The Return of the Native

by Thomas Hardy

  VI

  The Two Stand Face to Face

  The room had been arranged with a view to the dancing, the largeoak table having been moved back till it stood as a breastwork tothe fireplace. At each end, behind, and in the chimney-corner weregrouped the guests, many of them being warm-faced and panting, amongwhom Eustacia cursorily recognized some well-to-do persons frombeyond the heath. Thomasin, as she had expected, was not visible, andEustacia recollected that a light had shone from an upper window whenthey were outside--the window, probably, of Thomasin's room. A nose,chin, hands, knees, and toes projected from the seat within thechimney opening, which members she found to unite in the person ofGrandfer Cantle, Mrs. Yeobright's occasional assistant in the garden,and therefore one of the invited. The smoke went up from an Etna ofpeat in front of him, played round the notches of the chimney-crook,struck against the saltbox, and got lost among the flitches.

  Another part of the room soon riveted her gaze. At the other side ofthe chimney stood the settle, which is the necessary supplement to afire so open that nothing less than a strong breeze will carry up thesmoke. It is, to the hearths of old-fashioned cavernous fireplaces,what the east belt of trees is to the exposed country estate, or thenorth wall to the garden. Outside the settle candles gutter, locksof hair wave, young women shiver, and old men sneeze. Inside isParadise. Not a symptom of a draught disturbs the air; the sitters'backs are as warm as their faces, and songs and old tales are drawnfrom the occupants by the comfortable heat, like fruit from melonplants in a frame.

  It was, however, not with those who sat in the settle that Eustaciawas concerned. A face showed itself with marked distinctness againstthe dark-tanned wood of the upper part. The owner, who was leaningagainst the settle's outer end, was Clement Yeobright, or Clym, ashe was called here; she knew it could be nobody else. The spectacleconstituted an area of two feet in Rembrandt's intensest manner. Astrange power in the lounger's appearance lay in the fact that, thoughhis whole figure was visible, the observer's eye was only aware of hisface.

  To one of middle age the countenance was that of a young man, though ayouth might hardly have seen any necessity for the term of immaturity.But it was really one of those faces which convey less the idea of somany years as its age than of so much experience as its store. Thenumber of their years may have adequately summed up Jared, Mahalaleel,and the rest of the antediluvians, but the age of a modern man is tobe measured by the intensity of his history.

  The face was well shaped, even excellently. But the mind within wasbeginning to use it as a mere waste tablet whereon to trace itsidiosyncrasies as they developed themselves. The beauty here visiblewould in no long time be ruthlessly over-run by its parasite, thought,which might just as well have fed upon a plainer exterior where therewas nothing it could harm. Had Heaven preserved Yeobright from awearing habit of meditation, people would have said, "A handsome man."Had his brain unfolded under sharper contours they would have said, "Athoughtful man." But an inner strenuousness was preying upon an outersymmetry, and they rated his look as singular.

  Hence people who began by beholding him ended by perusing him.His countenance was overlaid with legible meanings. Without beingthought-worn he yet had certain marks derived from a perception of hissurroundings, such as are not unfrequently found on men at the end ofthe four or five years of endeavour which follow the close of placidpupilage. He already showed that thought is a disease of flesh, andindirectly bore evidence that ideal physical beauty is incompatiblewith emotional development and a full recognition of the coil ofthings. Mental luminousness must be fed with the oil of life, eventhough there is already a physical need for it; and the pitiful sightof two demands on one supply was just showing itself here.

  When standing before certain men the philosopher regrets that thinkersare but perishable tissue, the artist that perishable tissue has tothink. Thus to deplore, each from his point of view, the mutuallydestructive interdependence of spirit and flesh would have beeninstinctive with these in critically observing Yeobright.

  As for his look, it was a natural cheerfulness striving againstdepression from without, and not quite succeeding. The look suggestedisolation, but it revealed something more. As is usual with brightnatures, the deity that lies ignominiously chained within an ephemeralhuman carcase shone out of him like a ray.

  The effect upon Eustacia was palpable. The extraordinary pitch ofexcitement that she had reached beforehand would, indeed, have causedher to be influenced by the most commonplace man. She was troubled atYeobright's presence.

  The remainder of the play ended: the Saracen's head was cut off, andSaint George stood as victor. Nobody commented, any more than theywould have commented on the fact of mushrooms coming in autumn orsnowdrops in spring. They took the piece as phlegmatically as did theactors themselves. It was a phase of cheerfulness which was, as amatter of course, to be passed through every Christmas; and there wasno more to be said.

