Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) (418 page)

‘It is too true also of me!  I dread that some accident may happen, and waste my days in meeting the trouble half-way.’

‘So our lives go on, and our labours stand still.  Now for the remedy.  Dear Lady Constantine, allow me to marry you.’

She started, and the wind without shook the building, sending up a yet intenser moan from the firs.

‘I mean, marry you quite privately.  Let it make no difference whatever to our outward lives for years, for I know that in my present position you could not possibly acknowledge me as husband publicly.  But by marrying at once we secure the certainty that we cannot be divided by accident, coaxing, or artifice; and, at ease on that point, I shall embrace my studies with the old vigour, and you yours.’

Lady Constantine was so agitated at the unexpected boldness of such a proposal from one hitherto so boyish and deferential that she sank into the observing-chair, her intention to remain for only a few minutes being quite forgotten.

She covered her face with her hands.  ‘No, no, I dare not!’ she whispered.

‘But is there a single thing else left to do?’ he pleaded, kneeling down beside her, less in supplication than in abandonment.  ‘What else can we do?’

‘Wait till you are famous.’

‘But I cannot be famous unless I strive, and this distracting condition prevents all striving!’

‘Could you not strive on if I — gave you a promise, a solemn promise, to be yours when your name is fairly well known?’

St. Cleeve breathed heavily.  ‘It will be a long, weary time,’ he said.  ‘And even with your promise I shall work but half-heartedly.  Every hour of study will be interrupted with “Suppose this or this happens;” “Suppose somebody persuades her to break her promise;” worse still, “Suppose some rival maligns me, and so seduces her away.”  No, Lady Constantine, dearest, best as you are, that element of distraction would still remain, and where that is, no sustained energy is possible.  Many erroneous things have been written and said by the sages, but never did they float a greater fallacy than that love serves as a stimulus to win the loved one by patient toil.’

‘I cannot argue with you,’ she said weakly.

‘My only possible other chance would lie in going away,’ he resumed after a moment’s reflection, with his eyes on the lantern flame, which waved and smoked in the currents of air that leaked into the dome from the fierce wind-stream without.  ‘If I might take away the equatorial, supposing it possible that I could find some suitable place for observing in the southern hemisphere, — say, at the Cape, — I
might
be able to apply myself to serious work again, after the lapse of a little time.  The southern constellations offer a less exhausted field for investigation.  I wonder if I might!’

‘You mean,’ she answered uneasily, ‘that you might apply yourself to work when your recollection of me began to fade, and my life to become a matter of indifference to you? . .  Yes, go!  No, — I cannot bear it!  The remedy is worse than the disease.  I cannot let you go away!’

‘Then how can you refuse the only condition on which I can stay, without ruin to my purpose and scandal to your name?  Dearest, agree to my proposal, as you love both me and yourself!’

He waited, while the fir-trees rubbed and prodded the base of the tower, and the wind roared around and shook it; but she could not find words to reply.

‘Would to God,’ he burst out, ‘that I might perish here, like Winstanley in his lighthouse!  Then the difficulty would be solved for you.’

‘You are so wrong, so very wrong, in saying so!’ she exclaimed passionately.  ‘You may doubt my wisdom, pity my short-sightedness; but there is one thing you do know, — that I love you dearly!’

‘You do, — I know it!’ he said, softened in a moment.  ‘But it seems such a simple remedy for the difficulty that I cannot see how you can mind adopting it, if you care so much for me as I do for you.’

‘Should we live . . . just as we are, exactly, . . . supposing I agreed?’ she faintly inquired.

‘Yes, that is my idea.’

‘Quite privately, you say.  How could — the marriage be quite private?’

‘I would go away to London and get a license.  Then you could come to me, and return again immediately after the ceremony.  I could return at leisure and not a soul in the world would know what had taken place.  Think, dearest, with what a free conscience you could then assist me in my efforts to plumb these deeps above us!  Any feeling that you may now have against clandestine meetings as such would then be removed, and our hearts would be at rest.’

