 A spec on the sea, Chapter 34 of the Trumpet Major. In parting from John, who accompanied him to the key, Bob had said, Now, Jack, these be my last words to you. I give her up. I go away on purpose, and I shall be away a long time. If in that time she should list over towards thee ever so little, mind you take her. You have more right to her than I. You chose her when my mind was elsewhere, and you best deserve her. For I have never known you'd forget one woman while I forgot a dozen. Take her then, if she will come, and God bless both of thee. Another person besides John saw Bob go. That was Derriman, who was standing by a bollard at a little further up the key. He did not repress his satisfaction at the sight. John looked towards him with an open gaze of contempt, for the cuffs administered to the omen at the inn had not so far as the Trumpet Major was aware, produced any desire to avenge that insult. John being, of course, quite ignorant that Festus had erroneously retaliated upon Bob in his peculiar, though scarcely soldierly way, finding that he did not even now approach him John went on his way, and thought over his intention of preserving intact the love between Ann and his brother. He was surprised when he next went to the mill to find how glad they were all to see him. When the moment of Bob's return to the bosom of the deep Ann had had no existence on land, people might have looked at her human body and said that she had flitted thence. The sea and all that belonged to the sea was her daily thought and her nightly dream. She had the whole two and thirty winds under her eye, each passing gale that ushered in returning autumn being mentally registered, and she acquired a precise knowledge of the direction in which Portsmouth, Brest, Ferrell, Cadiz, and other such likely places lay. Instead of saying her own familiar prayers at night, she substituted with some confusion of thought the forms of prayer to be used at sea. John at once noticed her lawn abstracted looks, pitied her how much he pitied her, and asked when they were alone if there was anything he could do. There are two things, she said, with almost childish eagerness in her tired eyes. They shall be done. The first is to find out if Captain Hardy has gone back to his ship, and the other is—oh, if you will do with John—to get me newspapers whenever possible. After this duologue John was absent for a space of three hours, and they thought he had gone back to Barracks. He entered, however, at the end of that time, took off his forage cap and wiped his forehead. You look tired, John, said his father. Oh, no! He went through the house till he had found Anne Garland. I have only done one of those things, he said to her. What, already? I didn't hope for or mean to-day. Captain Hardy is gone from Possum. He left some days ago. We shall soon hear that the fleet has sailed. You have been all the way to Possum on purpose. How good of you! Well, I was anxious to know myself when Bob is likely to leave. I expect now that we shall soon hear from him. Two days later he came again. He brought a newspaper, and what was better, a letter for Anne, franked by the first Lieutenant of the Victory. Then he's aboard her, said Anne, as she eagerly took the letter. It was short, but as much as she could expect in the circumstances, and informed them that the Captain had been as good as his word, and had gratified Bob's earnest wish to serve under him. The ship, with Admiral Lord Nelson on board, and accompanied by the frigate Urielis, was to sail in two days for Plymouth, where they would be joined by others, and then proceed to the coast of Spain. Anne lay awake that night thinking of the Victory and of those who floated in her, to the best of Anne's calculation that ship of war would, during the next twenty-four hours, pass within a few miles of where she herself then lay. Next to seeing Bob the thing that would give her more pleasure than any other in the world was to see the vessel that contained him, his floating city, his sole dependence in battle and storm, upon whose safety, from winds and enemies, hung all her hope. The morrow was market-day at the seaport, and in this she saw her opportunity. A carrier went from Overcome at six o'clock thither, and having to do a little shopping for herself, she gave it as a reason for her intended day's absence and took a place in the ban. When she reached the town, it was still early morning, but the burrow was already in the zenith of its daily bustle and show. The king was already out of doors by six o'clock, and such cock-crow hours had glossed to large produced an equally forward stir among her population. She alighted and passed down the Esplanade as fully throng by persons of fashion at this time of mist and level sunlight, as a watering-place in the present day is at four in the afternoon. Daring bucks and bow in cock-tats, black feathers, ruffles and frills, stared at her as she hurried along. The beach was swarming with bathing women, wearing waist-bands that bore the national refrain, God saved the king, in guilt letters. The shops were all open, and Sergeant Stanner, with his sword-struck banknotes and heroic gays, was beating up at two guineas in a crown, the crown to drink his majesty's health. She soon finished her shopping, and then crossing over into the old town pursued her way along the coast road to Portland. At the end of an hour she had been rode across the fleet, which then lacked the convenience of a bridge, and reached the base of Portland Hill. The steep incline before her was dotted with houses, showing the pleasant peculiarity of one man's doorstep, being behind his neighbor's chimney, and slabs of stone as the common material for walls, roof, floor, pigsty, stable manger, door scraper, and garden style. Anne gained the summit, and followed along the central track over the large lump of freestone which forms the peninsula, the wide sea prospect extending as she went on. Weary with her journey, she approached the extreme southerly peak of rock, and gazed from the cliff at Portland Bill, or Beale, as it was in those days more correctly called. The wild, herbless, weather-worn promontory was quite a solitude, and saving the one old lighthouse about fifty yards up the slope, scarce a mark was visible to show that humanity had ever been near the spot. Anne found herself seen on a stone, and swept with her eyes the tremulous expanse of water around her that seemed to utter a ceaseless, unintelligible incantation. Out of the three hundred and sixty degrees of her complete horizon, two hundred and fifty were covered by waves, the coulis including the area of troubled waters known as the race, where two seas met to effect the destruction of such vessels as could not be mastered by one. She counted the craft within her view. There were five, no, there were only four, no, there were seven. Some of the specks having resolved themselves into two. They were all small coasters and kept well within sight of land. Anne sank into a reverie. Then she heard a slight noise on her left hand, and turning beheld an old sailor who had approached with a glass. She was leveling it over the sea, in a direction to the southeast, and somewhat removed from that in which her own eyes had been wandering. Anne moved a few steps thitherward, so as to enclose to her view a deeper sweep on that side, and by this discovered a ship of far larger size than any which had yet dotted the main before her. Its sails were for the most part new and clean, and in comparison with its rapid progress before the wind, the small brigs and catches seemed standing still. Upon this striking object the old man's glass was bent. What do you see, sailor? she asked. Almost nothing, he answered. My sight is so gone off lately that things one and all be but a November mist to me, and yet I feign would see today. I am looking for the victory. Why, she said quickly, I have a son aboard her. He's one of three from these parts. There's the captain, there's my son Jim, and there's young love day of overcome, he that lately joined. Shall I look for you, said Anne, after a pause? Certainly misses, if so be you please. Anne took the glass, and he supported it by his arm. It is a large ship, she said, with three masts, three rows of guns along one side, and all her sail set. I guessed as much. There is a little flag in front over her boastlet, the jack, and there's a large one flying at her stern, the ensign, and a white one on her fore-top mast. That's the Admiral's flag, the flag of my Lord Nelson. What is it, Sir Figurehead, my dear? A coat of arms, supported on this side by a sailor, a companion nodded with satisfaction. On the other side of that figurehead is a marine. She is twisting round in a curious way, and her sails sink in like old cheeks, and she shivers like a leaf upon a tree. She is and stays, for the larbor tack. I can see what she's been doing. She's been retching close in to avoid the flood tide, as the wind is to the southwest, and she's bound down. But as soon as the ebb made, do you see, they made sail to the western. Captain Hardy may be depended upon for that. He knows every comment about here, being a native. But now I can see the other side. It is a soldier where a sailor was before. You are sure it is the victory? I am sure. After this, a frigate came in to view the Urielis, sailing in the same direction, and sat down, and her eyes never left the ships. Tell me more about the victory, she said. She is the best sailor in the service, and she carries a hundred guns. The heaviest be on the lower deck, and the next size on the middle deck, the next on the main and upper decks. My son Jim's place is on the lower deck, because he's short, and they put the short men below. Bob, though not tall, was not likely to be specially selected for shortness. She pictured him on the upper deck, in his snow-white trousers and jacket of navy blue, looking perhaps towards the very point of land where she then was. The great silent ship with her population of blue jackets, marines, officers, captain, and the admiral, who was not to return alive, passed like a phantom the meridian of the bill. Sometimes her aspect was that of a large white bat. Sometimes that of a gray one. In the course of time the watching girl saw that the ship had passed her nearest point. The breath of her sails diminished by foreshortening, till she assumed the form of an egg on end. After this something seemed to twinkle, and Anne, who had previously withdrawn from the old sailor, went back to him, and looking again through the glass, the twinkling was the light falling upon the cabin windows of the ship's stern. She explained it to the old man. Then we see now what the enemy have seen but once. That was in seventy-nine when she sighted the French and Spanish fleet off silly, and she retreated because she feared a landing. Well, it is a brave ship, and she carries brave men. Anne's tender bosom heaved, but she said nothing, and again became absorbed in contemplation. The victory was fast dropping away. She was on the horizon and soon appeared hulled down. That seemed to be like the beginning of a greater end than her present vanishing. Anne Garland could not stay by the sailor any longer, and went about a stone's throw off, where she was hidden by the inequality of the cliff from his view. The vessel was now exactly end-on and stood out in the direction of the start, her width having contracted to the proportion of a feather. She sat down again, and mechanically took out some biscuits that she had brought, foreseeing that her weighting might be long. But she could not eat one of them. Eating seemed to jar with the mental tenseness of the moment, and her undeviating gaze continued to follow the lesson ship with the fidelity of a balanced needle to a magnet stone, all else in her being motionless. The courses of the victory were absorbed into the main. Then her top sails went, and then her top galans. She was now no more than a deadfly's wing on a sheet of spider's web, and even this fragment diminished. Anne could hardly bear to see the end, and yet she resolved not to flinch. The Admiral's flag sank