The wide acreage of blank agricultural brownness, apparent where
the swedes had been pulled, was beginning to be striped in wales of
darker brown, gradually broadening to ribands. Along the edge of
each of these something crept upon ten legs, moving without haste
and without rest up and down the whole length of the field; it was
two horses and a man, the plough going between them, turning up the
cleared ground for a spring sowing.
For hours nothing relieved the joyless monotony of things. Then, far
beyond the ploughing-teams, a black speck was seen. It had come from
the corner of a fence, where there was a gap, and its tendency was
up the incline, towards the swede-cutters. From the proportions of
a mere point it advanced to the shape of a ninepin, and was soon
perceived to be a man in black, arriving from the direction of
Flintcomb-Ash. The man at the slicer, having nothing else to do with
his eyes, continually observed the comer, but Tess, who was occupied,
did not perceive him till her companion directed her attention to his
approach. It was not her hard taskmaster, Farmer Groby; it was one in a
semi-clerical costume, who now represented what had once been the
free-and-easy Alec d'Urberville. Not being hot at his preaching
there was less enthusiasm about him now, and the presence of the
grinder seemed to embarrass him. A pale distress was already on
Tess's face, and she pulled her curtained hood further over it. D'Urberville came up and said quietly-"I want to speak to you, Tess."
"You have refused my last request, not to come near me!" said she. "Yes, but I have a good reason." "Well, tell it."
"It is more serious than you may think."
He glanced round to see if he were overheard. They were at some
distance from the man who turned the slicer, and the movement of the
machine, too, sufficiently prevented Alec's words reaching other
ears. D'Urberville placed himself so as to screen Tess from the
labourer, turning his back to the latter.
"It is this," he continued, with capricious compunction. "In
thinking of your soul and mine when we last met, I neglected to
inquire as to your worldly condition. You were well dressed, and I
did not think of it. But I see now that it is hard--harder than it
used to be when I--knew you--harder than you deserve. Perhaps a good
deal of it is owning to me!" She did not answer, and he watched her inquiringly, as, with bent
head, her face completely screened by the hood, she resumed her
trimming of the swedes. By going on with her work she felt better
able to keep him outside her emotions.