Two on a Tower

by Thomas Hardy

  XXIII

  Swithin could not sleep that night for thinking of his Viviette. Nothingtold so significantly of the conduct of her first husband towards thepoor lady as the abiding dread of him which was revealed in her by anysudden revival of his image or memory. But for that consideration heralmost childlike terror at Swithin's inadvertent disguise would have beenludicrous.

  He waited anxiously through several following days for an opportunity ofseeing her, but none was afforded. Her brother's presence in the housesufficiently accounted for this. At length he ventured to write a note,requesting her to signal to him in a way she had done once or twicebefore,--by pulling down a blind in a particular window of the house, oneof the few visible from the top of the Rings-Hill column; this to be doneon any evening when she could see him after dinner on the terrace.

  When he had levelled the glass at that window for five successive nightshe beheld the blind in the position suggested. Three hours later, quitein the dusk, he repaired to the place of appointment.

  'My brother is away this evening,' she explained, 'and that's why I cancome out. He is only gone for a few hours, nor is he likely to go forlonger just yet. He keeps himself a good deal in my company, which hasmade it unsafe for me to venture near you.'

  'Has he any suspicion?'

  'None, apparently. But he rather depresses me.'

  'How, Viviette?' Swithin feared, from her manner, that this wassomething serious.

  'I would rather not tell.'

  'But--Well, never mind.'

  'Yes, Swithin, I will tell you. There should be no secrets between us.He urges upon me the necessity of marrying, day after day.'

  'For money and position, of course.'

  'Yes. But I take no notice. I let him go on.'

  'Really, this is sad!' said the young man. 'I must work harder thanever, or you will never be able to own me.'

  'O yes, in good time!' she cheeringly replied.

  'I shall be very glad to have you always near me. I felt the gloom ofour position keenly when I was obliged to disappear that night, withoutassuring you it was only I who stood there. Why were you so frightenedat those old clothes I borrowed?'

  'Don't ask,--don't ask!' she said, burying her face on his shoulder. 'Idon't want to speak of that. There was something so ghastly and souncanny in your putting on such garments that I wish you had been morethoughtful, and had left them alone.'

  He assured her that he did not stop to consider whose they were. 'By theway, they must be sent back,' he said.

  'No; I never wish to see them again! I cannot help feeling that yourputting them on was ominous.'

  'Nothing is ominous in serene philosophy,' he said, kissing her. 'Thingsare either causes, or they are not causes. When can you see me again?'

  In such wise the hour passed away. The evening was typical of otherswhich followed it at irregular intervals through the winter. And duringthe intenser months of the season frequent falls of snow lengthened, evenmore than other difficulties had done, the periods of isolation betweenthe pair. Swithin adhered with all the more strictness to the letter ofhis promise not to intrude into the house, from his sense of herpowerlessness to compel him to keep out should he choose to rebel. Astudent of the greatest forces in nature, he had, like many others of hissort, no personal force to speak of in a social point of view, mainlybecause he took no interest in human ranks and formulas; and hence he wasas docile as a child in her hands wherever matters of that kind wereconcerned.

  Her brother wintered at Welland; but whether because his experience oftropic climes had unfitted him for the brumal rigours of Britain, or forsome other reason, he seldom showed himself out of doors, and Swithincaught but passing glimpses of him. Now and then Viviette's impulsiveaffection would overcome her sense of risk, and she would press Swithinto call on her at all costs. This he would by no means do. It wasobvious to his more logical mind that the secrecy to which they had boundthemselves must be kept in its fulness, or might as well be abandonedaltogether.

  He was now sadly exercised on the subject of his uncle's will. There hadas yet been no pressing reasons for a full and candid reply to thesolicitor who had communicated with him, owing to the fact that thepayments were not to begin till Swithin was one-and-twenty; but time wasgoing on, and something definite would have to be done soon. To own tohis marriage and consequent disqualification for the bequest was easy initself; but it involved telling at least one man what both Viviette andhimself had great reluctance in telling anybody. Moreover he wishedViviette to know nothing of his loss in making her his wife. All hecould think of doing for the present was to write a postponing letter tohis uncle's lawyer, and wait events.

  The one comfort of this dreary winter-time was his perception of areturning ability to work with the regularity and much of the spirit ofearlier days.

  * * * * *

  One bright night in April there was an eclipse of the moon, and Mr.Torkingham, by arrangement, brought to the observatory several labouringmen and boys, to whom he had promised a sight of the phenomenon throughthe telescope. The coming confirmation, fixed for May, was again talkedof; and St. Cleeve learnt from the parson that the Bishop had arranged tostay the night at the vicarage, and was to be invited to a grand luncheonat Welland House immediately after the ordinance.