beneath the watery line, and in a minute the very truck of the last topmost stole away. The victory was gone. Anne's lip quivered as she murmured without removing her wet eyes from the vacant and solemn horizon. They that go down to the sea and ships that do business in great waters. These see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep, was returned by a man's voice behind her. Looking round quickly she saw a soldier standing there, and the grave-eyes of John Loveday bent on her. "'Tis what I was thinking," she said, trying to be composed. "'You were saying it,' he answered gently. "'Was I? I did not know it. How came you here?' she presently added. "'I have been behind you a good while, but you never turned round.' "'I was deeply occupied,' she said, in an undertone. "'Yes, I too came to see him pass. I heard this morning that Lord Nelson had embarked, and I knew at once that they would sail immediately. The victory and Urielus are to join the rest of the fleet at Plymouth. There was a great crowd of people assembled to see the Admiral off. They cheered him and the ship as she dropped down. He took his coffin on board with him, they say. "'His coffin?' said Anne, turning deadly pale. "'Something terrible, then, is meant by that. "'Oh, why would Bob go in that ship? Dune to destruction from the very beginning like this.' "'It was his determination to sail under Captain Hardy and under no one else,' said John. "'There may be hot work, but we must hope for the best.' And observing how wretched she looked, he added, "'But won't you let me help you back? If you can walk as far as Hope Cove, it will be enough. A larratt is going from there across the bay, homeward to the harbour, in the course of an hour. It belongs to a man I know, and they could take one passenger, I'm sure.' She turned her back upon the channel, and by his help soon reached the place indicated. The boat was lying there, as he had said. She found it to belong to the old man who had been with her at the bill, and was in charge of his two younger sons. The trumpet major helped her into it over the slippery blocks of stone. One of the young men spread his jacket for her to sit on, and as soon as they pulled from shore, John climbed to the blue-gray cliff and disappeared over the top to return to the mainland by road. Anne was in the town by three o'clock. The trip in the stern of the larratt had quite refreshed her with the help of the biscuits which he had at last been able to eat. The van from the port to Overcome did not start till four o'clock, and feeling no further interest in the gayities of the place, she strolled on past the king's house to the outskirts, her mind settling down again upon the possibly sad fate of the victory when she found herself alone. She did not hurry on, and finding that even now that wanted another half hour to the carrier's time, she turned into a little lane to escape the inspection of the numerous passers-by. Here all was quite lonely and still, and she sat down under a willow tree, absently regarding the landscape, which had begun to put on the rich tones of declining summer, which to her was as hollow and faded as a theater by day. She could hold out no longer, burying her face in her hands. She wept without restraint. Some yards behind her was a little spring of water, having a stone margin rounded to prevent the cattle from treading in the sides and filling it up with dirt. While she wept, two elderly gentlemen entered unperceived upon the scene and walked on to the spring-spring. Here they paused and looked in, afterwards moving rounded, and then stooping as if to smell or taste its waters. The spring was, in fact, a sulfurous one, then recently discovered by a physician who lived in the neighborhood, and it was beginning to attract some attention, having by common report contributed to effects such wonderful cures as almost past belief. After a considerable discussion, apparently, on how the pool might be improved for better use, one of the two elderly gentlemen turned away, leaving the other still probing the spring with his cane. The first stranger, who wore a blue coat with gilt buttons, came on in the direction of Anne Garland, and seeing her sad posture went quickly up to her and said abruptly, what is the matter? Anne, who in her grief had observed nothing but the gentleman's presence, withdrew her handkerchief from her eyes and started to her feet. She instantly recognized her interrogator as the king. What, what crying, is Majesty inquired kindly? How is this? I have seen a dear friend go away, sir, she faltered with downcast eyes. Ah, partings are sad, very sad for us all. You must hope your friend will return soon. Where is he or she gone? I don't know, Your Majesty. Don't know, how is that? He is a sailor on board the victory. Then he has reason to be proud, said the king, with interest. He is your brother? Anne tried to explain what he was but could not and blushed with painful heat. Well, well, well, what is his name? In spite of Anne's confusion and low spirits, her womanly shrewdness told her at once that no harm could be done by revealing Bob's name and she answered, his name is Robert Love Day, sir. Love Day, a good name. I shall not forget it. Now dry your cheeks and don't cry any more. Love Day, Robert Love Day. Anne curtsied, the king smiled gajumedly and turned to rejoin his companion who was afterwards heard to be Doctor, the physician in attendance at Gloucester Lodge. This gentleman had in the meantime filled a small vial with the medicinal water which he carefully placed in his pocket and on the king coming up they retired together and disappeared. Thereupon Anne, now thoroughly aroused, followed the same way with the gingerly tread just in time to see them get into a carriage which was waiting at the turning of the lane. She quite forgot the carrier and everything else in connection with riding home, flying along the road rapidly and unconsciously when she awoke to a sense of her whereabouts she was so near to overcome as to make the carrier not worth waiting for. She had been born up in this hasty spurt at the end of a weary day by visions of Bob promoted to the rank of Admiral or something equally wonderful by the king's special command, the chief result of the promotion being in her arrangement of the piece that he would stay at home and go to sea no more. But she was not a girl who indulged in extravagant fancies long and before she reached home she thought that the king had probably forgotten her by that time and her troubles and her lover's name. End of chapter 34. Chapter 35 of the trumpet major. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Jack Ferrell. The trumpet major by Thomas Hardy. Chapter 35. A sailor enters. The remaining fortnight of the month of September passed away with a general decline from the summer's excitements. The royal family left the watering place the first week in October, the German legion with their artillery about the same time. The dragoon still remained at the barracks just out of the town and John Love Day brought to Anne every newspaper that he could lay hands on, especially such as contained any fragment of shipping news. This threw them much together and at these times John was often awkward and confused on account of the unwanted stress of concealing his great love for her. Her interests had grandly developed from the limits of overcome and the town life hard buy to an extensiveness truly European. During the whole month of October, however, not a single grain of information reached her or anybody else concerning Nelson and his blockading squadron off Cadiz. There were the customary bad jokes about Bonaparte, especially when it was found that the whole French army had turned its back upon Berlon and set out for the Rhine. Then came accounts of his march through Germany and into Austria, but not a word about the victory. At the beginning of autumn, John brought news which fearfully depressed her. The Austrian general Mac had capitulated with his whole army, then will revive the old misgivings as to invasion. Instead of having to cope with him, weary with waiting, we shall have to encounter this man fresh from the fields of victory, ran the newspaper article. But the week which had led off with such a dreary piping was to end in another key. On the very day when Mac's army was piling arms at the feet of its conqueror, a blow had been struck by Bob Love Day and his comrades which eternally shattered the enemies forced by sea. Four days after the receipt of the Austrian news, Corporal Tullidge ran into the miller's house to inform him that on the previous Monday at 11 in the morning, the Pickle schooner, Lieutenant La Pentière, had arrived at Falmouth with dispatches from the fleet, that the stagecoaches on the highway through Wessex to London were chalked with the words, great victory, glorious triumph, and so on, and that all the country people were wild to know particulars. On Friday afternoon, John arrived with authentic news of the battle off Cape Trafalgar and the death of Nelson. Captain Hardy was alive, though his escape had been narrow enough, his shoe-buckle having been carried away by a shot. It was feared that the victory had been the scene of the heaviest slaughter among all the ships engaged, but as yet no returns of killed and wounded had been issued beyond a rough list of the numbers in some of the ships. The suspense of the little household and overcome mill was great in the extreme. John came thither daily for more than a week, but no further particulars reached England till the end of that time, and then only the meager intelligence that there had been a gale immediately after the battle and that many of the prizes had been lost, and said little to all these things and preserved a super stratum of calmness on her countenance. But some inner voice seemed to whisper to her that Bob was no more. Miller Loveday drove to Possum several times to learn if the captain's sisters had received any more definite tidings than these flying reports, but that family had heard nothing which could in any way relieve the miller's anxiety. When at last, at the end of November, there appeared a final and revised list of killed and wounded as issued by Admiral Collingwood, it was a useless sheet to the Lovedays. To their great pain it contained no names with those of officers, the friends of ordinary seamen and marines being in those good old days left to discover their losses as best they might. Anne's conviction of her loss increased with the darkening of the early winter time. Bob was not a cautious man who would avoid needless exposure, and 150 of the victory's crew had been disabled or slain. Anybody who had looked into her room at this time would have seen that her favorite reading was the office for the burial of the dead at sea beginning. We therefore commit his body to the deep. In these first days of December, several of the victorious fleet came into port, but not the victory. Many supposed that that nobleship, disabled by the battle, had gone to the bottom in the subsequent tempestuous weather, and the belief was persevered in till it was told in the town and port that she had been seen passing up the channel. Two days later, the victory arrived at Portsmouth. Then letters from survivors began to appear in the public prints, which John so regularly brought to Anne, but though he watched the males with unceasing vigilance, there was never a letter from Bob. It sometimes crossed John's mind that his brother might still be alive and well, and that in his wish to abide by his expressed intention of giving up Anne and home life, he was deliberately lax in writing. If so, Bob was carrying out the idea too thoughtlessly by half, as could be seen by watching the effects of suspense upon the fair face of the victim and the anxiety of the rest of the family. It was a clear day in December. The first slight snow of the season had been sifted over the earth, and one side of the apple tree branches in the miller's garden was touched with white, though a few leaves were still lingering on the tops of the younger trees. A short sailor of the Royal