There was a certain scientific practicability even in his love-making, and it here came out excellently.  But she sat on with suspended breath, her heart wildly beating, while he waited in open-mouthed expectation.  Each was swayed by the emotion within them, much as the candle-flame was swayed by the tempest without.  It was the most critical evening of their lives.

The pale rays of the little lantern fell upon her beautiful face, snugly and neatly bound in by her black bonnet; but not a beam of the lantern leaked out into the night to suggest to any watchful eye that human life at its highest excitement was beating within the dark and isolated tower; for the dome had no windows, and every shutter that afforded an opening for the telescope was hermetically closed.  Predilections and misgivings so equally strove within her still youthful breast that she could not utter a word; her intention wheeled this way and that like the balance of a watch.  His unexpected proposition had brought about the smartest encounter of inclination with prudence, of impulse with reserve, that she had ever known.

Of all the reasons that she had expected him to give for his urgent request to see her this evening, an offer of marriage was probably the last.  Whether or not she had ever amused herself with hypothetical fancies on such a subject, — and it was only natural that she should vaguely have done so, — the courage in her protege coolly to advance it, without a hint from herself that such a proposal would be tolerated, showed her that there was more in his character than she had reckoned on: and the discovery almost frightened her.  The humour, attitude, and tenor of her attachment had been of quite an unpremeditated quality, unsuggestive of any such audacious solution to their distresses as this.

‘I repeat my question, dearest,’ he said, after her long pause.  ‘Shall it be done?  Or shall I exile myself, and study as best I can, in some distant country, out of sight and sound?’

‘Are those the only alternatives?  Yes, yes; I suppose they are!’  She waited yet another moment, bent over his kneeling figure, and kissed his forehead.  ‘Yes; it shall be done,’ she whispered.  ‘I will marry you.’

‘My angel, I am content!’

He drew her yielding form to his heart, and her head sank upon his shoulder, as he pressed his two lips continuously upon hers.  To such had the study of celestial physics brought them in the space of eight months, one week, and a few odd days.

‘I am weaker than you, — far the weaker,’ she went on, her tears falling.  ‘Rather than lose you out of my sight I will marry without stipulation or condition.  But — I put it to your kindness — grant me one little request.’

He instantly assented.

‘It is that, in consideration of my peculiar position in this county, — O, you can’t understand it! — you will not put an end to the absolute secrecy of our relationship without my full assent.  Also, that you will never come to Welland House without first discussing with me the advisability of the visit, accepting my opinion on the point.  There, see how a timid woman tries to fence herself in!’

‘My dear lady-love, neither of those two high-handed courses should I have taken, even had you not stipulated against them.  The very essence of our marriage plan is that those two conditions are kept.  I see as well as you do, even more than you do, how important it is that for the present, — ay, for a long time hence — I should still be but the curate’s lonely son, unattached to anybody or anything, with no object of interest but his science; and you the recluse lady of the manor, to whom he is only an acquaintance.’

‘See what deceits love sows in honest minds!’

‘It would be a humiliation to you at present that I could not bear if a marriage between us were made public; an inconvenience without any compensating advantage.’

‘I am so glad you assume it without my setting it before you!  Now I know you are not only good and true, but politic and trustworthy.’

‘Well, then, here is our covenant.  My lady swears to marry me; I, in return for such great courtesy, swear never to compromise her by intruding at Welland House, and to keep the marriage concealed till I have won a position worthy of her.’

‘Or till I request it to be made known,’ she added, possibly foreseeing a contingency which had not occurred to him.

‘Or till you request it,’ he repeated.

‘It is agreed,’ murmured Lady Constantine,

CHAPTER XVI

After this there only remained to be settled between them the practical details of the project.

These were that he should leave home in a couple of days, and take lodgings either in the distant city of Bath or in a convenient suburb of London, till a sufficient time should have elapsed to satisfy legal requirements; that on a fine morning at the end of this time she should hie away to the same place, and be met at the station by St. Cleeve, armed with the marriage license; whence they should at once proceed to the church fixed upon for the ceremony; returning home independently in the course of the next two or three days.

