还乡The Return Of The Native-第25节

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“Aunt；”　said　Thomasin；　with　round　eyes；　“what　DO　you　mean？”
“Don’t　be　alarmed；　it　was　my　duty。　　I　can　say　no　more　about　it　now；　but　when　it　is　over　I　will　tell　you　exactly　what　I　said；　and　why　I　said　it。”
Thomasin　was　perforce　content。　
“And　you　will　keep　the　secret　of　my　would…be　marriage　from　Clym　for　the　present？”　she　next　asked。　
“I　have　given　my　word　to。　　But　what　is　the　use　of　it？　　He　must　soon　know　what　has　happened。　　A　mere　look　at　your　face　will　show　him　that　something　is　wrong。”
Thomasin　turned　and　regarded　her　aunt　from　the　tree。　　“Now；　hearken　to　me；”　she　said；　her　delicate　voice　expanding　into　firmness　by　a　force　which　was　other　than　physical。　　“Tell　him　nothing。　　If　he　finds　out　that　I　am　not　worthy　to　be　his　cousin；　let　him。　　But；　since　he　loved　me　once；　we　will　not　pain　him　by　telling　him　my　trouble　too　soon。　　The　air　is　full　of　the　story；　I　know；　but　gossips　will　not　dare　to　speak　of　it　to　him　for　the　first　few　days。　　His　closeness　to　me　is　the　very　thing　that　will　hinder　the　tale　from　reaching　him　early。　　If　I　am　not　made　safe　from　sneers　in　a　week　or　two　I　will　tell　him　myself。”
The　earnestness　with　which　Thomasin　spoke　prevented　further　objections。　　Her　aunt　simply　said；　“Very　well。　　He　should　by　rights　have　been　told　at　the　time　that　the　wedding　was　going　to　be。　　He　will　never　forgive　you　for　your　secrecy。”
“Yes；　he　will；　when　he　knows　it　was　because　I　wished　to　spare　him；　and　that　I　did　not　expect　him　home　so　soon。
And　you　must　not　let　me　stand　in　the　way　of　your
Christmas　party。　　Putting　it　off　would　only　make　matters　worse。”
“Of　course　I　shall　not。　　I　do　not　wish　to　show　myself　beaten　before　all　Egdon；　and　the　sport　of　a　man　like　Wildeve。　　We　have　enough　berries　now；　I　think；　and　we　had　better　take　them　home。　　By　the　time　we　have　decked　the　house　with　this　and　hung　up　the　mistletoe；　we　must　think　of　starting　to　meet　him。”
Thomasin　came　out　of　the　tree；　shook　from　her　hair　and　dress　the　loose　berries　which　had　fallen　thereon；　and　went　down　the　hill　with　her　aunt；　each　woman　bearing　half　the　gathered　boughs。　　It　was　now　nearly　four　o’clock；　and　the　sunlight　was　leaving　the　vales。　　When　the　west　grew　red　the　two　relatives　came　again　from　the　house　and　plunged　into　the　heath　in　a　different　direction　from　the　first；　towards　a　point　in　the　distant　highway　along　which　the　expected　man　was　to　return。　


3　… How　a　Little　Sound　Produced　a　Great　Dream


Eustacia　stood　just　within　the　heath；　straining　her　eyes　in　the　direction　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　house　and　premises。　　No　light；　sound；　or　movement　was　perceptible　there。
The　evening　was　chilly；　the　spot　was　dark　and　lonely。　　She　inferred　that　the　guest　had　not　yet　e；　and　after　lingering　ten　or　fifteen　minutes　she　turned　again　towards　home。　
