The inscription ran thus:
In memory of John Durbeyfield, rightly d'Urberville, of
the once powerful family of that Name, and Direct
Descendant through an illustrious Line from Sir Pagan
d'Urberville, one of the Knights of the Conqueror. Died
March 10th, 18-HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN.
Some man, apparently the sexton, had observed Clare standing there,
and drew nigh. "Ah, sir, now that's a man who didn't want to lie
here, but wished to be carried to Kingsbere, where his ancestors be."
"And why didn't they respect his wish?"
"Oh--no money. Bless your soul, sir, why--there, I wouldn't wish to
say it everywhere, but--even this headstone, for all the flourish
wrote upon en, is not paid for."
"Ah, who put it up?" T
he man told the name of a mason in the village, and, on leaving the
churchyard, Clare called at the mason's house. He found that the
statement was true, and paid the bill. This done, he turned in the
direction of the migrants.
The distance was too long for a walk, but Clare felt such a strong
desire for isolation that at first he would neither hire a conveyance
nor go to a circuitous line of railway by which he might eventually
reach the place. At Shaston, however, he found he must hire; but
the way was such that he did not enter Joan's place till about seven
o'clock in the evening, having traversed a distance of over twenty
miles since leaving Marlott. The village being small he had little difficulty in finding Mrs
Durbeyfield's tenement, which was a house in a walled garden,
remote from the main road, where she had stowed away her clumsy old
furniture as best she could. It was plain that for some reason or
other she had not wished him to visit her, and he felt his call to
be somewhat of an intrusion. She came to the door herself, and the
light from the evening sky fell upon her face.
This was the first time that Clare had ever met her, but he was too
preoccupied to observe more than that she was still a handsome woman,
in the garb of a respectable widow. He was obliged to explain that
he was Tess's husband, and his object in coming there, and he did it
awkwardly enough. "I want to see her at once," he added. "You said
you would write to me again, but you have not done so."
"Because she've not come home," said Joan. "Do you know if she is well?"
"I don't. But you ought to, sir," said she. "I admit it. Where is she staying?"