Sixteen: Far From The Madding Crowd: Thomas Hardy: The Shadow of A Mistake
All Saints Church, Melchester. A week day. Morning. The small congregation mainly of women and girls rose from its knees at the end of a service without sermon. They were about to disperse, but their attention was arrested by smart footsteps entering the porch and coming up the central passage. It echoed with a ring unusual in a church. It was the clink of spurs. Everybody looked. A young cavalry soldier in red uniform, with the three chevrons of a sergeant upon his sleeve, strode up the aisle. His presence embarassed the women and girls; especially by intense vigour of his steps and the seriousness upon his face. He felt his movement challenging through, with women on either side of the aisle. Passing on through the chancel arch he never paused, and came close to the altar railing. Here, he stood for a moment. The deacon who had not yet took off his vestment saw the new comer and followed him to the communion rail. He whispered to the soldier and then beckoned to the ...