While these tactics were under discussion the two-and-thirty winds of heaven continued, as before, to beat about the tower, though their onsets appeared to be somewhat lessening in force.  Himself now calmed and satisfied, Swithin, as is the wont of humanity, took serener views of Nature’s crushing mechanics without, and said, ‘The wind doesn’t seem disposed to put the tragic period to our hopes and fears that I spoke of in my momentary despair.’

‘The disposition of the wind is as vicious as ever,’ she answered, looking into his face with pausing thoughts on, perhaps, other subjects than that discussed.  ‘It is your mood of viewing it that has changed.  “There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”‘

And, as if flatly to stultify Swithin’s assumption, a circular hurricane, exceeding in violence any that had preceded it, seized hold upon Rings-Hill Speer at that moment with the determination of a conscious agent.  The first sensation of a resulting catastrophe was conveyed to their intelligence by the flapping of the candle-flame against the lantern-glass; then the wind, which hitherto they had heard rather than felt, rubbed past them like a fugitive.  Swithin beheld around and above him, in place of the concavity of the dome, the open heaven, with its racing clouds, remote horizon, and intermittent gleam of stars.  The dome that had covered the tower had been whirled off bodily; and they heard it descend crashing upon the trees.

Finding himself untouched Swithin stretched out his arms towards Lady Constantine, whose apparel had been seized by the spinning air, nearly lifting her off her legs.  She, too, was as yet unharmed.  Each held the other for a moment, when, fearing that something further would happen, they took shelter in the staircase.

‘Dearest, what an escape!’ he said, still holding her.

‘What is the accident?’ she asked.  ‘Has the whole top really gone?’

‘The dome has been blown off the roof.’

As soon as it was practicable he relit the extinguished lantern, and they emerged again upon the leads, where the extent of the disaster became at once apparent.  Saving the absence of the enclosing hemisphere all remained the same.  The dome, being constructed of wood, was light by comparison with the rest of the structure, and the wheels which allowed it horizontal, or, as Swithin expressed it, azimuth motion, denied it a firm hold upon the walls; so that it had been lifted off them like a cover from a pot.  The equatorial stood in the midst as it had stood before.

Having executed its grotesque purpose the wind sank to comparative mildness.  Swithin took advantage of this lull by covering up the instruments with cloths, after which the betrothed couple prepared to go downstairs.

But the events of the night had not yet fully disclosed themselves.  At this moment there was a sound of footsteps and a knocking at the door below.

‘It can’t be for me!’ said Lady Constantine.  ‘I retired to my room before leaving the house, and told them on no account to disturb me.’

She remained at the top while Swithin went down the spiral.  In the gloom he beheld Hannah.

‘O Master Swithin, can ye come home!  The wind have blowed down the chimley that don’t smoke, and the pinning-end with it; and the old ancient house, that have been in your family so long as the memory of man, is naked to the world!  It is a mercy that your grammer were not killed, sitting by the hearth, poor old soul, and soon to walk wi’ God, — for ‘a ‘s getting wambling on her pins, Mr. Swithin, as aged folks do.  As I say, ‘a was all but murdered by the elements, and doing no more harm than the babes in the wood, nor speaking one harmful word.  And the fire and smoke were blowed all across house like a chapter in Revelation; and your poor reverent father’s features scorched to flakes, looking like the vilest ruffian, and the gilt frame spoiled!  Every flitch, every eye-piece, and every chine is buried under the walling; and I fed them pigs with my own hands, Master Swithin, little thinking they would come to this end.  Do ye collect yourself, Mr. Swithin, and come at once!’

‘I will, — I will.  I’ll follow you in a moment.  Do you hasten back again and assist.’

When Hannah had departed the young man ran up to Lady Constantine, to whom he explained the accident.  After sympathizing with old Mrs. Martin Lady Constantine added, ‘I thought something would occur to mar our scheme!’

‘I am not quite sure of that yet.’

On a short consideration with him, she agreed to wait at the top of the tower till he could come back and inform her if the accident were really so serious as to interfere with his plan for departure.  He then left her, and there she sat in the dark, alone, looking over the parapet, and straining her eyes in the direction of the homestead.