by Thomas Hardy
Later in the day Sam, the turf-cutter, entered. "I've comea-borrowing, Mrs. Yeobright. I suppose you have heard what's beenhappening to the beauty on the hill?"
"Yes, Sam: half a dozen have been telling us."
"Beauty?" said Clym.
"Yes, tolerably well-favoured," Sam replied. "Lord! all the countryowns that 'tis one of the strangest things in the world that such awoman should have come to live up there."
"Dark or fair?"
"Now, though I've seen her twenty times, that's a thing I cannot callto mind."
"Darker than Tamsin," murmured Mrs. Yeobright.
"A woman who seems to care for nothing at all, as you may say."
"She is melancholy, then?" inquired Clym.
"She mopes about by herself, and don't mix in with the people."
"Is she a young lady inclined for adventures?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Doesn't join in with the lads in their games, to get some sort ofexcitement in this lonely place?"
"No."
"Mumming, for instance?"
"No. Her notions be different. I should rather say her thoughts werefar away from here, with lords and ladies she'll never know, andmansions she'll never see again."
Observing that Clym appeared singularly interested Mrs. Yeobright saidrather uneasily to Sam, "You see more in her than most of us do. MissVye is to my mind too idle to be charming. I have never heard thatshe is of any use to herself or to other people. Good girls don't gettreated as witches even on Egdon."
"Nonsense--that proves nothing either way," said Yeobright.
"Well, of course I don't understand such niceties," said Sam,withdrawing from a possibly unpleasant argument; "and what she is wemust wait for time to tell us. The business that I have really calledabout is this, to borrow the longest and strongest rope you have. Thecaptain's bucket has dropped into the well, and they are in want ofwater; and as all the chaps are at home today we think we can get itout for him. We have three cart-ropes already, but they won't reachto the bottom."
Mrs. Yeobright told him that he might have whatever ropes he couldfind in the outhouse, and Sam went out to search. When he passed bythe door Clym joined him, and accompanied him to the gate.
"Is this young witch-lady going to stay long at Mistover?" he asked.
"I should say so."
"What a cruel shame to ill-use her, She must have sufferedgreatly--more in mind than in body."
"'Twas a graceless trick--such a handsome girl, too. You ought to seeher, Mr. Yeobright, being a young man come from far, and with a littlemore to show for your years than most of us."
"Do you think she would like to teach children?" said Clym.
Sam shook his head. "Quite a different sort of body from that, Ireckon."
"O, it was merely something which occurred to me. It would of coursebe necessary to see her and talk it over--not an easy thing, by theway, for my family and hers are not very friendly."
"I'll tell you how you mid see her, Mr. Yeobright," said Sam. "We aregoing to grapple for the bucket at six o'clock tonight at her house,and you could lend a hand. There's five or six coming, but the well isdeep, and another might be useful, if you don't mind appearing in thatshape. She's sure to be walking round."
"I'll think of it," said Yeobright; and they parted.
He thought of it a good deal; but nothing more was said about Eustaciainside the house at that time. Whether this romantic martyr tosuperstition and the melancholy mummer he had conversed with under thefull moon were one and the same person remained as yet a problem.
