“Never mind that question, Grandfer. Stir
your stumps and get some more sticks. ’Tis
very nonsense of an old man to prattle so when life
and death’s in mangling.”
“Yes, yes,” said Grandfer Cantle, with
melancholy conviction. “Well, this is a
bad night altogether for them that have done well in
their time; and if I were ever such a dab at the hautboy
or tenor-viol, I shouldn’t have the heart to
play tunes upon ’em now.”
Susan now arrived with the frying-pan, when the live
adder was killed and the heads of the three taken
off. The remainders, being cut into lengths and
split open, were tossed into the pan, which began hissing
and crackling over the fire. Soon a rill of clear
oil trickled from the carcases, whereupon Clym dipped
the corner of his handkerchief into the liquid and
anointed the wound.
Eustacia Hears of Good Fortune, and Beholds Evil
In the meantime Eustacia, left alone in her cottage
at Alderworth, had become considerably depressed by
the posture of affairs. The consequences which
might result from Clym’s discovery that his mother
had been turned from his door that day were likely
to be disagreeable, and this was a quality in events
which she hated as much as the dreadful.
To be left to pass the evening by herself was irksome
to her at any time, and this evening it was more irksome
than usual by reason of the excitements of the past
hours. The two visits had stirred her into restlessness.
She was not wrought to any great pitch of uneasiness
by the probability of appearing in an ill light in
the discussion between Clym and his mother, but she
was wrought to vexation; and her slumbering activities
were quickened to the extent of wishing that she had
opened the door. She had certainly believed that
Clym was awake, and the excuse would be an honest
one as far as it went; but nothing could save her
from censure in refusing to answer at the first knock.
Yet, instead of blaming herself for the issue she laid
the fault upon the shoulders of some indistinct, colossal
Prince of the World, who had framed her situation
and ruled her lot.
At this time of the year it was pleasanter to walk
by night than by day, and when Clym had been absent
about an hour she suddenly resolved to go out in the
direction of Blooms-End, on the chance of meeting
him on his return. When she reached the garden
gate she heard wheels approaching, and looking round
beheld her grandfather coming up in his car.
“I can’t stay a minute, thank ye,”
he answered to her greeting. “I am driving
to East Egdon; but I came round here just to tell you
the news. Perhaps you have heard—about
Mr. Wildeve’s fortune?”
“No,” said Eustacia blankly.
“Well, he has come into a fortune of eleven
thousand pounds—uncle died in Canada, just
after hearing that all his family, whom he was sending
home, had gone to the bottom in the Cassiopeia;
so Wildeve has come into everything, without in the
least expecting it.”