Navy, who was not Bob, nor anything like him, crossed the mill court and came to the door. The miller hastened out and brought him into the room where John, Mrs. Loveday, and Anne Garland were all present. I'm Comerboard, the victory, said the sailor. My name's Jim Kornick, and your lad is alive and well. They breathed rather than spoke their thankfulness and relief, the miller's eyes being moist as he turned aside to calm himself, while Anne, having first jumped up wildly from her seat, sank back again under the almost insupportable joy that trembled through her limbs to her utmost finger. I've come from Spithead to Possum, the sailor continued, and now I'm going on to Father at Budmouth. Ah, I know your father, cried the trumpet major, old James Kornick. It was the man who had brought Anne in his lyric from Portlandville. And Bob hasn't got a scratch, said the miller. Not a scratch, said Kornick. Loveday then bustled off to draw the visitor something to drink, and garlanded with the glowing blush on her face had gone to the back part of the room where she was the very embodiment of sweet content as she slightly swayed herself without speaking. A little tide of happiness seemed to ebb and flow through her in listening to the sailor's words, moving her figure with it. The seamen and John went on conversing. A better good deal to do with the barricading of horse-holds of four we were in action. Neabell and Captain both were very much pleased that help was done. When Neabell went up the quarter-deck ladder, Captain Hardy said a word or two to Bob. But what it was, I don't know, for I was quartered at the gun some ways off. However, Bob saw the Admiral Stagger when I was wounded, and was one of the men who carried him to the cockpit. After that, he and some other lads jumped aboard the friendship, and I believed they was in her when she struck her flag. What it did next, I can't say, for the wind had dropped and the smoke was like a cloud. But I got a good deal talked about, and they say there's promotion and store for it in. At this point in the story, Jim Corneck stopped to drink, and a low, unconscious humming came from Anne in her distant corner. The faint melody continued more or less when the conversation between the sailor and the loved days was renewed. We heard afore that the victory was near knocked to pieces, said the miller. Knocked to pieces? You'd say so if so be you could see her. Gad her sides be battered like an old penny piece. The shot be still sticking in her wails, and her sails be like so many clap nets. We have run all the way home under jury top mists. And as for her decks, you may swab with hot water, and you may swab with cold. But there's blood stains, and there they'll bide. The captain had a narrow escape, like many of the rest. A shot shaved his ankle like a razor. You should have seen that man's face in the head of battle. His features were as if they had been cast and steel. We rather expected a letter from Bob before this. Well, said Jim Corneck with a smile of toleration, you must make allowances. The truth of it is he's engaged just now at Portsmouth, like a good many of the rest from our ship. It is a very nice young woman that he's courting of, and I make no doubt that she'll be an excellent wife for him. Ah, said Mrs. Loveday in a warning tone. Courting? Wife? said the miller. They instinctively looked towards Anne. Anne had started as if shaken by an invisible hand, and a thick mist of doubt seemed to obscure the intelligence of her eyes. This was buttoned for two or three moments. Very pale, she arose and went right up to the seaman. John gently tried to intercept her, but she passed him by. Do you speak of Robert Loveday as courting a wife? She asked, without the least betrayal of emotion. I didn't see you, Miss, replied Corneck, turning. Yes, your brother have his eye on a wife, and he deserves one, I hope you don't mind. Not in the least, she said with a stage laugh. I am interested, naturally. And what is she? A very nice young master baker's daughter, honey, a very wise choice of the young man's. Is she fair or dark? Her hair is rather light. I like light hair. And her name? Her name is Caroline. But can it be that my story hurts you? If so, yes, yes, said John, interposing anxiously, we don't care for more just at this moment. We do care for more, said Anne vehemently. Tell it all, sailor. That is a very pretty name, Caroline. When are they going to be married? I don't know is how the day is settled, answer Jim. Even now, scarcely conscious of the devastation he was causing in one fair breast. But from the rate the courting is scutting along at, I should say it won't be long first. If you see him when you go back, give him my best wishes, she likely said as she moved away. Anne, she added with solemn bitterness, say that I am glad to hear he is making such good use of the first days of his escape from the valley of the shadow of death. She went away, expressing indifference by audibly singing in the distance, shall we go dance the round the round? Shall we go dance the round? Yes, sister is lively at the news, observed Jim Cornick. Yes, murmured John gloomily, as he gnawed his lower lip and kept his eyes fixed on the fire. Well, continued the man from the victory, I won't say that your brothers intended hadn't got some ballast, which is very lucky for Anne, as he might have picked up with a girl without a single copper nail. To be sure, there was a time we had when we got into port. It was open house for us all, and after mentally regarding the scene for a few seconds, Jim emptied his cup and rose to go. The miller was saying some last words to him outside the house. Anne's voice had hardly ceased singing upstairs. John was standing by the fireplace, and Mrs. Loveday was crossing the room to join her daughter, whose manner had given her some uneasiness. When a noise came from above the ceiling, as if some heavy body falling, Mrs. Loveday rushed to the staircase, saying, I feared something, and she was followed by John. When they entered Anne's room, which they both did almost at one moment, they found her lying insensible upon the floor. The trumpet major, his lips tightly closed, lifted her in his arms and laid her upon the bed, after which he went back to the door to give room to her mother, who was bending over the girl with some heart shortening. Presently Mrs. Loveday looked up and said to him, she is only in a faint, John, and her color is coming back. Now leave her to me, I'll be downstairs in a few minutes, and we'll tell you how she is. John left the room. When he gained the lower apartment, his father was standing by the chimney piece, the sailor having gone. The trumpet major went up to the fire, and grasping the edge of the high chimney shelf, stood silent. Did I hear a noise when I went out, asked the elder in a tone of misgiving? Yes, you did, said John. It was she, but her mother says she is better now. Father, he added impetuously, Bob is a worthless blockhead. If there had been any good in him, he would have been drowned years ago. John, John, not too fast, said the miller. That's a hard thing to say of your brother, and you ought to be ashamed of it. Well, he tries me more than I can bear. But, God, what can a man be made of to go on as he does? Why didn't he come home? Or if he couldn't get leave, why didn't he write? Disgandalous of him to serve a woman like that. Gently, gently, the chap have done his duty as a sailor, and though there might have been something between him and Anne, her mother, in talking it over with me, has said many times that she couldn't think of their marrying till Bob had settled down in business at home. Folks that gain victories must have a little liberty allowed them. Look at the admiral himself for that matter. John continued looking at the red coals, till hearing Mrs. Loveday's foot on the staircase he went to meet her. She is better, said Mrs. Loveday, but she won't come down again today. Could John have heard what the poor girl was moaning to herself at that moment that she lay writhing on the bed? He would have doubted her mother's assurance. If he had been dead, I could have borne it. But this I cannot bear. CHAPTER 36 OF THE TRUMPET MAJOR This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evans. THE TRUMPET MAJOR by Thomas Hardy CHAPTER 36 DERRAMON SEES CHANCES Meanwhile, Sailor Cornick had gone on his way as far as the forking roads, where he met Fester Sterriman on foot. The latter, attracted by the seamen's dress, and by seeing him come from the mill, at once accosted him. Jim, with the greatest readiness, fell into conversation, and told the same story as that he had related at the mill. "'Bob, love-day going to be married,' repeated Fester's. "'You all seem strucker, I eat with that. No, no, I never heard news that pleased me more.' While Cornick was gone, Fester's, instead of passing straight on, halted on the little bridge, and meditated. Bob, being now interested elsewhere, would probably not resent the siege of Anne's heart by another. There could, at any rate, be no further possibility of that looming duel which had troubled the yeoman's mind ever since his horse-play on Anne at the house on the down. To march into the mill and propose to Mrs. Love-day for Anne, before John's interest could revive it her, was, to this hero's thinking, excellent discretion. The day had already begun to darken when he entered, and the cheerful fire shone red upon the floor and walls. Mrs. Love-day received him alone, and asked him to take a seat by the chimney corner, a little of the old hankering for him as a son-in-law, having permanently remained with her. "'Your servant, Mrs. Love-day,' he said, and I will tell you at once what I came for. "'You will say that I take time by the forelock when I inform you that it is to push on my long wish for allowance with your daughter, as I believe she is now a free woman again.' "'Thank you, Mr. Derrimon,' said the mother, plackably, but she is ill at present. I'll mention to her when she is better. Ask her to alter her cruel, cruel resolves against me on the score of my consuming passion for her. In short,' continued Festus, dropping his parlour-language at his warmth, "'I'll tell thee what, Dame Love-day, I want the maid, and must have her.'" Mrs. Love-day replied that this was a very plain speaking. "'Well, tears, but Bob has given her up. He never meant to marry her. I'll tell you, Mrs. Love-day, what I have never told us so before. I was standing upon Bubbeth-key on that very day last September that Bob said sale, and I heard him say to his brother, John, that he gave your daughter up." Then it was very unmanly of him to trifle with her soul, said Mrs. Love-day warmly. "'Who did he give her up to?' Festus replied with hesitation. He gave her up to John. "'To John? How could he give her up to a man already overhead and ears in love with that actress woman?' "'Who? You surprised me. Which actress is it?' "'That Miss Johnson, and to husband that he loves her hopelessly.'" Festus arose. Miss Johnson seemed suddenly to acquire high value as a sweet heart at this announcement. He had himself felt a nameless attractiveness in her, and John had done likewise. John crossed his path in all possible ways. Before the yeoman had replied, somebody opened the door, and the far light shone upon the uniform of the person they discussed. Festus nodded on, recognizing him, which Mrs. Love-day, good evening, and went out precipitantly. So Bob told you he meant to break off with my arm when he went away? Mrs. Love-day remarked to the trumpet-major. "'I wish I had known of it before.'" John appeared disturbed at the sudden charge. He murmured that he could not deny it, and then hastily turned from her, and followed Derrimon, whom he saw before him on the bridge. "'Derrimon!' he shouted. Festus started and looked round. "'Well, trumpet-major?' he said, blandly. "'When will you have sense enough to mind your own business, and not come here telling things you've heard by sneaking behind people's backs?' demanded John hotly. "'If you can't learn in any other way, I'll just have to pull your ears again as I