The Woodlanders - Page 118/314

"That was Giles," said Melbury, when they had gone by.

"Was it? Poor Giles," said she.

"All that blooth means heavy autumn work for him and his hands. If no

blight happens before the setting the apple yield will be such as we

have not had for years."

Meanwhile, in the wood they had come from, the men had sat on so long

that they were indisposed to begin work again that evening; they were

paid by the ton, and their time for labor was as they chose. They

placed the last gatherings of bark in rows for the curers, which led

them farther and farther away from the shed; and thus they gradually

withdrew as the sun went down.

Fitzpiers lingered yet. He had opened his book again, though he could

hardly see a word in it, and sat before the dying fire, scarcely

knowing of the men's departure. He dreamed and mused till his

consciousness seemed to occupy the whole space of the woodland around,

so little was there of jarring sight or sound to hinder perfect unity

with the sentiment of the place. The idea returned upon him of

sacrificing all practical aims to live in calm contentment here, and

instead of going on elaborating new conceptions with infinite pains, to

accept quiet domesticity according to oldest and homeliest notions.

These reflections detained him till the wood was embrowned with the

coming night, and the shy little bird of this dusky time had begun to

pour out all the intensity of his eloquence from a bush not very far

off.

Fitzpiers's eyes commanded as much of the ground in front as was open.

Entering upon this he saw a figure, whose direction of movement was

towards the spot where he sat. The surgeon was quite shrouded from

observation by the recessed shadow of the hut, and there was no reason

why he should move till the stranger had passed by. The shape resolved

itself into a woman's; she was looking on the ground, and walking

slowly as if searching for something that had been lost, her course

being precisely that of Mr. Melbury's gig. Fitzpiers by a sort of

divination jumped to the idea that the figure was Grace's; her nearer

approach made the guess a certainty.

Yes, she was looking for something; and she came round by the prostrate

trees that would have been invisible but for the white nakedness which

enabled her to avoid them easily. Thus she approached the heap of

ashes, and acting upon what was suggested by a still shining ember or

two, she took a stick and stirred the heap, which thereupon burst into

a flame. On looking around by the light thus obtained she for the

first time saw the illumined face of Fitzpiers, precisely in the spot

where she had left him.