  They sang the plaintive chant which follows the play, during which allthe dead men rise to their feet in a silent and awful manner, likethe ghosts of Napoleon's soldiers in the Midnight Review. Afterwardsthe door opened, and Fairway appeared on the threshold, accompaniedby Christian and another. They had been waiting outside for theconclusion of the play, as the players had waited for the conclusionof the dance.

  "Come in, come in," said Mrs. Yeobright; and Clym went forward towelcome them. "How is it you are so late? Grandfer Cantle has beenhere ever so long, and we thought you'd have come with him, as youlive so near one another."

  "Well, I should have come earlier," Mr. Fairway said, and paused tolook along the beam of the ceiling for a nail to hang his hat on; but,finding his accustomed one to be occupied by the mistletoe, and allthe nails in the walls to be burdened with bunches of holly, he atlast relieved himself of the hat by ticklishly balancing it betweenthe candlebox and the head of the clock-case. "I should have comeearlier, ma'am," he resumed, with a more composed air, "but I knowwhat parties be, and how there's none too much room in folks' housesat such times, so I thought I wouldn't come till you'd got settled abit."

  "And I thought so too, Mrs. Yeobright," said Christian earnestly, "butfather there was so eager that he had no manners at all, and left homealmost afore 'twas dark. I told him 'twas barely decent in a' old manto come so oversoon; but words be wind."

  "Klk! I wasn't going to bide waiting about, till half the game wasover! I'm as light as a kite when anything's going on!" crowedGrandfer Cantle from the chimney-seat.

  Fairway had meanwhile concluded a critical gaze at Yeobright. "Now,you may not believe it," he said to the rest of the room, "but Ishould never have knowed this gentleman if I had met him anywhere offhis own he'th--he's altered so much."

  "You too have altered, and for the better, I think Timothy," saidYeobright, surveying the firm figure of Fairway.

  "Master Yeobright, look me over too. I have altered for the better,haven't I, hey?" said Grandfer Cantle, rising and placing himselfsomething above half a foot from Clym's eye, to induce the mostsearching criticism.

  "To be sure we will," said Fairway, taking the candle and moving itover the surface of the Grandfer's countenance, the subject of hisscrutiny irradiating himself with light and pleasant smiles, andgiving himself jerks of juvenility.

  "You haven't changed much," said Yeobright.

  "If there's any difference, Grandfer is younger," appended Fairwaydecisively.

  "And yet not my own doing, and I feel no pride in it," said thepleased ancient. "But I can't be cured of my vagaries; them I pleadguilty to. Yes, Master Cantle always was that, as we know. But I amnothing by the side of you, Mister Clym."

  "Nor any o' us," said Humphrey, in a low rich tone of admiration, notintended to reach anybody's ears.

  "Really, there would have been nobody here who could have stood asdecent second to him, or even third, if I hadn't been a soldier in theBang-up Locals (as we was called for our smartness)," said GrandferCantle. "And even as 'tis we all look a little scammish bes
ide him.But in the year four 'twas said there wasn't a finer figure inthe whole South Wessex than I, as I looked when dashing past theshop-winders with the rest of our company on the day we ran out o'Budmouth because it was thoughted that Boney had landed round thepoint. There was I, straight as a young poplar, wi' my firelock, andmy bag-net, and my spatter-dashes, and my stock sawing my jaws off,and my accoutrements sheening like the seven stars! Yes, neighbours,I was a pretty sight in my soldiering days. You ought to have seen mein four!"

  "'Tis his mother's side where Master Clym's figure comes from, blessye," said Timothy. "I know'd her brothers well. Longer coffins werenever made in the whole country of South Wessex, and 'tis said thatpoor George's knees were crumpled up a little e'en as 'twas."

  "Coffins, where?" inquired Christian, drawing nearer. "Have the ghostof one appeared to anybody, Master Fairway?"

  "No, no. Don't let your mind so mislead your ears, Christian; and bea man," said Timothy reproachfully.

  "I will." said Christian. "But now I think o't my shadder last nightseemed just the shape of a coffin. What is it a sign of when yourshade's like a coffin, neighbours? It can't be nothing to be afearedof, I suppose?"

  "Afeared, no!" said the Grandfer. "Faith, I was never afeard ofnothing except Boney, or I shouldn't ha' been the soldier I was. Yes,'tis a thousand pities you didn't see me in four!"

  By this time the mummers were preparing to leave; but Mrs. Yeobrightstopped them by asking them to sit down and have a little supper. Tothis invitation Father Christmas, in the name of them all, readilyagreed.