did the other day.' "'You pull my ears? How can you tell that lie when you know it was somebody else who pulled them?' "'Oh, no, no, I pulled your ears, and thrashed you in a mild way.' "'You'll swear to it? Surely it was another man.' "'It was in the public house you were almost in the dark.' And John added a few details to the particular blows which abounded to proof itself. "'Then I heartily asked your pardon the same towards a lie,' cried Festus, advancing with extended hand and a genial smile. "'Sure, if I had known it was you, I wouldn't have insulted you by denying it.' "'That was why you didn't challenge me then.' "'That was it? I wouldn't for the world have hurt your nice sense of honour by letting you go to John challenge if I had known. And now you see, unfortunately, I can't mend the mistake. So long a time has passed since it happened that the heat of my temper is gone off. I couldn't blightly try how I might, for I am not a man, trumpet-major, that can butcher in cold blood. No, not I, nor you neither from what I know of you. "'So, willy-nilly, we must faint at a pass, eh?' "'Me must, I suppose,' said John, smiling grimly. "'Or did you think I was, then, that night when I boxed you all round?' "'No, no, don't press me,' replied the Yeoman. I can't reveal it would be disgracing muster to show how very wide of the truth the mockery of wine was able to leave my senses. We will let it be bedded in the eternal mixons of forgetfulness.' "'As you wish,' said the trumpet-major loftily. "'But if you ever should think you knew it was me, why, you know where to find me?' And Love Day walked off. The instant that he was gone, Festus shook his fist at the evening star, which happened to lie in the same direction as that taken by the lagoon. "'Now, for my revenge, duels, lifelong disgrace to me, if ever I fight with a man of blood below my own. There are other remedies for upper-class souls.' "'Matilda, that's my way.' Festus strode along till he reached the hall where Cripple-straw appeared, gazing at him from under the arch of the porter's lodge. Derrimon dashed open the entrance hurdle with such violence that the whole row of them fell flat in the mud. "'Mercy, Master Festus,' said Cripple-straw. "'Surely,' I says to myself when I see ye are coming. "'Surely, Master Festus, is fuming like that, because there's no chance of the enemy coming this year after all.' "'Cripple-straw, I've been wounded to the heart,' replied Derrimon, with a lurid brow. "'And the man yet lives, and ye want ye all's pistols instantly. Certainly, Master, no, no, Cripple-straw, not my pistols, but my new-cut clothes, my heavy gold seals, my silver-copped cane, and my buckles that cost more money than ye ever saw. Yes, I must tell somebody, and I'll tell you, because there's no other fool near. He loves her heart and soul. He's poor, she's tip-top gentile, and not rich. I am rich by comparison. I'll court the pretty play-actress and win her before his eyes.' "'Play-actress, Master Derrimon?' "'Yes, I saw her this very day, met her by accident, and spoke to her. She's still at the town. Perhaps because of him. I can meet her at any hour of the day. But I don't mean to marry her, not I. I will court her for my pastime and to annoy him. It would be all the more death to him that I don't want her. Then perhaps he will say to me, You have taken my one, you lamb, meaning that I am the king, and he's the poor man, as in the church verse. And he'll beg for mercy when tis too late. And, yes, meanwhile, I shall have tired of my new toy. Saddle the horse, Cripple-straw, to-morrow at ten.' Full of this resolve to scourge John Loveday to the quick through his passion for Miss Johnson, Festus came out booted and spurred at the time appointed, and set off on his morning ride. Miss Johnson's theatrical engagement having long ago terminated, she would have left the Royal Watering Place with the rest of the visitors had not matrimonial hopes detained her there. These had nothing whatever to do with John Loveday, as may be imagined, but with a stout, staid boat-builder in cove-row by the Quay, who had shown much interest in her impersonations. Unfortunately this substantial man had not been quite so attentive since the end of the season, as his previous manner led her to expect. And it was a great pleasure to the lady to see Mr. Derriman leaning over the Harbour Bridge, with his eyes fixed upon her, as she came towards it after a stroll past her elderly wooer's house. "'On take it, man! You didn't tell me when I saw you last, that the tooting man with the blue jacket and lace was yours devoted?' began Festus. "'Who do you mean?' In Matilda's ever-changing emotional interests, John Loveday was a stale and unprofitable for personality. "'Why, why, that trumpet-major man!' "'Oh, what of him?' "'Come, he loves you, and you know it, ma'am.' She knew at any rate how to take the current when it served. So she glanced at Festus, folded her lips meaningly, and nodded. "'I've come to cut him out!' She shook her head, being unsafe to speak until she knew a little more of the subject. "'What?' said Festus, reddening. "'Do you mean to say that you think of him seriously? You, who might look so much higher? Constant dropping will wear away a stone, and you should only hear his pleading. His hamsome face is impressive, and his manners are—oh, so genteel! I am not rich. I am in short a poor lady of decayed family, who has nothing to boast of but my blood and ancestors, and they won't find a body in footed clothing. "'I hold the world, but as the world, a stage where every man must play a part, and mine a sad one.' She dropped her eyes thoughtfully and sighed. "'We will talk of this,' said Festus, much affected. "'Let us walk to the lookout.' She made no objection, and said as they turned that way. "'Mr. Dederman, a long time ago I found something belonging to you, but I have never yet remembered to return it.' And she drew from her bosom the paper which Anne had dropped in the meadow when alluding the grasp of Festus on that summer day. "'Zoons, I smell fresh meat!' cried Festus, when he looked it over. "'Tis him my uncle's writing, and is what I heard him singing on the day the French didn't come, and afterwards saw him marking in the road. "'Tis something he's got hit away. Give me the paper there. There's it here. It is worth sterling gold.' "'Harves, then,' said Matilda, tenderly. "'Gadius, anything!' replied Festus, blazing into a smile, for she had looked up in her best new manner at the possibility that he might be worth the winning. They went up the steps to the summit of the cliff. And dwindled over it against the sky.' End of Chapter 36 Recording by Simon Evers Chapter 37 of The Trumpet Major This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Simon Evers The Trumpet Major by Thomas Hardy Chapter 37 Reaction There was no letter from Bob, though December had passed, and the new year was two weeks old. His movements were, however, pretty accurately registered in the papers, which John still brought, but which Anne no longer read. During the second week in December, the victory sailed for Sheerness, and on the ninth of the following January, the public funeral of Lord Nelson took place in St. Paul's. Then there came a meagre line addressed to the family in general. Bob's new Portsmouth attachment was not mentioned, but he told them he had been one of the eight and forty seamen who walked two and two in the funeral procession, and that Captain Hardy had borne the banner of emblems on the same occasion. The crew was soon to be paid off at Chatham, when he thought of returning to Portsmouth for a few days to see a valued friend. After that, he should come home. But the spring advanced without bringing him, and John watched Anne Garland's desolation with augmenting desire to do something towards consoling her. The old feelings, so religiously held in check, were stimulated to rebelliousness, though they did not show themselves in any direct manner as yet. The miller, in the meantime, whose seldom interfered in such matters, was observed to look meaningly at Anne and the trumpet major from day to day, and by and by he spoke privately to John. His words were shortened to the point, Anne was very melancholy, she had thought too much of Bob. Now it was plain that they had lost him for many years to come. Well, he'd always felt that of the two he would rather John merit her. Now John might settle down there and succeed where Bob had failed. So if you could get her, my sonny, to think less of him and more of I's self, it would be a good thing for all. An inward excitement had risen in John, but he suppressed it and said firmly, fairness to Bob before everything. He had forgotten her, and there's an end on it. She's not forgot him. Well, well, think it over. This discourse was the cause of his penning a letter to his brother. He begged for a distinct statement whether, as John at first supposed, Bob's verbal renunciation of Anne on the key, had been only a momentary abolition of friendship, which he would be cruel to take literally, or whether, as seemed now, it had passed from a hasty resolve to a standing purpose, persevering for his own pleasure, with not a care for the result on poor Anne. John waited anxiously for the answer. But no answer came, and the silence seemed even more significant than a letter of assurance could have been of his absolution from further support to a claim which Bob himself had so clearly renounced. Thus it happened that to paternal pressure, brotherly indifference, and his own released impulse, operated in one delightful direction, and the trumpet major, once more, approached Anne, as in the old time. But it was not till she had been left to herself for a full five months, and the bluebells and ragged robins of the following year were again making themselves common to the rambling eye, that he directly addressed her. She was tying up a group of tall flowering plants in the garden. She knew that he was behind her, but she did not turn. She had subsided into a placid dignity which enabled her when watched to perform any little action with seeming composure. Very different from the flutter of her inexperienced days. Are you never going to turn round? He at length asked, good humorately. She then did turn, and looked at him for a moment without speaking a certain suspicion looming in her eyes, as if suggested by his perceptible want of ease. How like summer it is getting to feel, is it not? She said. John admitted that it was getting to feel like summer, and bending his gaze upon her with an earnestness which no longer left any diet of his subject, went on to ask, Have you ever in these last weeks thought of how it used to be between us? She replied quickly, Oh, John, you shouldn't begin that again. I'm almost another woman now. Well, that's all the more reason why I should, isn't it? Anne looked thoughtfully at the other end of the garden, faintly shaking her head. I don't quite see it like that, she returned. You feel yourself quite free, don't you? Quite free, she said instantly, and with proud distinctness. Her eyes fell, and she repeated more slowly. Quite free. Then her thoughts seemed to fly from herself to him. But you are not? I am not. Miss Johnson. Oh, that woman! You know as well as I that will make up and that I know for a moment thought of her. I had an idea you were acting, but I wasn't sure. Well, that's nothing now. Anne, I want to relieve your life, to cheer you in some way, to make some amends for my brother's bad conduct. If you cannot love me, liking will be well enough. I've fought over every side of it so many times, for months have I been thinking it over, and I am at last sure that I do right to put it to you in this way. That I don't wrong Bob, I am quite convinced, as far as he is concerned, we be both free. Had I not been sure of that, I would never have spoken. Father wants me to take on the mill, and it will please him. If you can give me one little hope, it will make the house gone altogether better, if you can think of me. You are generous and good, John," she said, as a big round tear, bold, helter-skelter down her face