Time passed on. Wildeve began to be as excited
as Christian himself. When commencing the game
his intention had been nothing further than a bitter
practical joke on Mrs. Yeobright. To win the money,
fairly or otherwise, and to hand it contemptuously
to Thomasin in her aunt’s presence, had been
the dim outline of his purpose. But men are drawn
from their intentions even in the course of carrying
them out, and it was extremely doubtful, by the time
the twentieth guinea had been reached, whether Wildeve
was conscious of any other intention than that of
winning for his own personal benefit. Moreover,
he was now no longer gambling for his wife’s
money, but for Yeobright’s; though of this fact
Christian, in his apprehensiveness, did not inform
him till afterwards.
It was nearly eleven o’clock, when, with almost
a shriek, Christian placed Yeobright’s last
gleaming guinea upon the stone. In thirty seconds
it had gone the way of its companions.
Christian turned and flung himself on the ferns in
a convulsion of remorse, “O, what shall I do
with my wretched self?” he groaned. “What
shall I do? Will any good Heaven hae mercy upon
my wicked soul?”
“Do? Live on just the same.”
“I won’t live on just the same! I’ll
die! I say you are a—a—”
“A man sharper than my neighbour.”
“Yes, a man sharper than my neighbour; a regular
sharper!”
“Poor chips-in-porridge, you are very unmannerly.”
“I don’t know about that! And I say
you be unmannerly! You’ve got money that
isn’t your own. Half the guineas are poor
Mr. Clym’s.”
“How’s that?”
“Because I had to gie fifty of ’em to
him. Mrs. Yeobright said so.”
“Oh?... Well, ’twould have been more
graceful of her to have given them to his wife Eustacia.
But they are in my hands now.”
Christian pulled on his boots, and with heavy breathings,
which could be heard to some distance, dragged his
limbs together, arose, and tottered away out of sight.
Wildeve set about shutting the lantern to return to
the house, for he deemed it too late to go to Mistover
to meet his wife, who was to be driven home in the
captain’s four-wheel. While he was closing
the little horn door a figure rose from behind a neighbouring
bush and came forward into the lantern light.
It was the reddleman approaching.
A New Force Disturbs the Current
Wildeve stared. Venn looked coolly towards Wildeve,
and, without a word being spoken, he deliberately
sat himself down where Christian had been seated,
thrust his hand into his pocket, drew out a sovereign,
and laid it on the stone.
“You have been watching us from behind that
bush?” said Wildeve.
The reddleman nodded. “Down with your stake,”
he said. “Or haven’t you pluck enough
to go on?”
Now, gambling is a species of amusement which is much
more easily begun with full pockets than left off
with the same; and though Wildeve in a cooler temper
might have prudently declined this invitation, the
excitement of his recent success carried him completely
away. He placed one of the guineas on a slab beside
the reddleman’s sovereign. “Mine
is a guinea,” he said.