  Eustacia was happy in the opportunity of staying a little longer.The cold and frosty night without was doubly frigid to her. But thelingering was not without its difficulties. Mrs. Yeobright, for wantof room in the larger apartment, placed a bench for the mummershalf-way through the pantry door, which opened from the sitting-room.Here they seated themselves in a row, the door being left open: thusthey were still virtually in the same apartment. Mrs. Yeobrightnow murmured a few words to her son, who crossed the room to thepantry-door, striking his head against the mistletoe as he passed, andbrought the mummers beef and bread, cake pastry, mead, and elder-wine,the waiting being done by him and his mother, that the littlemaid-servant might sit as guest. The mummers doffed their helmets,and began to eat and drink.

  "But you will surely have some?" said Clym to the Turkish Knight,as he stood before that warrior, tray in hand. She had refused, andstill sat covered, only the sparkle of her eyes being visible betweenthe ribbons which covered her face.

  "None, thank you," replied Eustacia.

  "He's quite a youngster," said the Saracen apologetically, "and youmust excuse him. He's not one of the old set, but have jined usbecause t'other couldn't come."

  "But he will take something?" persisted Yeobright. "Try a glass ofmead or elder-wine."

  "Yes, you had better try that," said the Saracen. "It will keep thecold out going home-along."

  Though Eustacia could not eat without uncovering her face shecould drink easily enough beneath her disguise. The elder-wine wasaccordingly accepted, and the glass vanished inside the ribbons.

  At moments during this performance Eustacia was half in doubt aboutthe security of her position; yet it had a fearful joy. A series ofattentions paid to her, and yet not to her but to some imaginaryperson, by the first man she had ever been inclined to adore,complicated her emotions indescribably. She had loved him partlybecause he was exceptional in this scene, partly because she haddetermined to love him, chiefly because she was in desperate need ofloving somebody after wearying of Wildeve. Believing that she mustlove him in spite of herself, she had been influenced after thefashion of the second Lord Lyttleton and other persons, who havedreamed that they were to die on a certain day, and by stress of amorbid imagination have actually brought about that event. Once leta maiden admit the possibility of her being stricken with love forsome one at a certain hour and place, and the thing is as good asdone.

  Did anything at this moment suggest to Yeobright the sex of thecreature whom that fantastic guise inclosed, how extended was herscope both in feeling and in making others feel, and how far hercompass transcended that of her companions in the band? When thedisguised Queen of Love appeared before Aeneas a preternaturalperfume accompanied her presence and betrayed her quality. If such amysterious emanation ever was projected by the emotions of an earthlywoman upon their object, it must have signified Eustacia's presence toYeobright now. He looked at her wistfully, then seemed to fall intoa reverie, as if he were forgetting what he observed. The momentarysituation ended, he passed on, and Eustacia sipped her wine withoutknowing what she drank. The man for whom she had predetermined tonourish a passion went into the small room, and across it to thefurther extremity.

  The mummers, as has been stated, were seated on a bench, one end ofwhich extended into the small apartment, or pantry, for want of spacein the outer room. Eustacia, partly from shyness, had chosen themidmost seat, which thus commanded a view of the interior of thepantry as well as the room containing the guests. When Clym passeddown the pantry her eyes followed him in the gloom which prevailedthere. At the remote end was a door which, just as he was about toopen it for himself, was opened by somebody within; and light streamedforth.

  The person was Thomasin, with a candle, looking anxious, pale, andinteresting. Yeobright appeared glad to see her, and pressed herhand. "That's right, Tamsie," he said heartily, as though recalledto himself by the sight of her, "you have decided to come down. I amglad of it."

  "Hush--no, no," she said quickly. "I only came to speak to you."

  "But why not join us?"

  "I cannot. At least I would rather not. I am not well enough, and weshall have plenty of time together now you are going to be home a goodlong holiday."

  "It isn't nearly so pleasant without you. Are you really ill?"

  "Just a little, my old cousin--here," she said, playfully sweeping herhand across her heart.

  "Ah, mother should have asked somebody else to be present tonight,perhaps?"

  "O no, indeed. I merely stepped down, Clym, to ask you--" Here hefollowed her through the doorway into the private room beyond, and,the door closing, Eustacia and the mummer who sat next to her, theonly other witness of the performance, saw and heard no more.