and hat-strings. I am not. I fear I am quite the opposite, he said, without looking at her. It will be all gain to me, but you have not answered my question. She lifted her eyes. John, I cannot, she said with a cheerless smile. Positively, I cannot. Will you make me a promise? What is it? I want you to promise first. Yes, it is dreadfully unreasonable, she added in a mild distress, but do promise. John by this time seemed to have a feeling that it was all up with him for the present. I promise, he said listlessly, it is that you won't speak to me about this for ever so long, she returned, with emphatic kindness. Very good, he replied. Very good. Dear Anne, you don't think I have been unmanly or unfair in starting this anew? Anne looked into his face without a smile. You have been perfectly natural, she murmured, and so I think have I. John, mournfully, you will not avoid me for this or be afraid of me. I will not break my word, I will not worry you any more. Thank you, John. You need not have said worry, it isn't that. Well, I am very blind and stupid. I have been hurting your head all the time without knowing it. It is my fate, I suppose. Men who love women the very best always blunder and give more pain than those who love them less. Anne laid one of her hands on the other as she softly replied, looking down at them. No one loves me as well as you, John. Nobody in the world is so worthy to be loved, and yet I cannot anyhow love you rightly, and lifting her eyes. But I do so feel for you that I will try as hard as I can to think about you. Well, that is something, he said, smiling. You say I must not speak about it again for ever so long. How long? Now, that is not fair! Anne retorted going down the garden and leaving him alone. About a week passed. Then one afternoon the miller walked up to Anne in doors, a weighted topic being expressed in his tread. I was so glad, Piani! he began with a knowing smile, to see that from the mill window last week. He flung a nod in the direction of the garden. Anne innocently inquired what it could be. Jack and you in the garden together, he continued, laying his hand gently on her shoulder and stroking it. It would so please me, my dear little girl, if you could get to light him better than that weather-cockmaster Bob. Anne shook her head, not in forceful negation, but to imply a kind of neutrality. Can't you? Come now, said the miller. She threw back her head with a little laugh of grievance. How you will beset me, she expostulated. It makes me feel very wicked in not obeying you and being faithful to faithful, but you could not trust that side of the subject to words. Why would it please you so much? she asked. John is a steady and staunch of feather as ever blowed a trumpet. I've always thought you might do better with him than with Bob. Now, I have a plan for taking him into the mill and letting him have a comfortable time-out after his long-looking about. But so much depends upon you that I must bide a bit till I see what your pleasure is about the poor fellow. Mine, my dear, I don't want to force he. I only just ask he. Anne meditatively regarded the miller from under her shady eyelids, the fingers of one hand playing a silent tattoo on her bosom. I don't know what to say to you, she answered brusquely, and went away. But these discourses were not without their effect upon the extremely conscientious mind of Anne. They were, moreover, much helped by an incident which took place one evening in the autumn of this year when John came to tea. Anne was sitting on a low stool in front of the fire, her hands clasped across her knee. John Luvday had just seated himself on a chair close behind her, and Mrs. Luvday was in the act of fitting the teapot from the kettle which hung in the chimney exactly above Anne. The kettle slipped forward suddenly, whereupon John jumped from the chair and put his own two hands over Anne's just in time to shield them and the precious knee she clasped from the jet of scalding water which had directed itself upon that point. The accidental overflow was instantly checked by Mrs. Luvday, but what had come was received by the devoted trumpet major on the back of his hands. Anne, who had hardly been aware that he was behind her, started up like a person awakened from a trance. What have you done to yourself, poor John, to keep it off me? She cried, looking at his hands. John reddened emotionally at her words. It's a bit of a scald, that's all. He replied, drawing a finger across the back of one hand and bringing off the skin by the touch. You are scalded painfully, and I not at all. She gazed into his kind face, as she had never gazed there before. And when Mrs. Luvday came back with oil and other liniments for the wound, Anne would let nobody dress it but herself. It seemed as if her coiness had all gone. And when she had done all that lay in her power, she still sat by him. At his departure she said what she had never said to him in her life before. Come again soon. In short, that impulsive act of devotion, the last of a series of the same tenor, had been the added drop which finally turned the wheel. John's character deeply impressed her. His determined steadfastness to his lodestar won her admiration. The more especially, as that star was herself. She began to wonder more and more how she could have so persistently held out against his advances before Bob became home to renew girlish memories, which by that time got considerably weakened. Could she not, after all, please the miller and try to listen to John? By so doing she would make a worthy man happy, the only sacrifice being at worse that of her unworthy self whose future was no longer valuable. As for Bob, the woman is to be pitied who loves him, she reflected indignantly, and persuaded herself that whoever the woman might be, she was not Anne Garland. After this there was something of recklessness and something of pleasantry in the young girl's manner of making herself an example of the triumph of pride and common sense over memory and sentiment. Her attitude had been epitomized in her defiant singing at the time she learned that Bob was not leal and true. John, as was inevitable, came again almost immediately, drawn thither by the sun of her first smile on him, and of the words which had accompanied it. And now, instead of going off to her little pursuits upstairs, downstairs, across the room in the corner, or to any place except where he happened to be, as had been her custom hither, too, she remained seated near him, returning interesting answers to his general remarks, and at every opportunity let him know that at last he had found favour in her eyes. The day was fine, and they went out of doors where Anne endeavoured to seat herself on the sloping stone of the window-sill. How good you have become lately! said John, standing over her and smiling in the sunlight which blazed against the wall. I fenced he used to edit hope this afternoon on my account. Perhaps I have, she said gaily. Do whatever we may for him-day. We cannot do too much, for he is one that has guarded our land. And he has done more than that. He has saved me from a dreadful scalding. The back of your hand will not be well for a long time, John, will it? He held out his hand to regard its condition, and the next natural thing was to take hers. There was a glow upon his face when he did it. His star was at last on a fair way towards the zenith after its long and wary declination. The least penetrating eye could have perceived that Anne had resolved to let him woo, possibly, in her temerity, to let him win. Whatever silent sorrow might be locked up in her, it was by this time thrust a long way down from the light. I want you to go somewhere with me, if you will," he said, still holding her hand. Yes, where is it? He pointed to a distant hillside which, hitherto green, had within the last few days begun to show scratches of white on its face. Up there, he said, I see little figures of men moving about. What are they doing? Cutting out a huge picture of the king on horseback and the earth of the hill, the king's head is to be as big as our mill-pond, and his body as big as his garden. He and the horse will cover more than an acre. When shall we go? Whenever you please," said she. John cried with his love-day from the front door, Here's a friend come for you! John went round and found his trusty lieutenant, Trumpeter Buck, waiting for him. A letter had come to the barracks for John in his absence, and the Trumpeter who was going for a walk had brought it along with him. Buck then entered the mill to discuss, if possible, a mug of last year's mead with the miller, and John proceeded to read his letter, and be still round the corner where he had left her. When he had read a few words, he turned as pale as a sheet, but he did not move, and perused the writing to the end. Afterwards he laid his elbow against the wall, and put his palm to his head, thinking with painful intentness. Then he took himself vigorously in hand, as it were, and gradually became natural again. When he parted from Anne to go home with Buck, she noticed nothing different on him. In barracks that evening he read the letter again. It was from Bob, and the agitating contents were these. Dear John, I have drifted off from writing till the present time, because I have not been clear about my feelings, but I have discovered them at last. I can say beyond doubt that I mean to be faithful to my dearest Anne after all. The fact is, John, I have got into a bit of a scrape, and I have a secret to tell you about it, which must go no further on any account. On landing last autumn I fell in with a young woman, and we got rather warm as folks do. In short, we liked one another well enough for a while. But I have gotten to shoal water with her, and I have found her to be a terrible take-in. Nothing in her at all, no scents, no niceties, all tantrums and empty noise, John, though she seemed monstrous clever at first. So my heart comes back to its old anchorage. I hope my return to faithfulness will make no difference to you, but as you showed by your looks at our parting that you should not accept my offer to give her up—made in too much haste, as I have since found— I feel that you won't mind that I have returned to the path of honour. I did not write to Anne as yet, and please do not let her know a word about the other young woman, or there will be the devil to pay. I shall come home and make all things right, please God. In the meantime I should take as a kindness, John, if you would keep a brotherly eye upon Anne, guide her mind back to me. I shall die of sorrow if anybody sets her against me, for my hopes are getting bound up in her again quite strong. Hoping you are as jovial as times go, I am your affectionate brother, Robert. When the cold daylight fell upon John's face as he dressed himself next morning, the incipient yesterday's wrinkle in his forehead had become permanently graven there. He had resolved for the sake of that only brother whom he had nursed as a baby, instructed as a child, and protected and loved always, to pause in his procedure for the present, and at least to do nothing to hinder Bob's restoration to favour, if a genuine, even though temporarily smothered, love for Anne should still hold possession of him. But, having arranged to take her to see the excavated figure of the king, he started for overcume during the day, as if nothing had occurred to check the smooth course of his love. End of Chapter thirty-seven, Recording by Simon Evers Chapter thirty-eight of The Trumpet Major This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers The Trumpet Major by Thomas Hardy Chapter thirty-eight A Delicate Situation I am ready to go," said Anne, as soon as he arrived. He paused, as if taken aback by her readiness, and replied with much uncertainty, would it—wouldn't it be better to put it off till there is less sun? The very slightest symptom of surprise arose in her, as she rejoined. But the weather may change, or have we better not go at all? Oh, no, it was only a thought. We will start at once. And along the veil they went, John keeping himself about a yard from