Tess of the dUrbervilles - Page 74/283

The infant's breathing grew more difficult, and the mother's mental

tension increased. It was useless to devour the little thing with

kisses; she could stay in bed no longer, and walked feverishly about

the room. "O merciful God, have pity; have pity upon my poor baby!" she cried.

"Heap as much anger as you want to upon me, and welcome; but pity the

child!" She leant against the chest of drawers, and murmured incoherent

supplications for a long while, till she suddenly started up.

"Ah! perhaps baby can be saved! Perhaps it will be just the same!"

She spoke so brightly that it seemed as though her face might have

shone in the gloom surrounding her. She lit a candle, and went to

a second and a third bed under the wall, where she awoke her young

sisters and brothers, all of whom occupied the same room. Pulling

out the washing-stand so that she could get behind it, she poured

some water from a jug, and made them kneel around, putting their

hands together with fingers exactly vertical. While the children,

scarcely awake, awe-stricken at her manner, their eyes growing larger

and larger, remained in this position, she took the baby from her

bed--a child's child--so immature as scarce to seem a sufficient

personality to endow its producer with the maternal title. Tess then

stood erect with the infant on her arm beside the basin; the next

sister held the Prayer-Book open before her, as the clerk at church

held it before the parson; and thus the girl set about baptizing her

child. Her figure looked singularly tall and imposing as she stood in her

long white nightgown, a thick cable of twisted dark hair hanging

straight down her back to her waist. The kindly dimness of the weak

candle abstracted from her form and features the little blemishes

which sunlight might have revealed--the stubble scratches upon her

wrists, and the weariness of her eyes--her high enthusiasm having

a transfiguring effect upon the face which had been her undoing,

showing it as a thing of immaculate beauty, with a touch of dignity

which was almost regal. The little ones kneeling round, their sleepy

eyes blinking and red, awaited her preparations full of a suspended

wonder which their physical heaviness at that hour would not allow to

become active.

The most impressed of them said: "Be you really going to christen him, Tess?"

The girl-mother replied in a grave affirmative.

"What's his name going to be?"

She had not thought of that, but a name suggested by a phrase in

the book of Genesis came into her head as she proceeded with the

baptismal service, and now she pronounced it: