Fifty Two: Far From The Madding Crowd: Thomas Hardy: Converging Courses.

Christmas Eve.  Boldwood was to arrange a party, and it became the talk of Weatherbury.  Parties were not rare in the parish; but Boldwood was the giver made it a wonder.  The announcement was incongruous and abnormal as if a croquet playing in a cathedral, or that some much respected judge was going on the stage.  The party was intended to be a truly jovial one.  A large bough of  mistletoe had been brought from the woods that day and suspended in the hall of bachelor's house. Holly and Ivy had followed in armfuls. From the early morning till past noon the huge wood fire in the kitchen roared and sparkled at its highest, the kettle and the saucepan and the three legged pot appearing in the midst of the flames like Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego; while in addition, roasting and basting operations were continued in front of the genial blaze.  As it grew later, the fire was made up in the large, oblong hall into which the stair descended,  and all encumbrances were cleared out for dancing.  The log that was to form the back-brand of evening fire was a complete tree trunk so unweildy that it could be neither brought nor rolled to its place; four men were dragging and heaving it in by chain and levers, as the hour of assembly drew near. 

In spite of all this the spirit of revelry was wanting in the house. 

Bathsheba was at this time in her room, dressing for the event.  She had called for candles, and Liddy entered and placed one on each side of her mistress's glass. 

"Don't go away Liddy," said Bathsheba, almost timidly.  "I am strangely agitated.  I cannot tell why. I wish I had not been obliged to go to this party, but there is no escaping now.  I have not spoke to Boldwood since the autumn, when I promised to see him at Christmas on business, having no idea there was to be anything of this kind." 

"But, I would go now," said Liddy, who was going with her, for Boldwood had been indiscriminate in his invitations."

"Yes, I shall make my appearance, of course," said Bathsheba.  "Liddy, I am the cause of the party, and that upsets me.  Don't tell anybody."

"Oh no.   You the cause of it ma'am?"

"Yes.  I am the origin of the party.  I --- can't explain it.  There's no more to be explained.  I had never seen Weatherbury." 

"That's wicked of you --- To wish to be worse off than you are."

"No it isn't.  I have never been free from trouble since I lived here, and this party is likely to bring me more.  Now fetch my black silk dress, and see how it sits upon me."

"But you will leave off that, surely, ma'am?"   You have been a widow lady fourteen months, and ought to brighten up a little on such night as this." 

"It's not necessary.  I mean to appear as usual; for if I were to wear gay dress, people would say things about me, and I should seem to be rejoicing, when I am solemn all the time.  The party is altogether a painful matter, but it cannot be helped; stay and finish me off." 

At the Lower Farm Boldwood too was dressing.  A tailor from Casterbridge was with him, assisting him trying a new coat.  Never had Boldwood been so fastidious, unreasonable about the fit.  The tailor walked round and round him, tugged at the waist, pulled the sleeve, pressed the collar, and for the first time in his experience, he was not bored.  Times had been when the farmer had objected to all such niceties.  Boldwood had at last expressed himself satisfied and paid the bill.  The tailor passed out and Gabriel Oak came in.

"Ah, Oak," said Boldwood, "I shall of course see you here tonight.  Make yourself merry.  I am determined that neither expense nor trouble shall be spared." 

"I'll be here, sir, though perhaps not early," said Gabriel quietly.  "I am glad indeed to see such a change in you." 

"Yes; I must own it.  I am bright tonight, and cheerful, and more than cheerful, and so uneasy.  And when I am excessively cheerful, a trouble is looming.  Perhaps, my day is dwaning, at last." 

"I hope it will be a long one." 

"Thank you, thank you.  Yet my cheerfulness rests upon a slender hope.  And still I have reason to trust my hope; I think this time I reckon with my host. . . . Oak, will you tie this neckerchief for me?  My hands shake, and I cannot do it properly.  The fact is I have not been quite well lately." 

"I am sorry to hear that, sir." 

"Oh, it's nothing, and will soon pass away.  Tie it as neatly as you can, please.  Is there any late knot in fashion, Oak?"

"I don't know, sir," said Oak in a tone which had sunk to sadness.

Boldwood approached Gabriel, and as Oak tied the neckerchief he went on feverishly:-

"Does a woman keep her promise, Gabriel?"

"If it is not inconvenient, she may."

"Or rather, an implied promise."

"I won't answer for her implying," said Oak, with a faint bitterness.  "That's a word as full of holes as sieve with them."

"Oak, don't talk like that.  You have got quite cynical lately.  How is it?  We seem to have shifted positions.

However, does a woman keep a promise --- not to marry, but to enter on an engagement to marry at some time?  Now, you know women better than I; tell me." 

"She may, if it is made with an honest intention to repair a wrong." 

"It has not gone far yet, but I think it will soon.  Yes, I know it will," he said in a fervent whisper.  "I have pressed her upon the matter, and she inclines to be kind to me, and to think of me as a husband at a long future time, and that is enough for me.  How can I expect more?  She has a notion that a widow should not marry within seven years of her husband's death, that her own self should not marry, I mean, because his body was not found.  It may be merely some legal reason, which influences her, or it may be a religious one; but she is reluctant to talk on the point.  But she has promised, implied that she will ratify an engagement tonight."