her right hand. When the third field had been crossed, they came upon half a dozen little boys at play. Why don't he pass by to his side like a man? said the biggest and rudest boy. Why don't he pass by to his side like a man? echoed all the rude, smaller boys in a chorus. The Trumpet Major turned, and after some running, succeeded in smacking two of them with his switch, returning to Anne, breathless. I am ashamed they should have insulted you so, he said, blushing for her. They said no harm, poor boys, she replied, reploachfully. Poor John was dumb with perception. The gentle hint upon which he would have eagerly spoken only one short day ago was now like fire to wound. They presently came to some stepping-stones across a brook. John crossed first without turning his head, and Anne just lifting the skirt of her dress crossed behind him. When they reached the other side, a village girl and a young shepherd approached the brink to cross. Anne stopped and watched them. The shepherd took a hand of the young girl in each of his own, and walked backward over the stones facing her, and keeping her upright by his grasp, both of them laughing as they went. What are you staying for, Miss Garland? asked John. I was only thinking how happy they are, she said quietly, and withdrawing her eyes from the tender pair she turned and followed him, not knowing that the seeming sound of a passing bumblebee had suppressed groan from John. When they reached the hill they found forty navvies at work, removing the dark sod as soon as to lay bare the chalk beneath. The equestrian figure that their shovels were forming was scarcely intelligible to John and Anne, now they were close, and after pacing from the horse's head down his breast to his hoof, back by way of the king's bridal arm passed the bridge of his nose and into his cocked hat, Anne said that she'd had enough of it, and stepped out of the chalk-cleaning upon the grass. The trumpet-major had remained all the time in a melancholy attitude within the rowl of his Majesty's right spur. My shoes are caked with chalk, she said as they walked downwards again, and she drew back her dress to look at them. How can I get some of it cleared off? If he was to wipe them in the long grass there, said John, pointing to a spot where the blades were rank and dense, some of it would come off. Having said this, he walked on with religious firmness. Anne raked her little feet on the right side, on the left side, over the toe, and behind the heel. Nature's chalk held its own. Panting with her exertion, she gave it up, and at length overtook him. I hope it is right now, he said, looking gingerly over his shoulder. No indeed, said she, I wanted some assistance, someone to steady me. It's so hard to stand on one foot and wipe out support. I was in danger of toppling over, and so gave it up. Merciful stars, what an opportunity, thought the poor fellow, while she waited for him to offer help. But his lips remained closed, and she went on with a pouting smile. You seem in such a hurry. Why are you in such a hurry? After all the fine things you've said about caring so much for me and all that, you won't stop for anything. It was too much for John. Upon my heart and life, my dear— He began. Here Bob's letter crackled warningly in his waistcoat pocket, as he laid his hand asseveratingly upon his breast, and he became suddenly scaled up to dumbness and gloom as before. When they reached home, Anne sank upon a stool outside the door, fatigued with her exertion. Her first act was to try to pull off her shoe. It was a difficult matter, but John stood beating with his switch to the leaves of the creeper on the wall. Mother, David, Molly, or somebody do come and help me put off these dirty shoes, she cried aloud at last. Nobody helps me in anything. I am very sorry, said John, coming towards her with incredible slowness, and an air of unutterable depression. All I can do without you, David is best, she returned as the old man approached and removed the obnoxious shoes in a trice. Anne was amazed at this sudden change from devotion to crass indifference. On entering her room she floated the glass almost expecting to learn that some extraordinary change had come over her pretty countenance, rendering her intolerable for ever more. But it was, if anything, fresher than usual on account of the exercise. Well, she said retrospectively. For the first time since that acquaintance she had this week encouraged him, and for the first time he'd shown that encouragement was useless. But perhaps he did not clearly understand, she added serenely. When he next came, it was, to her surprise, to bring her newspapers, now for some time discontinued. As soon as she saw them she said, I do not care for newspapers. The shipping news is very full and long today, though the print is rather small. I take no further interest in the shipping news, she replied with cold dignity. She was sitting by the window inside the table, and hence when, in spite of her negations, he deliberately unfolded the paper and began to read about the Laurel Navy, she could hardly rise and go away. With hysterical mien he read on to the end of the report, bringing out the name of Bob's ship with tremendous force. No, she said at last, I'll hear no more, let me read to you. The trumpet major sat down, and turned to the military news, delivering every detail with much apparent enthusiasm. That's the subject I like, she said fervently. But Bob is in the Navy now, and will most likely rise to be an officer, and then what is there like the Army, she interrupted. There's no smarties about sailors, they waddle like ducks, and they only fight stupid battles that no one can form any idea of. There's no science or stratagem in sea-fights, nothing more than what you see when two rams run their heads together in a field to knock each other down. But in military battles there is such art and such splendour, and the men are so smart, particularly the horse soldiers. Oh, I shall never forget what gallant men you all seemed when you came and pitched your tents on the grounds. I like the cavalry better than anything I know, and the dragoons the best of the cavalry, and the trumpeters the best of the dragoons. Oh, if it had but come a little sooner, moaned John within him. He replied as soon as he could regain self-command. I am glad Bob is in the Navy at last, he is so much more fitted for that than the merchant's service, so brave by nature, ready for any daring deed. I've heard ever so much more about his doings on board the victory. Captain Hardy took special notice that when he— I don't want to know anything more about it, said Anne impatiently. Of course sailors fight, there's nothing else to do in a ship since you can't run away. You may as well fight and be killed, as be killed not fighting. Still, it is in his character to be careless of himself when the honour of his country is concerned, John pleaded. If you'd only known him as a boy, you would own it. He would always risk his own life to save anybody else's. Once, when a cottage was afar up the lane, he rushed him for a baby, although he was only a boy himself, and he had the narrowest escape. We have got his hat now with a hole burnt in it. Shall I get it and show you? No, I don't wish it. There's nothing to do with me. But as he persisted in his course towards the door, she added, Ah, you leave him, because I am in your way. You want to be alone while you read the paper. I'll go at once. I did not see that I was interrupting you. And she rose as if to retreat. No, no, I would rather be interrupted by you than— Oh, Miss Garland, excuse me. I'll just speak to Father in the Mill. Now I'm here. It is scarcely necessary to state that Anne, whose unquestionable gentility and somewhat homely surroundings had been many times assisted on in the course of this history, was usually the reverse of a woman with a coming-on disposition. But whether from peak at his manner, or from willful adherence to a course rashly resolved on, or from coquettish maliciousness and reaction from long depression, or from any other thing, so it was that she would not let him go. The trumpet major, she said, recalling him. Yes, he replied timidly. The bow of my caprim has become untied, has it not? She turned and fixed her bewitching glance upon him. The bow was just over her forehead, or more precisely, at the point where the organ of comparison merges in that benevolence, according to the phrenological theory of Gaul. John, thus brought to, endeavored to look at the bow in a skimming, duck-and-drink fashion, so as to avoid dipping his own glance as far as to the plain of his interrogator's eyes. It is untied, he said, drawing back a little. She came nearer and asked, Will you type for me, please? As there was no help for it, he nerfed himself and assented. As I heard any reach to his fourth button, she necessarily looked up for his convenience, and John began fumbling at the bow. Try as he would, it was impossible to touch the ribbon without getting his fingertips mixed with the curls of her forehead. Your hand shakes. Ah, you had been walking fast, she said. Yes. Yes. Have you almost done it? She inquirily directed her case upwards through his fingers. No, not yet. He faltered in a warm sweat of emotion, his heart going like a flail. Then be quick, please. Yes, I will, Miss Garland. Bob is a very good—not that man's name to me, she interrupted. John was silent instantly, and nothing was to be heard but the rustling of the ribbon to his hands, once more blundered about among the curls, and then touched her forehead. Oh, good God! ejaculated the trumpet major in a whisper, turning away hastily to the corner cupboard and resting his face upon his hand. What's the matter, John? said she. I can't do it. What? Tie your cap ribbon. Why not? Because you are so—because I am clumsy and never could tie a bow. You are clumsy indeed, answered Anne, and went away. After this she felt injured, for it seemed to show that he rated her happiness as of meaner value than Bob's, since he had persisted in his idea of giving Bob another chance when she had implied that it was her wish to do otherwise. Could Miss Johnson have anything to do with his firmness? An opportunity of testing him in this direction occurred some days later. She'd been up in the village and met John at the mill door. Have you heard the news? Matilda Johnson is going to be married to young Derriman. Anne stood with her back to the sun, and as he faced her, his features were searchingly exhibited. There was no change whatever in them, unless it were that a certain light of interest kindled by her question turned to complete and blank indifference. Well, as times go it's not a bad match for her, he said, with a flam which was hardly that of a lover. John on his part was beginning to find these temptations almost more than he could bear. But being caught at so near to his father's house, it was unnatural not to visit him, especially when at any moment the regiment might be ordered abroad, and a separation of years ensue, and as long as he went there he could not help seeing her. The year changed from green to gold, and from gold to gray, but little change came over the house of Love Day. During the last twelve months, Bob had been occasionally heard of as upholding his country's honour in Denmark, the West Indies, Gibraltar, Malta, and other places about the globe, till the family received a short letter stating that he had arrived again at Portsmouth. At Portsmouth Bob seemed disposed to remain, for though some time elapsed without further intelligence, the gallant seamen never appeared at Overcomb. Then on a sudden John learnt that Bob's long talked-off promotion for signal services rendered was to be an accomplished fact. The trumpet-major at once walked off to Overcomb and reached the village in the early afternoon. Not one of the family was in the house at the moment, and John strolled onwards over the hill towards Castor Bridge without much thought of direction, till, lifting his eyes, he beheld Anne Garland wandering about, with a little basket upon her arm. A first John blushed with delight at the