Tess of the dUrbervilles - Page 63/283

THY, DAMNATION, SLUMBERETH, NOT.

2 Pet. ii. 3.

Against the peaceful landscape, the pale, decaying tints of the

copses, the blue air of the horizon, and the lichened stile-boards,

these staring vermilion words shone forth. They seemed to shout

themselves out and make the atmosphere ring. Some people might have

cried "Alas, poor Theology!" at the hideous defacement--the last

grotesque phase of a creed which had served mankind well in its time.

But the words entered Tess with accusatory horror. It was as if this

man had known her recent history; yet he was a total stranger.

Having finished his text he picked up her basket, and she

mechanically resumed her walk beside him.

"Do you believe what you paint?" she asked in low tones.

"Believe that tex? Do I believe in my own existence!"

"But," said she tremulously, "suppose your sin was not of your own

seeking?"

He shook his head. "I cannot split hairs on that burning query," he said. "I have

walked hundreds of miles this past summer, painting these texes on

every wall, gate, and stile the length and breadth of this district.

I leave their application to the hearts of the people who read 'em."

"I think they are horrible," said Tess. "Crushing! Killing!" "That's what they are meant to be!" he replied in a trade voice.

"But you should read my hottest ones--them I kips for slums and

seaports. They'd make ye wriggle! Not but what this is a very good

tex for rural districts. ... Ah--there's a nice bit of blank wall up

by that barn standing to waste. I must put one there--one that it

will be good for dangerous young females like yerself to heed. Will

ye wait, missy?" "No," said she; and taking her basket Tess trudged on. A little way

forward she turned her head. The old gray wall began to advertise

a similar fiery lettering to the first, with a strange and unwonted

mien, as if distressed at duties it had never before been called upon

to perform. It was with a sudden flush that she read and realized

what was to be the inscription he was now halfway through-

THOU, SHALT, NOT, COMMIT-

Her cheerful friend saw her looking, stopped his brush, and shouted-

"If you want to ask for edification on these things of moment,

there's a very earnest good man going to preach a charity-sermon

to-day in the parish you are going to--Mr Clare of Emminster. I'm

not of his persuasion now, but he's a good man, and he'll expound as

well as any parson I know. 'Twas he began the work in me."