She　had　not　far　retraced　her　steps　when　sounds　in　front　of　her　betokened　the　approach　of　persons　in　conversation　along　the　same　path。　　Soon　their　heads　became　visible　against　the　sky。　　They　were　walking　slowly；　and　though　it　was　too　dark　for　much　discovery　of　character　from　aspect；　the　gait　of　them　showed　that　they　were　not　workers　on　the　heath。　　Eustacia　stepped　a　little　out　of　the　foot…track　to　let　them　pass。　　They　were　two　women　and　a　man；　and　the　voices　of　the　women　were　those　of　Mrs。　Yeobright　and　Thomasin。
They　went　by　her；　and　at　the　moment　of　passing　appeared　to　discern　her　dusky　form。　　There　came　to　her　ears　in　a　masculine　voice；　“Good　night！”
She　murmured　a　reply；　glided　by　them；　and　turned　round。　　She　could　not；　for　a　moment；　believe　that　chance；　unrequested；　had　brought　into　her　presence　the　soul　of　the　house　she　had　gone　to　inspect；　the　man　without　whom　her　inspection　would　not　have　been　thought　of。　
She　strained　her　eyes　to　see　them；　but　was　unable。　　Such　was　her　intentness；　however；　that　it　seemed　as　if　her　ears　were　performing　the　functions　of　seeing　as　well　as　hearing。　　This　extension　of　power　can　almost　be　believed　in　at　such　moments。　　The　deaf　Dr。　Kitto　was　probably　under　the　influence　of　a　parallel　fancy　when　he　described　his　body　as　having　bee；　by　long　endeavour；　so　sensitive　to　vibrations　that　he　had　gained　the　power　of　perceiving　by　it　as　by　ears。
She　could　follow　every　word　that　the　ramblers　uttered。　　They　were　talking　no　secrets。　　They　were　merely　indulging　in　the　ordinary　vivacious　chat　of　relatives　who　have　long　been　parted　in　person　though　not　in　soul。　　But　it　was　not　to　the　words　that　Eustacia　listened；　she　could　not　even　have　recalled；　a　few　minutes　later；　what　the　words　were。　　It　was　to　the　alternating　voice　that　gave　out　about　one…tenth　of　them—the　voice　that　had　wished　her　good　night。　　Sometimes　this　throat　uttered　Yes；　sometimes　it　uttered　No；　sometimes　it　made　inquiries　about　a　time　worn　denizen　of　the　place。　　Once　it　surprised　her　notions　by　remarking　upon　the　friendliness　and　geniality　written　in　the　faces　of　the　hills　around。　
The　three　voices　passed　on；　and　decayed　and　died　out　upon　her　ear。
Thus　much　had　been　granted　her；　and　all　besides　withheld。　　No　event　could　have　been　more　exciting。　　During　the　greater　part　of　the　afternoon　she　had　been　entrancing　herself　by　imagining　the　fascination　which　must　attend　a　man　e　direct　from　beautiful　Paris—laden　with　its　atmosphere；　familiar　with　its　charms。　　And　this　man　had　greeted　her。
With　the　departure　of　the　figures　the　profuse　articulations　of　the　women　wasted　away　from　her　memory；　but　the　accents　of　the　other　stayed　on。　　Was　there　anything　in　the　voice　of　Mrs。　Yeobright’s　son—for　Clym　it　was—startling　as　a　sound？　　No；　it　was　simply　prehensive。　　All　emotional　things　were　possible　to　the　speaker　of　that　“good　night。”　Eustacia’s　imagination　supplied　the　rest—except　the　solution　to　one　riddle。　　What　COULD　the　tastes　of　that　man　be　who　saw　friendliness　and　geniality　in　these　shaggy　hills？
On　such　occasions　as　this　a　thousand　ideas　pass　through　a　highly　charged　woman’s　head；　and　they　indicate　themselves　on　her　face；　but　the　changes；　though　actual；　are　minute。　　Eustacia’s　features　went　through　a　rhythmical　succession　of　them。　　She　glowed；　remembering　the　mendacity　of　the　imagination；　she　flagged；　then　she　freshened；　then　she　fired；　then　she　cooled　again。　　It　was　a　cycle　of　aspects；　produced　by　a　cycle　of　visions。　
