Tess of the dUrbervilles - Page 2/283

I

On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking

homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining

Vale of Blakemore, or Blackmoor. The pair of legs that carried him

were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him

somewhat to the left of a straight line. He occasionally gave a

smart nod, as if in confirmation of some opinion, though he was not

thinking of anything in particular. An empty egg-basket was slung

upon his arm, the nap of his hat was ruffled, a patch being quite

worn away at its brim where his thumb came in taking it off.

Presently he was met by an elderly parson astride on a gray mare,

who, as he rode, hummed a wandering tune.

"Good night t'ee," said the man with the basket.

"Good night, Sir John," said the parson.

The pedestrian, after another pace or two, halted, and turned round.

"Now, sir, begging your pardon; we met last market-day on this road

about this time, and I said 'Good night,' and you made reply 'Good

night, Sir John,' as now."

"I did," said the parson.

"And once before that--near a month ago."

"I may have."

"Then what might your meaning be in calling me 'Sir John' these

different times, when I be plain Jack Durbeyfield, the haggler?"

The parson rode a step or two nearer.

"It was only my whim," he said; and, after a moment's hesitation: "It

was on account of a discovery I made some little time ago, whilst I

was hunting up pedigrees for the new county history. I am Parson

Tringham, the antiquary, of Stagfoot Lane. Don't you really know,

Durbeyfield, that you are the lineal representative of the ancient

and knightly family of the d'Urbervilles, who derive their descent

from Sir Pagan d'Urberville, that renowned knight who came from

Normandy with William the Conqueror, as appears by Battle Abbey

Roll?" "Never heard it before, sir!"

"Well it's true. Throw up your chin a moment, so that I may catch

the profile of your face better. Yes, that's the d'Urberville nose

and chin--a little debased. Your ancestor was one of the twelve

knights who assisted the Lord of Estremavilla in Normandy in his

conquest of Glamorganshire. Branches of your family held manors over

all this part of England; their names appear in the Pipe Rolls in the

time of King Stephen. In the reign of King John one of them was rich

enough to give a manor to the Knights Hospitallers; and in Edward the

Second's time your forefather Brian was summoned to Westminster to

attend the great Council there. You declined a little in Oliver

Cromwell's time, but to no serious extent, and in Charles the

Second's reign you were made Knights of the Royal Oak for your

loyalty. Aye, there have been generations of Sir Johns among

you, and if knighthood were hereditary, like a baronetcy, as it

practically was in old times, when men were knighted from father

to son, you would be Sir John now."