Tess of the dUrbervilles - Page 227/283

Tess uttered a short little "Oh!" And a moment after she said,

quickly, "I shall eat my dinner here--right on the rick."

Sometimes, when they were so far from their cottages, they all did

this; but as there was rather a keen wind going to-day, Marian and

the rest descended, and sat under the straw-stack.

The newcomer was, indeed, Alec d'Urberville, the late Evangelist,

despite his changed attire and aspect. It was obvious at a glance

that the original Weltlust had come back; that he had restored

himself, as nearly as a man could do who had grown three or four

years older, to the old jaunty, slapdash guise under which Tess

had first known her admirer, and cousin so-called. Having decided

to remain where she was, Tess sat down among the bundles, out of

sight of the ground, and began her meal; till, by-and-by, she heard

footsteps on the ladder, and immediately after Alec appeared upon the

stack--now an oblong and level platform of sheaves. He strode across

them, and sat down opposite of her without a word.

Tess continued to eat her modest dinner, a slice of thick pancake

which she had brought with her. The other workfolk were by this

time all gathered under the rick, where the loose straw formed a

comfortable retreat. "I am here again, as you see," said d'Urberville.

"Why do you trouble me so!" she cried, reproach flashing from her

very finger-ends. "I trouble YOU? I think I may ask, why do you trouble me?"

"Sure, I don't trouble you any-when!"

"You say you don't? But you do! You haunt me. Those very eyes that

you turned upon my with such a bitter flash a moment ago, they come

to me just as you showed them then, in the night and in the day!

Tess, ever since you told me of that child of ours, it is just as if

my feelings, which have been flowing in a strong puritanical stream,

had suddenly found a way open in the direction of you, and had all at

once gushed through. The religious channel is left dry forthwith;

and it is you who have done it!" She gazed in silence.

"What--you have given up your preaching entirely?" she asked. She

had gathered from Angel sufficient of the incredulity of modern

thought to despise flash enthusiasm; but, as a woman, she was

somewhat appalled. In affected severity d'Urberville continued-

"Entirely. I have broken every engagement since that afternoon I was

to address the drunkards at Casterbridge Fair. The deuce only knows

what I am thought of by the brethren. Ah-ha! The brethren! No

doubt they pray for me--weep for me; for they are kind people in

their way. But what do I care? How could I go on with the thing

when I had lost my faith in it?--it would have been hypocrisy of

the basest kind! Among them I should have stood like Hymenaeus and

Alexander, who were delivered over to Satan that they might learn

not to blaspheme. What a grand revenge you have taken! I saw you

innocent, and I deceived you. Four years after, you find me a

Christian enthusiast; you then work upon me, perhaps to my complete

perdition! But Tess, my coz, as I used to call you, this is only

my way of talking, and you must not look so horribly concerned.

Of course you have done nothing except retain your pretty face and

shapely figure. I saw it on the rick before you saw me--that tight

pinafore-thing sets it off, and that wing-bonnet--you field-girls

should never wear those bonnets if you wish to keep out of danger."

He regarded her silently for a few moments, and with a short cynical

laugh resumed: "I believe that if the bachelor-apostle, whose deputy

I thought I was, had been tempted by such a pretty face, he would

have let go the plough for her sake as I do!"