Eustacia　entered　her　own　house；　she　was　excited。　　Her　grandfather　was　enjoying　himself　over　the　fire；　raking　about　the　ashes　and　exposing　the　red…hot　surface　of　the　turves；　so　that　their　lurid　glare　irradiated　the　chimney…corner　with　the　hues　of　a　furnace。　
“Why　is　it　that　we　are　never　friendly　with　the　Yeobrights？”　she　said；　ing　forward　and　stretching　her　soft　hands　over　the　warmth。　　“I　wish　we　were。　　They　seem　to　be　very　nice　people。”
“Be　hanged　if　I　know　why；”　said　the　captain。　　“I　liked　the　old　man　well　enough；　though　he　was　as　rough　as　a　hedge。　　But　you　would　never　have　cared　to　go　there；　even　if　you　might　have；　I　am　well　sure。”
“Why　shouldn’t　I？”
“Your　town　tastes　would　find　them　far　too　countrified。　　They　sit　in　the　kitchen；　drink　mead　and　elder…wine；　and　sand　the　floor　to　keep　it　clean。　　A　sensible　way　of　life；　but　how　would　you　like　it？”
“I　thought　Mrs。　Yeobright　was　a　ladylike　woman？
A　curate’s　daughter；　was　she　not？”
“Yes；　but　she　was　obliged　to　live　as　her　husband　did；　and　I　suppose　she　has　taken　kindly　to　it　by　this　time。　　Ah；　I　recollect　that　I　once　accidentally　offended　her；　and　I　have　never　seen　her　since。”
That　night　was　an　eventful　one　to　Eustacia’s　brain；　and　one　which　she　hardly　ever　forgot。　　She　dreamt　a　dream；　and　few　human　beings；　from　Nebuchadnezzar　to　the　Swaffham　tinker；　ever　dreamt　a　more　remarkable　one。　　Such　an　elaborately　developed；　perplexing；　exciting　dream　was　certainly　never　dreamed　by　a　girl　in　Eustacia’s　situation　before。　　It　had　as　many　ramifications　as　the　Cretan　labyrinth；　as　many　fluctuations　as　the　northern　lights；　as　much　colour　as　a　parterre　in　June；　and　was　as　crowded　with　figures　as　a　coronation。　　To　Queen　Scheherazade　the　dream　might　have　seemed　not　far　removed　from　monplace；　and　to　a　girl　just　returned　from　all　the　courts　of　Europe　it　might　have　seemed　not　more　than　interesting。　　But　amid　the　circumstances　of　Eustacia’s　life　it　was　as　wonderful　as　a　dream　could　be。　
There　was；　however；　gradually　evolved　from　its　transformation　scenes　a　less　extravagant　episode；　in　which　the　heath　dimly　appeared　behind　the　general　brilliancy　of　the　action。　　She　was　dancing　to　wondrous　music；　and　her　partner　was　the　man　in　silver　armour　who　had　acpanied　her　through　the　previous　fantastic　changes；　the　visor　of　his　helmet　being　closed。　　The　mazes　of　the　dance　were　ecstatic。　　Soft　whispering　came　into　her　ear　from　under　the　radiant　helmet；　and　she　felt　like　a　woman　in　Paradise。　　Suddenly　these　two　wheeled　out　from　the　mass　of　dancers；　dived　into　one　of　the　pools　of　the　heath；　and　came　out　somewhere　into　an　iridescent　hollow；　arched　with　rainbows。　　“It　must　be　here；”　said　the　voice　by　her　side；　and　blushingly　looking　up　she　saw　him　removing　his　casque　to　kiss　her。　　At　that　moment　there　was　a　cracking　noise；　and　his　figure　fell　into　fragments　like　a　pack　of　cards。
She　cried　aloud。　　“O　that　I　had　seen　his　face！”
Eustacia　awoke。　　The　cracking　had　been　that　of　the　window　shutter　downstairs；　which　the　maid…servant　was　opening　to　let　in　the　d