  This seemed like a going back into life again as regarded the mistress ofthat house; and St. Cleeve was a little surprised that, in hiscommunications with Viviette, she had mentioned no such probability. Thenext day he walked round the mansion, wondering how in its present stateany entertainment could be given therein.

  He found that the shutters had been opened, which had restored anunexpected liveliness to the aspect of the windows. Two men were puttinga chimney-pot on one of the chimney-stacks, and two more were scrapinggreen mould from the front wall. He made no inquiries on that occasion.Three days later he strolled thitherward again. Now a great cleaning ofwindow-panes was going on, Hezzy Biles and Sammy Blore being theoperators, for which purpose their services must have been borrowed fromthe neighbouring farmer. Hezzy dashed water at the glass with a forcethat threatened to break it in, the broad face of Sammy being discernibleinside, smiling at the onset. In addition to these, Anthony Green andanother were weeding the gravel walks, and putting fresh plants into theflower-beds. Neither of these reasonable operations was a greatundertaking, singly looked at; but the life Viviette had latterly led andthe mood in which she had hitherto regarded the premises, rendered itsomewhat significant. Swithin, however, was rather curious thanconcerned at the proceedings, and returned to his tower with feelings ofinterest not entirely confined to the worlds overhead.

  Lady Constantine may or may not have seen him from the house; but thesame evening, which was fine and dry, while he was occupying himself inthe observatory with cleaning the eye-pieces of the equatorial, skull-capon head, observing-jacket on, and in other ways primed for sweeping, thecustomary stealthy step on the winding staircase brought her form in duecourse into the rays of the bull's-eye lantern. The meeting was all themore pleasant to him from being unexpected, and he at once lit up alarger lamp in honour of the occasion.

  'It is but a hasty visit,' she said when, after putting up her mouth tobe kissed, she had seated herself in the low chair used for observations,panting a little with the labour of ascent. 'But I hope to be able tocome more freely soon. My brother is still living on with me. Yes, heis going to stay until the confirmation is over. After the confirmationhe will certainly leave. So good it is of you, dear, to please me byagreeing to the ceremony. The Bishop, you know, is going to lunch withus. It is a wonder he has promised to come, for he is a man averse tosociety, and mostly keeps entirely with the clergy on these confirmationtours, or circuits, or whatever they call them. But Mr. Torkingham'shouse is so very small, and mine is so close at hand, that thisarrangement to relieve him of the fuss of one meal, at least, naturallysuggested itself; and the Bishop has fallen in with it very readily. Howa
re you getting on with your observations? Have you not wanted medreadfully, to write down notes?'

  'Well, I have been obliged to do without you, whether or no. Seehere,--how much I have done.' And he showed her a book ruled in columns,headed 'Object,' 'Right Ascension,' 'Declination,' 'Features,' 'Remarks,'and so on.

  She looked over this and other things, but her mind speedily winged itsway back to the confirmation. 'It is so new to me,' she said, 'to havepersons coming to the house, that I feel rather anxious. I hope theluncheon will be a success.'

  'You know the Bishop?' said Swithin.

  'I have not seen him for many years. I knew him when I was quite a girl,and he held the little living of Puddle-sub-Mixen, near us; but afterthat time, and ever since I have lived here, I have seen nothing of him.There has been no confirmation in this village, they say, for twentyyears. The other bishop used to make the young men and women go toWarborne; he wouldn't take the trouble to come to such an out-of-the-wayparish as ours.'

  'This cleaning and preparation that I observe going on must be rather atax upon you?'

  'My brother Louis sees to it, and, what is more, bears the expense.'

  'Your brother?' said Swithin, with surprise.

  'Well, he insisted on doing so,' she replied, in a hesitating, despondenttone. 'He has been active in the whole matter, and was the first tosuggest the invitation. I should not have thought of it.'

  'Well, I will hold aloof till it is all over.'

  'Thanks, dearest, for your considerateness. I wish it was not stilladvisable! But I shall see you on the day, and watch my own philosopherall through the service from the corner of my pew! . . . I hope you arewell prepared for the rite, Swithin?' she added, turning tenderly to him.'It would perhaps be advisable for you to give up this astronomy till theconfirmation is over, in order to devote your attention exclusively tothat more serious matter.'

  'More serious! Well, I will do the best I can. I am sorry to see thatyou are less interested in astronomy than you used to be, Viviette.'

  'No; it is only that these preparations for the Bishop unsettle my mindfrom study. Now put on your other coat and hat, and come with me alittle way.'