"Seven years," murmured Oak.

"No, no.  It's no such thing!" he said impetuously.  "Five years, ten months and a few days.  Nearly fourteen months have passed since his death, and is there anything so wonderful in an engagement of little more than five years?"

"It seems long in a forward view.  Don't build too much upon promises, sir.  Remember you have once been deceived.  Her intentions may be good, but she is young yet."

"Deceived!  Never!" said Boldwood with quick vehemence.  "She never promised me at that time, and hence she did not break her promise.  If she promises me she will marry me.  Bathsheba is a woman to her word."

                         *   *   *    

Troy was sitting in an apartment of a small tavern in Casterbridge, smoking and drinking a steaming mixture from a glass.  A knock.was given at the door and Pennyways entered.

"Well, have you seen him?"  Troy inquired.

"Boldwood?"

"No; Lawyer Long."

"He was not at home."

"That's a nuisance."

"Tis rather"

"Yet I don't see that because a man appears to be drowned and was not he should be liable for anything.  I shant ask any lawyer; not I."

"But that's not it exactly.  If a man takes steps to deceive the world, he's a cheat, which is aye he's a rogue, which is aye he's a vagabond and that's a punishable word." 

"Ha -ha! Well done, Pennyways," Troy had laughed; but it was with anxiety he said, "Now what I want is to know this; do you think there is really anything going on between her and Boldwood? Upon my soul I should never have believed it.  How she must detest me!  Have you found whether she has encouraged him?"

"I have not been able to learn.  There's a deal of feeling on his side seemingly, but I don't answer for her.

I didn't know a word about any such thing till yesterday, and all I heard then was that she was going to the party at his house tonight.  This is the first time she has ever gone there, they say; and they say that she is not much as spoke to him since they were at Greenhill Fair; but what can folk  believe of it.  However she's not fond of him, quite careless I know."

"I am not so sure of that ......She is a handsome woman, Pennyways, is she not?  Own that you never saw a finer creature in your life.  Upon my honour, when I set eyes upon her that day, I wondered what I could have been made of, to be able to leave her alone so long."  He smoked on a while and and then added, "How did she look when you passed by this week?"

"Oh, she took no great heed of me, you may well fancy.  But she looked well enough.  Just flashed her haughty eyes upon my poor body, and let them roll past me at what was yond, much as if I had been a leafless tree.  She had just got off her mare to look at the last wring-down of cider making that was going on; she had been riding and her colours were up and her breath rather quick so that her bosom plimmed and fell every time plain to my eye.  Aye, and there were the fellers round her, wringing down the cheese and bustling out and saying, "Ware of the pommy ma'am, it will spoil your gown.'   'Never mind me,' says she.  Then Gabe brought her some of the new cider, and she must go drinking it through a straw-mote and not in.a natural way at all.  'Liddy,' says she 'bring indoors a few gallons, and I will make some cider wine.'

"Sergeant, I was no more to her than a morsel of scroff in the fuel house."

"I must go and find her out; oh, I must go and see to that; Oak is head man, isn't he?"

"Yes, I believe, and at Lower Farm too.  He manages everything."

"It will puzzle him to manage her, or any other man of his compass."

"I don't know about that.  She have a few soft corners in her heart, though I have never been able to get into one.  The devil's in't.  But she can't do without him, and Knowing it well, he's pretty independent." 

"Ah, baily, she is a notch above you, and you must own it; a higher class of animal, a finer tissue.  However, stick to me, and neither this haughty goddess, dashing piece of womanhood Juno-wife of mine, or anybody else shall hurt you.  But all this wants to looking into, I perceive.

What with one thing and another, I see that my work is well cut out for me."

          *********************

"How do I look tonight, Liddy?" said Bathsheba, giving a final adjustment to her dress before leaving the glass.

"I never saw you look so well. I will tell you when you looked like it.  That night two years ago when you came in so wild-like and scolded us for saying things about you."

"Everybody will say that I am setting myself to captivate Boldwood, when goodness knows how I shun the thought.  I dread going, but I dread wounding him by staying away."

"Anyhow, ma'am, you can't well be dressed plainer than you are, unless you go in sackcloth at once.  Your excitement is your ornament tonight." 

"I don't know what is the matter," she murmured.  "I feel wretched, and I feel buoyant.  I wish should have continued in solitude, as I have been for last year, with no hopes and no fears, no pleasure and no grief."

"Suppose Mr Boldwood should ask you to runaway with him!" 

"Liddy, none of that!" said Bathsheba gravely.  "I don't want your joke on any such matter."

"I beg pardon, ma'am.  But knowing what we women are, I --- However, I won't speak of it again.

"No marrying for me yet for many a year.  It will be for reasons very very different.  Not what you think or others believe.  Now, get my cloak.  It's time to go." 

