Seven: Far From The Madding crowd: Thomas Hardy

Bathsheba withdrew into the shade. The meeting was unexpected, and strange. She felt pity towards the farmer. She remembered his declaration of love to her. Amusing, She thought. 

"Yes," she murmured, putting on an air of dignity and turning again to him warmly, "I do want a shepherd. But--" 

"He's the very man ma'am,"  said one of the villagers quietly. 

Conviction breeds conviction. "Yes that is," said a second man. 

"He is the man, truly," said a third one.

"He is all there." Came from the fourth.

"Then, will you tell him to speak to the bailiff," said  Bathsheba.

The bailiff was pointed out to Gabriel, who retired with him to talk over the necessary preliminaries of hiring.

The fire before them was wasted away. "Men," said Bathsheba, "you shall take a little refreshment after this extra work. Will you come to the house?" 

"We could knock in a bit and a drop a good deal freer, miss, if you would send it to Warren's Malthouse," replied the spokesman.

Bathsheba then rode off into the darkness, and the men straggled on to the village in twos and threes -- Oak and the bailiff left by the rick alone.

"And now," said the bailiff, finally, "all is settled, I think, about your coming, and I am going home along. Goodnight you, shepherd." 

"Can you get me a lodging?" inquired Gabriel.

"That I can't indeed," he said moving past Oak, "if you follow on the road till you comes to Warren's Malthouse, where they are all gone to have their snap of victuals, I dare say some of them will tell you of a place. Goodnight to you, shepherd."

The bailiff who showed this nervous dread of loving his neighbours as himself, went up the hill, and Oak walked on to the village still astonished at the recounter with Bathsheba, glad of his nearness to her, and perplexed at the rapidity with which the unpractised girl of Norcombe had developed into the supervising and cool woman here. But some women only require an emergency to make them fit for one.

The place was new to Gabriel. He could not find out any men of Bathsheba's farm. The churchyard was full of old chestnut trees. He walked through the dense and wide margin of grass. He noticed a figure under an old chestnut tree, standing behind its trunk on the other side. He accidentally kicked a loose stone. The noise was enough to disturb the motionless figure. A slim girl, rather thinly clad.

"Goodnight to you," said Gabriel, heartily.

"Goodnight," replied the girl. Her voice was of loose and melodious.

"Suppose, I am on the way to Warren's Malthouse?" asked Gabriel.

"Quite right, it is at the bottom of the hill." 

"Do you know how late they keep open the Buck's Head Inn?" 

"I don't know where the Buck's Head is. I think, you are not a Whetherbury man?" 

"I am not. I just arrived. The new shepherd." 

"Only a shepherd - and you seem almost a farmer, by your ways." 

"Only a shepherd," said Gabriel in a dull voice. His thoughts were directed to the past, his eyes to the feet of the girl, and for the first time he saw lying there a bundle of some sort. She noticed the direction of his eyes, and said coaxingly, "you won't say anything in the parish about having seen me here, will you? -- atleast, not for a day or two."

"I won't, if you wish me not to."

"Thank you, indeed. I am poor and I don't want people to know anything about me." Then she was silent, and shivered.

"You ought to have a cloak on such a cold night," observed Gabriel.  "I would advise you to get indoors."

"Oh, no! Would you mind going on and leaving me? I thank you much for what you have told me." 

"I will go on," he said; adding hesitatingly, "since you are not very well off, perhaps you would accept this trifle from me. It is only a shilling, but it is all I have to spare."

"Yes, I will take it," said the stranger gratefully. She extended her hand; Gabriel his. In feeling for each other's palms in the gloom befor the money could be passed, a minute incident occurred which told much. Gabriel's fingers alighted on the young woman's wrist. It was beating with a throb of tragic intensity. He had frequently felt the same quick hard beat in the femoral artery of his lambs when overdriven. It suggested a consumption too great of a vitality which, to judge from her figure and stature was already too little.

"What is the matter?"

"Nothing."

"But, there is!"

"No, no, no! Let your having seen me be a secret!" 

"Very well; I will. Goodnight again." 

"Goodnight." 

The girl remained motionless by the tree and Gabriel descended into the village. He fancied that he felt an unknown sadness when he touched that slight fragile girl.

The End of the Chapter 

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Notes:-

• Bailiff: here means supervisor or manager of the farm.

• Norcombe Hills: The location is near Toller Down in Dorset, a region central to Hardy's fictional Wessex. Beech trees on the hills crest features authentic landscape.