sweet vision, but, recalled by his conscience, the blush of delight was at once mangled and slain. He looked for a means of retreat, but the field was open and a soldier was a conspicuous object. There was no escaping her. It was kind of you to come, she said, with an inviting smile. It was quite by accident, he answered, with a different laugh, I thought she was at home. Anne blushed and said nothing, and they rambled on together. In the middle of the field rose a fragment of stone wall in the form of a gable, known as Farringdon Ruin. And when they reached it, John paused, and politely asked her if she were not a little tired with walking so far. No particular reply was returned by the young lady, but they both stopped, and Anne seated herself on a stone which had fallen from the ruin to the ground. A church once stood here, observed John in a matter-of-fact tone. Yes, I have often shaped it out in my mind, she returned. Here where I sit must have been the altar. True, this standing bit of wall was the chancellend. Anne had been adding up her little studies of the trumpet major's character, and were surprised to find how the brightness of that character increased in her eyes with each examination. A kindly and gentle sensation was again aroused in her. Here was an elected heroic man, who, loving her to distraction, deliberately doomed himself to pensive shade to void even the appearance of standing in a brother's way. If the altar stood here, hundreds of people had been made man and wife just there. In past times, she said, with calm deliberateness, throwing a little stone on a spot about a yard westward. John annihilated another tender burst, and replied, Yes, this field used to be a village. My grandfather could call to mind when there were houses here. But the squire pulled him down because called poor folk were an eye sore to him. Do you know, John, what she once asked me to do, she continued, not accepting the digression and turning her eyes upon him? In what sort of way? In the manner of my future life, and yours? I am afraid I don't. John loved day. He turned his back upon her for a moment that she might not see his face. Ah, I do remember, he said at last, in a dry, small, repressed voice. Well, need I say more? Isn't it sufficient? It would be sufficient, answered the unhappy man, but she looked up with a reproachful smile and shook her head. That summer she went on, you ask me ten times if you ask me once. I am older now, much more of a woman, you know. And my opinion is changed about some speed people, especially about one. Oh, Anne! Anne! he burst out. As racked between honour and desire, he snatched up her hand. The next moment it fell heavily to her lap. He had absolutely relinquished it, half way to his lips. I have been thinking lately, he said, with preternaturally sudden calmness, that men of the military profession ought not to be like St. Paul, I mean. Fight, John, pretending religion, she said sternly. It isn't that at all. It's Bob. Yes, cried the miserable trumpet-major. I've had a letter from him to-day. He peeled out a sheet of paper from his breast. That's it. He's promoted. He's a lieutenant and appointed to a sloop that only cruises on our own coast, so that he'll be at home on leave half his time. He'll be a gentleman some day and worthy of you. He threw the letter into her lap, and drew back to the other side of the gable wall. Anne jumped up from her seat, flung away the letter without looking at it, and went hastily on. John did not attempt to overtake her. Picking up the letter, he followed in her wake at a distance of a hundred yards. But though Anne had withdrawn from his presence thus precipitately, she never thought more highly of him in her life than she did five minutes afterwards, when the excitement of the moment had passed. She saw it all quite clearly, and his self-sacrifice impressed her so much that the effect was just the reverse of what he'd been aiming to produce. The more he pleaded for Bob, the more her perverse generosity pleaded for John. Today the crisis had come, with what results she had not foreseen. As soon as the traffic major reached the nearest pen and ink, he flung himself into a seat and wrote wildly to Bob, Dear Robert, I write these few lines to let you know that if you want Anne Garnard, you must come at once, you must come instantly, and post-hace, or she will be gone. Somebody else wants her, and she wants him. It is your last chance in the opinion of your faithful brother and well-wisher, John. P.S., glad to hear of your promotion. Tell me the day, and I'll meet the coach. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Simon Evers. The trumpet major by Thomas Hardy. Chapter 39. Bob Love Day struts up and down. One night, about a week later, two men were walking in the dark along the Turnpike Road towards Overcoum, one of them with a bag in his hand. Now, said the taller of the two, the squerness of whose shoulders signified that he wore epaulets. Now you must do the best you can for yourself, Bob. I have done all I can, but as thy work cut out, I can tell thee. I wouldn't have run such a wish for the world, said the other, in a turn of ingenuous contrition. But as, see, Jack, I didn't think there was any danger knowing you was taking care of her and keeping my place warm for me. I didn't hurry myself, that's true, but thinks I, if I get this promotion, I'm promised I shall naturally have leave, and then I'll go and see them all. God, I shouldn't have been here now but for your letter. You little think what risks you've run, said his brother. However, try to make up for lost time. All right. And whatever you do, Jack, don't say a word about this other girl. Hang the girl, I was a great fool, I know. Still, it's over now, and I'm coming to my senses. I suppose Anne never caught a cap full of wind from that quarter. She knows all about it, said John seriously. Knows, by George then I'm ruined, said Bob, standing stock still on the road, as if he meant to remain there all night. That's what I mean by saying that it would be a hard battle for he. Returned to John with the same quietness as before. Bob sighed and moved on. I don't deserve that woman, he cried passionately, thumping his three upper ribs with his fist. I thought as much myself, observed John, with a dryness which was almost bitter. But it depends on how thus behaved in future. John, said Bob, taking his brother's hand. I'll be a new man, I solemnly swear by that eternal milestone staring at me there, that I'll never look at another woman with the thought of marrying her, whilst that darling is free. No, not if she be a mermaiden of light. It's a lucky thing that I'm slipped in on that quarter-deck. It may help me with her, eh? It may with her mother. I don't think it will make much difference with Anne. Still, it is a good thing, and I hope that someday you'll command a big ship. Bob shook his head. Offices are scarce, but I'm afraid my light won't carry me so far as that. Did she ever tell you that she mentioned your name to the king? The seamen stood still again. Never, he said. How did such a thing as that happen in heaven's name? John described in detail, and they walked on, lost, in conjecture. As soon as they entered the house, the returned officer of the navy was welcomed with acclamation by his father and David, with mild approval by Mrs. Loveday, and by Anne, not at all. That discreet maiden having carefully retired to her own room sometime earlier in the evening. Bob did not dare to ask for her in any positive manner. He just inquired about her health, and that was all. Well, what's the matter with thy face, my son? said the miller, staring. David, show a light here! And a candle was thrust against Bob's cheek, where there appeared a jagged streak like the geological remains of a lobster. Oh, that's where that rascally Frenchman's grenade busted and hit me from the redoubtable, you know, as I told him my letter. Not a word. What didn't I tell ye? I know I meant to, but I forgot it. And here's a sort of dintenia for it, too. What doth that mean, my dear boy? said the miller, putting his finger in a chasm in Bob's skull. That were done in the Indies. Yeah, that was rather a troublesome chopper. Cutlass did it. I should have told ye, but I found to make my letter so long that I put it off, and put it off. And at last I thought it wasn't worthwhile. John soon rose to take his departure. It's all up with me and her, you see, said Bob to him outside the door. She's not even going to see me. Wait a little, said the trumpet-major. It was easy enough on the night of the arrival in the midst of excitement when blood was warm for Anne to be resolute in her avoidance of Bob Love Day. But in the morning, determination is apt to grow invertebrate. Rules of pugnacity are less easily acted upon, too. And a feeling of live and let live takes possession of the gentle soul. Anne had not meant even to sit down to the same breakfast table with Bob. But when the rest were assembled and had got some way through the substantial repast which was served at this hour in the miller's house, Anne entered. She came silently as a phantom. Her eyes cast down, her cheeks pale. It was a good long walk from the door to the table, and Bob made a full inspection of her. She came up to a chair at the remotest corner in the direct rays of the morning light, when she dumbly sat herself down. It was altogether different from how she had expected. Here was she who had done nothing, feeling all the embarrassment. And Bob, who had done the wrong, feeling apparently quite at ease. You all speak to Bob, won't you, honey? said the miller, after a silence. To meet Bob like this after an absence seemed irregular in his eyes. If he wished me to, she replied, said, dressing the miller that no part, scrap, or out-climb beam whatever of her glance passed near the subject of her remark. He said, Lieutenant, you know, dear, said her mother on the same side, and he's been dreadfully wounded. Oh! said Anne, turning a little towards the false one, and which Bob felt it to be time for him to put in a spoke for himself. I'm glad to see you, he said contritely. And how do you do? Very well, thank you. He extended his hand. She allowed him to take hers, but only to the extent of a niggardly inch or so. At the same moment she glanced up at him, when their eyes met, and hers were again withdrawn. The hitch between the two younger members of the household tended to make the breakfast a dull one. Bob was so depressed by her unforgiving manner that he could not throw that sparkle into his stories, which their substance naturally required. And when the meal was over, and they went about their different businesses, the pair resembled the two dreamyos in seldom or never being, thanks to Anne's subtle contrivances, both in the same room at the same time. This kind of performance repeated itself during several days. At last, after dogging her hither and thither, leaning with a wrinkled forehead against doorposts, taking an oblique view into the room where she happened to be, picking up worsted balls and getting no thanks, placing a splinter from the victory, several bullets from the doubtable, a strip of the flag, and other interesting relics carefully labelled upon her table, and hearing no more about them than if there had been pebbles from the nearest brook, he hit upon a new plan. To avoid him, she frequently sat upstairs in a window overlooking the garden. Lieutenant Loveday carefully dressed himself in a new uniform, which he had caused to be sent some days before to dazzle of marring friends, but which he had never as yet put on in public or mentioned to a soul. When arrayed, he entered the sunny garden, and there walked slowly up and down as he had seen Nelson and Captain Hardy do on the quarter-deck, but keeping his right shoulder on which his one epaulet was fixed as much towards Anne's window as possible. But she made no sign, though there was not the least question that she saw him. At the end of half an hour, he went in, took off his clothes, and gave himself up to doubt and the best tobacco. He repreated the programme on the next