The next morning, at the time when the height of the sun appeared very
insignificant from any part of the heath as compared with the altitude
of Rainbarrow, and when all the little hills in the lower levels were
like an archipelago in a fog-formed Aegean, the reddleman came from
the brambled nook which he had adopted as his quarters and ascended
the slopes of Mistover Knap.
Though these shaggy hills were apparently so solitary, several keen
round eyes were always ready on such a wintry morning as this to
converge upon a passer-by. Feathered species sojourned here in hiding
which would have created wonder if found elsewhere. A bustard haunted
the spot, and not many years before this five and twenty might have
been seen in Egdon at one time. Marsh-harriers looked up from the
valley by Wildeve's. A cream-coloured courser had used to visit this
hill, a bird so rare that not more than a dozen have ever been seen
in England; but a barbarian rested neither night nor day till he had
shot the African truant, and after that event cream-coloured coursers
thought fit to enter Egdon no more.
A traveller who should walk and observe any of these visitants as Venn
observed them now could feel himself to be in direct communication
with regions unknown to man. Here in front of him was a wild
mallard--just arrived from the home of the north wind. The creature
brought within him an amplitude of Northern knowledge. Glacial
catastrophes, snowstorm episodes, glittering auroral effects, Polaris
in the zenith, Franklin underfoot,--the category of his commonplaces
was wonderful. But the bird, like many other philosophers, seemed
as he looked at the reddleman to think that a present moment of
comfortable reality was worth a decade of memories.
Venn passed on through these towards the house of the isolated beauty
who lived up among them and despised them. The day was Sunday; but
as going to church, except to be married or buried, was exceptional
at Egdon, this made little difference. He had determined upon the
bold stroke of asking for an interview with Miss Vye--to attack
her position as Thomasin's rival either by art or by storm,
showing therein, somewhat too conspicuously, the want of gallantry
characteristic of a certain astute sort of men, from clowns to kings.
The great Frederick making war on the beautiful Archduchess, Napoleon
refusing terms to the beautiful Queen of Prussia, were not more dead
to difference of sex than the reddleman was, in his peculiar way, in
planning the displacement of Eustacia.
To call at the captain's cottage was always more or less an
undertaking for the inferior inhabitants. Though occasionally chatty,
his moods were erratic, and nobody could be certain how he would
behave at any particular moment. Eustacia was reserved, and lived
very much to herself. Except the daughter of one of the cotters, who
was their servant, and a lad who worked in the garden and stable,
scarcely anyone but themselves ever entered the house. They were the
only genteel people of the district except the Yeobrights, and though
far from rich, they did not feel that necessity for preserving a
friendly face towards every man, bird, and beast which influenced
their poorer neighbours.
When the reddleman entered the garden the old man was looking through
his glass at the stain of blue sea in the distant landscape, the
little anchors on his buttons twinkling in the sun. He recognized
Venn as his companion on the highway, but made no remark on that
circumstance, merely saying, "Ah, reddleman--you here? Have a glass
of grog?"
Venn declined, on the plea of it being too early, and stated that
his business was with Miss Vye. The captain surveyed him from cap
to waistcoat and from waistcoat to leggings for a few moments, and
finally asked him to go indoors.
Miss Vye was not to be seen by anybody just then; and the reddleman
waited in the window-bench of the kitchen, his hands hanging across
his divergent knees, and his cap hanging from his hands.
"I suppose the young lady is not up yet?" he presently said to the
servant.
"Not quite yet. Folks never call upon ladies at this time of day."
"Then I'll step outside," said Venn. "If she is willing to see me,
will she please send out word, and I'll come in."
The reddleman left the house and loitered on the hill adjoining.
A considerable time elapsed, and no request for his presence was
brought. He was beginning to think that his scheme had failed, when
he beheld the form of Eustacia herself coming leisurely towards him.
A sense of novelty in giving audience to that singular figure had been
sufficient to draw her forth.
She seemed to feel, after a bare look at Diggory Venn, that the man
had come on a strange errand, and that he was not so mean as she
had thought him; for her close approach did not cause him to writhe
uneasily, or shift his feet, or show any of those little signs which
escape an ingenuous rustic at the advent of the uncommon in womankind.
On his inquiring if he might have a conversation with her she replied,
"Yes, walk beside me," and continued to move on.
Before they had gone far it occurred to the perspicacious
reddleman that he would have acted more wisely by appearing less
unimpressionable, and he resolved to correct the error as soon as he
could find opportunity.
"I have made so bold, miss, as to step across and tell you some
strange news which has come to my ears about that man."
"Ah! what man?"
He jerked his elbow to the south-east--the direction of the Quiet
Woman.