  The heat flew to Eustacia's head and cheeks. She instantly guessedthat Clym, having been home only these two or three days, had not asyet been made acquainted with Thomasin's painful situation with regardto Wildeve; and seeing her living there just as she had been livingbefore he left home, he naturally suspected nothing. Eustacia felta wild jealousy of Thomasin on the instant. Though Thomasin mightpossibly have tender sentiments towards another man as yet, how longcould they be expected to last when she was shut up here with thisinteresting and travelled cousin of hers? There was no knowing whataffection might not soon break out between the two, so constantlyin each other's society, and not a distracting object near. Clym'sboyish love for her might have languished, but it might easily berevived again.

  Eustacia was nettled by her own contrivances. What a sheer waste ofherself to be dressed thus while another was shining to advantage! Hadshe known the full effect of the encounter she would have moved heavenand earth to get here in a natural manner. The power of her face alllost, the charm of her emotions all disguised, the fascinations of hercoquetry denied existence, nothing but a voice left to her; she had asense of the doom of Echo. "Nobody here respects me," she said. Shehad overlooked the fact that, in coming as a boy among other boys, shewould be treated as a boy. The slight, though of her own causing, andself-explanatory, she was unable to dismiss as unwittingly shown, sosensitive had the situation made her.

  Women have done much for themselves in histrionic dress. To look farbelow those who, like a certain fair personator of Polly Peachum earlyin the last century, and another of Lydia Languish early in this, havewon not only love but ducal coronets into the bargain, whole shoals ofthem have reached to the initial satisfaction of getting
love almostwhence they would. But the Turkish Knight was denied even the chanceof achieving this by the fluttering ribbons which she dared not brushaside.

  Yeobright returned to the room without his cousin. When within two orthree feet of Eustacia he stopped, as if again arrested by a thought.He was gazing at her. She looked another way, disconcerted, andwondered how long this purgatory was to last. After lingering a fewseconds he passed on again.

  To court their own discomfiture by love is a common instinct withcertain perfervid women. Conflicting sensations of love, fear, andshame reduced Eustacia to a state of the utmost uneasiness. To escapewas her great and immediate desire. The other mummers appeared to bein no hurry to leave; and murmuring to the lad who sat next to herthat she preferred waiting for them outside the house, she moved tothe door as imperceptibly as possible, opened it, and slipped out.

  The calm, lone scene reassured her. She went forward to the palingsand leant over them, looking at the moon. She had stood thus but alittle time when the door again opened. Expecting to see the remainderof the band Eustacia turned; but no--Clym Yeobright came out as softlyas she had done, and closed the door behind him.

  He advanced and stood beside her. "I have an odd opinion," he said,"and should like to ask you a question. Are you a woman--or am Iwrong?"

  "I am a woman."

  His eyes lingered on her with great interest. "Do girls often play asmummers now? They never used to."

  "They don't now."

  "Why did you?"

  "To get excitement and shake off depression," she said in low tones.

  "What depressed you?"

  "Life."

  "That's a cause of depression a good many have to put up with."

  "Yes."

  A long silence. "And do you find excitement?" asked Clym at last.

  "At this moment, perhaps."

  "Then you are vexed at being discovered?"

  "Yes; though I thought I might be."

  "I would gladly have asked you to our party had I known you wished tocome. Have I ever been acquainted with you in my youth?"

  "Never."

  "Won't you come in again, and stay as long as you like?"

  "No. I wish not to be further recognized."

  "Well, you are safe with me." After remaining in thought a minute headded gently, "I will not intrude upon you longer. It is a strangeway of meeting, and I will not ask why I find a cultivated womanplaying such a part as this."

  She did not volunteer the reason which he seemed to hope for, andhe wished her good night, going thence round to the back of thehouse, where he walked up and down by himself for some time beforere-entering.

  Eustacia, warmed with an inner fire, could not wait for her companionsafter this. She flung back the ribbons from her face, opened thegate, and at once struck into the heath. She did not hasten along.Her grandfather was in bed at this hour, for she so frequently walkedupon the hills on moonlight nights that he took no notice of hercomings and goings, and, enjoying himself in his own way, left her todo likewise. A more important subject than that of getting indoorsnow engrossed her. Yeobright, if he had the least curiosity, wouldinfallibly discover her name. What then? She first felt a sort ofexultation at the way in which the adventure had terminated, eventhough at moments between her exultations she was abashed andblushful. Then this consideration recurred to chill her: What wasthe use of her exploit? She was at present a total stranger to theYeobright family. The unreasonable nimbus of romance with which shehad encircled that man might be her misery. How could she allowherself to become so infatuated with a stranger? And to fill thecup of her sorrow there would be Thomasin, living day after day ininflammable proximity to him; for she had just learnt that, contraryto her first belief, he was going to stay at home some considerabletime.