afternoon, and on the next, never saying a word within doors about his doings or his notice. Meanwhile, the results in Anne's chamber were not uninteresting. She had been looking out on the first day, and was duly amazed to see a naval officer in full uniform promenading in the path. Finding it to be Bob, she left the window with a sense that the scene was not for her. Then, from mere curiosity, peeping out from behind the curtain. When he was a pretty spectacle, she admitted, relieved as his figure was by a dense mass of sunny, close-drimmed hedge over which nasturtiums climbed in wild luxurians. And if she could care for him one bit, which she couldn't, his form would have been a delightful study, surpassing in interest even its splendour on the memorable day of their visit to the town theatre. She called her mother. Mrs. Loveday came promptly. Oh, it is nothing, said Anne, indifferently, only that Bob has got his uniform. Mrs. Loveday peeped out, and raised her hands with delight. Had he not said a word to us about it, what a lovely up-a-lot I must call his father! No, indeed, as I take no interest in him, I shall not let people come into my room to admire him. Well, you called me, said her mother. It was because I thought you liked fine clothes. It's what I don't care for. Notwithstanding this assertion, she again looked out at Bob the next afternoon when his footsteps rustled on the gravel, and studied his appearance under all the varying angles of the sunlight, as if fine clothes and uniforms were not altogether a matter of indifference. He certainly was a splendid gentlemanly and gallant saver from end to end of him. But then what were a dashing presentiment a naval rank and telling scars if a man was fickle hearted? However, she peeped on till the fourth day, and then she did not peep. The window was open, she looked right out, and Bob knew that he got a rise to his bait at last. He touched his hat to her, keeping his right shoulder forwards, and said, Good day, Miss Garland, with a smile. Anne replied, Good day, with a funerial seriousness, and the acquaintance thus revived led to the interchange of a few words at supper-time, at which Mrs. Loveday nodded with satisfaction. But Anne took a special care that you should never meet her alone, and to ensure this her ingenuity was in constant exercise. There were so many nooks and windings on the miller's rambling premises that she could never be sure he would not turn up within a foot of her, particularly as his thin shoes were almost noiseless. One fine afternoon she accompanied Molly in search of elderberries for making the family wine, which was drunk by Mrs. Loveday, Anne and anybody who could not stand the rougher and stronger liquors provided by the miller. After walking rather a long distance over the dine, they came to a grassy hollow, where elderbushes in knots of twos and threes rose from an uneven bank and hung their heads towards the south, black and heavy with bunches of fruit. The charm of fruit-gathering to girls is enhanced in the case of elderberries by the inoffensive softness of the leaves, boughs, and bark, which makes getting into the branches easy and pleasant to the most indifferent climbers. Anne and Molly had soon gathered a basketful, and, sending the servants home with it, Anne remained in the bush, picking and throwing down bunch by bunch upon the grass. She was so absorbed in her occupation of putting the twigs towards her, and the rustling of their leaves so filled her ears, that it was a great surprise, when, on turning her head, she perceived a similar movement to her own among the bows of the adjoining bush. At first she thought they were disturbed by being partly in contact with the bows of her bush, but, in a moment, Robert Loveday's face peered from them, at a distance of about a yard from her own. Anne uttered a little indignant, well, recovered herself, and went on plucking. Bob thereupon went on plucking likewise. I'm picking elderberries for your mother, said the lieutenant at last, humbly. So I see. And I happen to have come to the next bush to yours. So I see, but not the reason why. Anne was now in the westernmost branches of the bush, and Bob had lent cross into the eastern branches of his. In gathering he swayed towards her, back again, forward again. I beg pardon, he said, when a further swing than usual had taken him almost in contact with her. Then why do you do it? The wind rocks the bow, and the bow rocks me. She expressed by her look, her opinion of this statement in the face of the gentlest breeze, and Bob pursued, I'm afraid the berries will stain you pretty hands. I wear gloves. That's a plan I should never have thought of. Can I help you? Not at all. You're offended, that's what that means. No, she said. Then will you shake hands? Anne hesitated. Then slowly stretched out her hand, which he took at once. That will do, she said, finally that he did not relinquish it immediately. But as he still held it, she pulled, the effect of which was to draw Bob's swaying person bow and all towards her and herself towards him. I am afraid to let go your hand, said that officer, for if I do your spar will fly back, and you will be thrown upon the deck with great violence. I wish you to let me go. He accordingly did, and she flew back, but did not by any means fall. It reminds me of the times when I used to be aloft clinging to a yard, not much bigger than this tree-stem in the Mid-Atlantic, and thinking about you. I could see you in my fancy as plain as I see you now. Me, or some other woman, retorted Anne, haughtily. No, declared Bob, shaking the bush for emphasis, I'll protest that I don't think of anybody but you, all the time you were dropping down channel, all the time you were off cadiz, all the way through battles and bombardments. I seem to see you in the smoke, and thinks I, if I go to Davies' locker, what would she do? You didn't think that when you landed after Trafalgar? Well now, said the lieutenant in a reasoning tone. That was a curious thing. You hardly believe it, maybe, but when a man is away from the woman he loves best in the port—world, I mean—he can have a sort of temporary feeling for another without disturbing the old one, which flows along under the same as ever. I can't believe it, and I won't, said Anne, firmly. Morning hour appeared with the empty basket, and when it had been filled from the heap on the grass, Anne went home with her, bidding Love Day a frigid adieu. The same evening, when Bob was absent, the miller proposed that they should all three go to an upper window of the house to get a distant view of some rockets and illuminations which were to be exhibited in the town and harbour in honour of the king, who had returned this year as usual. They accordingly went upstairs to an empty attic, placed chairs against the window, and put out the light. Anne, sitting in the middle, a mother close by, and the miller behind, smoking. No sign of any pyrotechnic display was visible over the port as yet, and Mrs. Love Day passed the time by talking to the miller, who replied in monosyllables. While this was going on, Anne fancied that she heard someone approach, and presently felt sure that Bob was drawing near her in the surrounding darkness. But as the other two had noticed nothing, she said not a word. All at once the swarthy expanse of Southwood's guy was broken by the blaze of several rockets simultaneously ascending from different ships in the roads. At the very same moment a warm, mysterious hand slipped round her own, and gave it a gentle squeeze. Oh, dear! said Anne, with a sudden start away. I'm nervous you are, child, to be startled by fireworks so far off! said Mrs. Love Day. I never saw rockets before! murmured Anne, recovering from her surprise. Mrs. Love Day presently spoke again. I wonder what's become of Bob? Anne did not reply, being much exercised, and trying to get a hand away from the one that imprisoned it. And whatever the miller thought he kept to himself, because it disturbed his smoking to speak. Another batch of rockets went up. Oh, I never! said Anne, and a half suppressed tone springing in her chair. A second hand had, with the rise of the rockets, leapt round her waist. Poor girl, you certainly must have change of scene at this rate! said Mrs. Love Day. I suppose I must! murmured the dutiful daughter. For some minutes nothing further occurred to disturb Anne's serenity. Then a slow, quiet came from the obscurity of the apartment. What, Barb, how long have you been there? inquired Mrs. Love Day. Not long, said the lieutenant Cooley. I heard you were all here, and crept up quietly not to disturb you. Why don't you wear heels to your shoes like Christian people, and not creep about so like a cat? Well, it keeps your floors clean to go slip-shod. That's true. Meanwhile Anne was gently but firmly trying to pull Bob's arm from her waist. Her distressful difficulty being that in freeing her waist she enslaved her hand, and in getting her hand free she enslaved her waist. Finding the struggle of futile one, earned to the invisibility of her antagonist, and her wish to keep its nature secret from the other two, she rose, and saying that she did not care to see any more, felt her way downstairs. Bob followed, leaving Love Day and his wife to themselves. Dear Anne, he began when he got down and saw her in the candle-light of the large room, but she had rightly passed out at the other door, and which he took a candle and followed her to the small room. Dear Anne, do let me speak! he repeated as soon as the rays revealed her figure. But she passed into the bake-house before he could say more, whereupon he perseveringly did the same. Looking round for her here, he perceived her at the end of the room, where there was no means of exit whatever. Dear Anne, he began again, sitting down the candle. You must try to forgive me, really you must. I love you the best of anybody in the wide, wide world. Try to forgive me, come! And he imploringly took her hand. Anne's bosom began to surge and fall like a small tide, her eyes remaining fixed upon the floor, till, when Love Day ventured to draw her slightly towards him, she burst out crying. I don't like you, Bob. I don't! she suddenly exclaimed between her sobs. I did once, but I don't know. I can't. I can't. You've been very cruel to me. She violently turned away, weeping. I've been terribly bad, I know, answer Bob, conscious stricken by her grief. But if you could only forgive me, I promise that I'll never do anything to grieve you again. Do you forgive me, Anne? Anne's only reply was crying and shaking her head. Let's make it up. Come say we've made it up, dear! She withdrew her hand and, still keeping her eyes buried in her handkerchief, said, No. Very well, then, exclaimed Bob with sudden determination. Now I know my doom, and whatever you hear of us happening to me, mind this, you cruel girl, that it is all your causing. Saying this, he strode with a hasty tread across the room into the passage and out of the door, slamming it loudly behind him. Anne suddenly looked up from her handkerchief and stared with round, wet eyes and parted lips at the door by which he had gone. Having remained with a suspended breath in this attitude for a few seconds, she turned round, bent her head upon the table, and burst out weeping anew with thrice the violence of the former time. It rarely seemed now as if her grief would overwhelm her, all the emotions which had been suppressed, bottled up and concealed since Bob's return, having made themselves as loose at last. But such things have their end, and left to herself in the large, vacant, old apartment, she grew quieter and at last calm. At length she took the handle and ascended to her bedroom, where she bathed her eyes and looked in the glass to see if she had made herself a dreadful object. It was not so bad as she had expected, and she went downstairs again. Nobody was there, and sitting down she wondered what Bob had really meant by his words. It was too dreadful to think that he intended to go straight away to sea without seeing her again, and frightened her what she had done. She waited anxiously for his return.