by Thomas Hardy
XX
When Lady Constantine awoke the next morning Swithin was nowhere to beseen. Before she was quite ready for breakfast she heard the key turn inthe door, and felt startled, till she remembered that the comer couldhardly be anybody but he. He brought a basket with provisions, an extracup-and-saucer, and so on. In a short space of time the kettle begansinging on the stove, and the morning meal was ready.
The sweet resinous air from the firs blew in upon them as they sat atbreakfast; the birds hopped round the door (which, somewhat riskily, theyventured to keep open); and at their elbow rose the lank column into anupper realm of sunlight, which only reached the cabin in fitful darts andflashes through the trees.
'I could be happy here for ever,' said she, clasping his hand. 'I wish Icould never see my great gloomy house again, since I am not rich enoughto throw it open, and live there as I ought to do. Poverty of this sortis not unpleasant at any rate. What are you thinking of?'
'I am thinking about my outing this morning. On reaching mygrandmother's she was only a little surprised to see me. I was obligedto breakfast there, or appear to do so, to divert suspicion and thisfood is supposed to be wanted for my dinner and supper. There will ofcourse be no difficulty in my obtaining an ample supply for any length oftime, as I can take what I like from the buttery without observation. Butas I looked in my grandmother's face this morning, and saw her lookingaffectionately in mine, and thought how she had never concealed anythingfrom me, and had always had my welfare at heart, I felt--that I shouldlike to tell her what we have done.'
'O no,--please not, Swithin!' she exclaimed piteously.
'Very well,' he answered. 'On no consideration will I do so without yourconsent.' And no more was said on the matter.
The morning was passed in applying wet rag and other remedies to thepurple line on Viviette's cheek; and in the afternoon they set up theequatorial under the replaced dome, to have it in order for nightobservations.
The evening was clear, dry, and remarkably cold by comparison with thedaytime weather. After a frugal supper they replenished the stove withcharcoal from the homestead, which they also burnt during the day,--anidea of Viviette's, that the smoke from a wood fire might not be seenmore frequently than was consistent with the occasional occupation of thecabin by Swithin, as heretofore.
At eight o'clock she insisted upon his ascending the tower forobservations, in strict pursuance of the idea on which their marriage hadbeen based, namely, that of restoring regularity to his studies.
The sky had a new and startling beauty that night. A broad, fluctuating,semicircular arch of vivid white light spanned the northern quarter ofthe heavens, reaching from the horizon to the star Eta in the GreaterBear. It was the Aurora Borealis, just risen up for the winter seasonout of the freezing seas of the north, where every autumn vapour was nowundergoing rapid congelation.
'O, let us sit and look at it!' she said; and they turned their backsupon the equatorial and the southern glories of the heavens to this newbeauty in a quarter which they seldom contemplated.
The lustre of the fixed stars was diminished to a sort of blueness.Little by little the arch grew higher against the dark void, like theform of the Spirit-maiden in the shades of Glenfinlas, till its crowndrew near the zenith, and threw a tissue over the whole waggon and horsesof the great northern constellation. Brilliant shafts radiated from theconvexity of the arch, coming and going silently. The temperature fell,and Lady Constantine drew her wrap more closely around her.
'We'll go down,' said Swithin. 'The cabin is beautifully warm. Whyshould we try to observe to-night? Indeed, we cannot; the Aurora lightoverpowers everything.'
'Very well. To-morrow night there will be no interruption. I shall begone.'
'You leave me to-morrow, Viviette?'
'Yes; to-morrow morning.'
The truth was that, with the progress of the hours and days, theconviction had been borne in upon Viviette more and more forcibly thatnot for kingdoms and principalities could she afford to risk thediscovery of her presence here by any living soul.
'But let me see your face, dearest,' he said. 'I don't think it will besafe for you to meet your brother yet.'
As it was too dark to see her face on the summit where they sat theydescended the winding staircase, and in the cabin Swithin examined thedamaged cheek. The line, though so far attenuated as not to beobservable by any one but a close observer, had not quite disappeared.But in consequence of her reiterated and almost tearful anxiety to go,and as there was a strong probability that her brother had left thehouse, Swithin decided to call at Welland next morning, and reconnoitrewith a view to her return.
Locking her in he crossed the dewy stubble into the park. The house wassilent and deserted; and only one tall stalk of smoke ascended from thechimneys. Notwithstanding that the hour was nearly nine he knocked atthe door.
'Is Lady Constantine at home?' asked Swithin, with a disingenuousness nowhabitual, yet unknown to him six months before.
'No, Mr. St. Cleeve; my lady has not returned from Bath. We expect herevery day.'
'Nobody staying in the house?'
'My lady's brother has been here; but he is gone on to Budmouth. He willcome again in two or three weeks, I understand.'
This was enough. Swithin said he would call again, and returned to thecabin, where, waking Viviette, who was not by nature an early riser, hewaited on the column till she was ready to breakfast. When this had beenshared they prepared to start.
A long walk was before them. Warborne station lay five miles distant,and the next station above that nine miles. They were bound for thelatter; their plan being that she should there take the train to thejunction where the whip accident had occurred, claim her luggage, andreturn with it to Warborne, as if from Bath.
The morning was cool and the walk not wearisome. When once they had leftbehind the stubble-field of their environment and the parish of Welland,they sauntered on comfortably, Lady Constantine's spirits rising as shewithdrew further from danger.
They parted by a little brook, about half a mile from the stationSwithin to return to Welland by the way he had come.
Lady Constantine telegraphed from the junction to Warborne for a carriageto be in readiness to meet her on her arrival; and then, waiting for thedown train, she travelled smoothly home, reaching Welland House aboutfive minutes sooner than Swithin reached the column hard by, afterfooting it all the way from where they had parted.