          ********************

"Oak," said Boldwood, "before you go I want to mention what has been passing in my mind lately --- that little arrangement we made about your share in the farm, I mean.  That share is small, too small considering how little I attend to business now, and how much time and thought you give it.  Well, since the world is brightening for me I want to show my sense of it by increasing your share in the partnership.  I will make a memorandum of arrangement, which struck me as convenient, for I haven't time to talk about it now.  We will discuss it at our leisure.  My intention is ultimately to retire from the management altogether, and until you can take, all the expenditure upon your shoulders, I will be a sleeping partner in the stock.  Then if I marry her ---- and I hope ---- I feel I shall ---- why" ----

"Pray, don't speak of it, sir," said Oak, hastily.  "We don't know what may happen.  So many ups and downs go on in the world, there's many a slip, as they say, and I would advise you -- I know you will pardon me this once --- not to be too sure."

"I know, I know.  But the feeling I have about increasing your share is on account of what I know of you, Oak, I have learnt a little about your secret; your interest in her is more than that of a bailiff.  But you have behaved like a man, and I, as a sort of successful rival, ---- successful partly through your goodness of heart ---- should like to show my sense of your friendship under what must have been a pain to you."

"Oh, that's not necessary," said Oak.  "I must get used to such thongs.  Other men have, and so shall I."

And then, Oak went away.  He was uneasy on account of Boldwood.  The infatuation of the farmer had left him not the man he once had been.

Boldwood remained in his room for a while.  The mood of his anxiety about his appearance seemed to pass away.  He looked out at the dim outline of trees upon the sky in the twilight.

He went to a locked closet and took from a locked drawer therein a small circular case, and opened it. It contained a woman's ring.  His eyes lingered upon its sparkles, and his thoughts followed the natural course of it in future.

The noise of wheels at the front of the house. Boldwood closed the case and stowed it carefully in his pocket, and went out upon the landing.  The man who was his indoor factotum came to the foot of the stairs.

"They be coming, sir, lots of 'em a-foot and a-driving!" 

"I was coming down this moment --- those wheels I heard --- is it Mrs Troy?" 

"No, sir; she's not yet here."   A reserved and sombre expression had come to Boldwood's face again, but it poorly cloaked his feelings when he pronounced Bathsheba's name.  And his feverish anxiety continued as he went down the stairs.

               *************

"How does this cover me?" said Troy to Pennyways.

"Nobody would recognise you." 

Troy was buttoning a heavy over coat of Noachian cut, with a cape and high collar, the latter being erect like a girdling wall, about his head, and nearly reaching to the edge of the travelling cap which was pulled down over his ears.

Pennyways snuffed the candle, and then looked up and deliberately inspected Troy.  

"You have made up your mind to go, then?" he said.

"Made up my mind? Why not?" 

"Why not write to her? " 'Tis a very queer corner that you have got into, sergeant.  You see, all these things will come to light if you go back, and they won't sound well at all.  You see all these things will come to light if you go back, and they won't sound well at all.  Faith, if I were you, I would even bide as you be, a single man named Francis.  The best wife is worse than none. Now, that's my mind, and I have been called a long headed fellow here and there."

"All nonsense.  There's she with plenty of money, and a house and farm and horses and comfort --- and here I am living from hand to mouth.  Besides, it's no use talking now, it is too late; I have been seen and recognised here this very afternoon.  I should have gone back to her the day after the fair, if it hadn't been for you, talking about the law, and such rubbish, and I won't put it off any longer.  What the deuce put it into my head to run away at all I can't think!  A big humbug!  What man was to know that his wife would be in such a hurry to get rid of his name!" 

"I should have known it.  She's bad enough for anything."

"Pennyways, mind who you were talking to." 

"Well, sergeant, all I say is this, if I were you I would go abroad again where I came from; it isn't too late to do it now.  I wouldn't stir up the business and get a bad name, for the sake of living with her.  My eyes and limbs, there will be a racket if you go back just now --- in the middle of Boldwood's Christmas party." 

"Yes.  I shall be an unwelcome guest if he has her there," said the sergeant grimly.  A sort of Alonzo the Brave.  And when I go in the guests will sit in silence and fear, and all laugh and pleasure will be hushed, the light in the chamber will burn blue, and the worms --- Ugh!  how horrible!  Ring for some more brandy.  Pennyways and then I am off.  Now let me see:  is there anything else?  A walking stick; Yes I must have a walking stick." 

Pennyways now felt himself to be in something of a difficulty; for should Bathsheba and Troy become reconciled, it would be necessary to gain her good opinion if he would secure the patronage of her husband.  "I sometimes think she still likes you, and is a good woman at bottom," he said, as saving a sentence.  "But there's no telling to a certainty from a body's outside.  Well, you will do as you like about going, of course, a sergeant, and as for me, I will do as you tell me."

"Now let me see what the time is," said Troy, after emptying his glass in one draught as he stood.  "Six o'clock.  I shall not hurry along the road, and I shall be there then before nine." 

        END OF THE CHAPTER