The Woodlanders - Page 297/314

The interval at last expired, and the eve of their departure arrived.

They were pausing in the room of the cottage allotted to them by Tim's

father, after a busy day of preparation, which left them weary. In a

corner stood their boxes, crammed and corded, their large case for the

hold having already been sent away. The firelight shone upon Suke's

fine face and form as she stood looking into it, and upon the face of

Tim seated in a corner, and upon the walls of his father's house, which

he was beholding that night almost for the last time.

Tim Tangs was not happy. This scheme of emigration was dividing him

from his father--for old Tangs would on no account leave Hintock--and

had it not been for Suke's reputation and his own dignity, Tim would at

the last moment have abandoned the project. As he sat in the back part

of the room he regarded her moodily, and the fire and the boxes. One

thing he had particularly noticed this evening--she was very restless;

fitful in her actions, unable to remain seated, and in a marked degree

depressed.

"Sorry that you be going, after all, Suke?" he said.

She sighed involuntarily. "I don't know but that I be," she answered.

"'Tis natural, isn't it, when one is going away?"

"But you wasn't born here as I was."

"No."

"There's folk left behind that you'd fain have with 'ee, I reckon?"

"Why do you think that?"

"I've seen things and I've heard things; and, Suke, I say 'twill be a

good move for me to get 'ee away. I don't mind his leavings abroad,

but I do mind 'em at home."

Suke's face was not changed from its aspect of listless indifference by

the words. She answered nothing; and shortly after he went out for his

customary pipe of tobacco at the top of the garden.

The restlessness of Suke had indeed owed its presence to the gentleman

of Tim's suspicions, but in a different--and it must be added in

justice to her--more innocent sense than he supposed, judging from

former doings. She had accidentally discovered that Fitzpiers was in

the habit of coming secretly once or twice a week to Hintock, and knew

that this evening was a favorite one of the seven for his journey. As

she was going next day to leave the country, Suke thought there could

be no great harm in giving way to a little sentimentality by obtaining

a glimpse of him quite unknown to himself or to anybody, and thus

taking a silent last farewell. Aware that Fitzpiers's time for passing

was at hand she thus betrayed her feeling. No sooner, therefore, had

Tim left the room than she let herself noiselessly out of the house,

and hastened to the corner of the garden, whence she could witness the

surgeon's transit across the scene--if he had not already gone by.