Things

As She Would Require The Next Day,  And Casual Remarks Thereupon,

An Occupation Which Diverted her Mind To Some Degree From Pathetic

Views Of Her Attitude Towards Him,  And Of Her Life In general.

The Only Infringement--If Infringement It Could Be Called--Of His

Predetermined bearing towards Her Was An Involuntary Pressing of

Her Hand To His Lips When She Put It Through The Casement To Bid

Him Good-Night.  He Knew She Was Weeping,  Though He Could Not See

Her Tears.

 

She Again Entreated his Forgiveness For So Selfishly Appropriating

The Cottage.  But It Would Only Be For A Day Or Two More,  She

Thought,  Since Go She Must.

 

He Replied,  Yearningly,  "I--I Don'T Like You To Go Away."

 

"Oh,  Giles," Said She,  "I Know--I Know! But--I Am A Woman,  And You

Are A Man.  I Cannot Speak More Plainly.  'Whatsoever Things Are

Pure,  Whatsoever Things Are Of Good Report'--You Know What Is In

My Mind,  Because You Know Me So Well."

 

"Yes,  Grace,  Yes.  I Do Not At All Mean That The Question Between

Us Has Not Been Settled by The Fact Of Your Marriage Turning out

Hopelessly Unalterable.  I Merely Meant--Well,  A Feeling no More."

 

"In A Week,  At The Outside,  I Should Be Discovered if I Stayed

Here: And I Think That By Law He Could Compel Me To Return To

Him."

 

"Yes; Perhaps You Are Right.  Go When You Wish,  Dear Grace."

 

His Last Words That Evening were A Hopeful Remark That All Might

Be Well With Her Yet; That Mr. Fitzpiers Would Not Intrude Upon

Her Life,  If He Found That His Presence Cost Her So Much Pain.

Then The Window Was Closed,  The Shutters Folded,  And The Rustle Of

His Footsteps Died away.

 

No Sooner Had She Retired to Rest