The Woodlanders Part 2 by Thomas Hardy (best romantic books to read txt) 📕

Admitted,  To The Urgency Of His Questioning,  A Good Deal

Concerning her Past Levities.  Putting all Things Together,  He

Could Hardly Avoid Connecting fitzpiers'S Mysterious Visits To

This Spot With Suke'S Residence Under His Roof.  But He Made

Himself Fairly Easy: The Vessel In which They Were About To

Emigrate Sailed that Month; And Then Suke Would Be Out Of

Fitzpiers'S Way Forever.

The Interval At Last Expired,  And The Eve Of Their Departure

Arrived.  They Were Pausing in the Room Of The Cottage Allotted to

Them By Tim'S Father,  After A Busy Day Of Preparation,  Which Left

Them Weary.  In a Corner Stood Their Boxes,  Crammed and Corded,

Their Large Case For The Hold Having already Been Sent Away.  The

Firelight Shone Upon Suke'S Fine Face And Form As She Stood

Looking into It,  And Upon The Face Of Tim Seated in a Corner,  And

Upon The Walls Of His Father'S House,  Which He Was Beholding that

Night Almost For The Last Time.

Tim Tangs Was Not Happy.  This Scheme Of Emigration Was Dividing

Him From His Father--For Old Tangs Would On No Account Leave

Hintock--And Had It Not Been For Suke'S Reputation And His Own

Dignity,  Tim Would At The Last Moment Have Abandoned the Project.

As He Sat In the Back Part Of The Room He Regarded her Moodily,

And The Fire And The Boxes.  One Thing he Had Particularly Noticed

This Evening--She Was Very Restless; Fitful In her Actions,  Unable

To Remain Seated,  And In a Marked degree Depressed.

"Sorry That You Be Going,  After All,  Suke?" He Said.

She Sighed involuntarily.  "I Don'T Know But That I Be," She

Answered.  "'Tis Natural,  Isn'T It,  When One Is Going away?"

"But You Wasn'T Born Here As I Was."

"No."

"There'S Folk Left Behind That You'D Fain Have With 'Ee,  I

Reckon?"

"Why Do You Think That?"

"I'Ve Seen Things And I'Ve Heard Things; And,  Suke,  I Say 'Twill

Be A Good Move For Me To Get 'Ee Away.  I Don'T Mind His Leavings

Abroad,  But I Do Mind 'Em At Home."

Suke'S Face Was Not Changed from Its Aspect Of Listless

Indifference By The Words.  She Answered nothing; And Shortly

After He Went Out For His Customary Pipe Of Tobacco At The Top Of

The Garden.

The Restlessness Of Suke Had Indeed owed its Presence To The

Gentleman Of Tim'S Suspicions,  But In a Different--And It Must Be

Added in justice To Her--More Innocent Sense Than He Supposed,

Judging from Former Doings.  She Had Accidentally Discovered that

Fitzpiers Was In the Habit Of Coming secretly Once Or Twice A Week

To Hintock,  And Knew That This Evening was A Favorite One Of The

Seven For His Journey.  As She Was Going next Day To Leave The

Country,  Suke Thought There Could Be No Great Harm In giving way

To A Little Sentimentality By Obtaining a Glimpse Of Him Quite

Unknown To Himself Or To Anybody,  And Thus Taking a Silent Last

Farewell.  Aware That Fitzpiers'S Time For Passing was At Hand She

Thus Betrayed her Feeling.  No Sooner,  Therefore,  Had Tim Left The

Room Than She Let Herself Noiselessly Out Of The House,  And

Hastened to The Corner Of The Garden,  Whence She Could Witness The

Surgeon'S Transit Across The Scene--If He Had Not Already Gone By.

Her Light Cotton Dress Was Visible To Tim Lounging in the Arbor Of

The Opposite Corner,  Though He Was Hidden From Her.  He Saw Her

Stealthily Climb Into The Hedge,  And So Ensconce Herself There

That Nobody Could Have The Least Doubt Her Purpose Was To Watch

Unseen For A Passer-By.

He Went Across To The Spot And Stood Behind Her.  Suke Started,

Having in her Blundering way Forgotten That He Might Be Near.  She

At Once Descended from The Hedge.

"So He'S Coming to-Night," Said Tim,  Laconically.  "And We Be

Always Anxious To See Our Dears."

"He Is Coming to-Night," She Replied,  With Defiance.  "And We Be

Anxious For Our Dears."

"Then Will You Step In-Doors,  Where Your Dear Will Soon Jine 'Ee?

We'Ve To Mouster By Half-Past Three To-Morrow,  And If We Don'T Get

To Bed by Eight At Latest Our Faces Will Be As Long As Clock-Cases

All Day."

She Hesitated for A Minute,  But Ultimately Obeyed,  Going slowly

Down The Garden To The House,  Where He Heard The Door-Latch Click

Behind Her.

Tim Was Incensed beyond Measure.  His Marriage Had So Far Been A

Total Failure,  A Source Of Bitter Regret; And The Only Course For

Improving his Case,  That Of Leaving the Country,  Was A Sorry,  And

Possibly Might Not Be A Very Effectual One.  Do What He Would,  His

Domestic Sky Was Likely To Be Overcast To The End Of The Day.

Thus He Brooded,  And His Resentment Gathered force.  He Craved a

Means Of Striking one Blow Back At The Cause Of His Cheerless

Plight,  While He Was Still On The Scene Of His Discomfiture.  For

Some Minutes No Method Suggested itself,  And Then He Had An Idea.

Coming to A Sudden Resolution,  He Hastened along The Garden,  And

Entered the One Attached to The Next Cottage,  Which Had Formerly

Been The Dwelling of A Game-Keeper.  Tim Descended the Path To The

Back Of The House,  Where Only An Old Woman Lived at Present,  And

Reaching the Wall He Stopped.  Owing to The Slope Of The Ground

The Roof-Eaves Of The Linhay Were Here Within Touch,  And He Thrust

His Arm Up Under Them,  Feeling about In the Space On The Top Of

The Wall-Plate.

"Ah,  I Thought My Memory Didn'T Deceive Me!" He Lipped silently.

With Some Exertion He Drew Down A Cobwebbed object Curiously

Framed in iron,  Which Clanked as He Moved it.  It Was About Three

Feet In length And Half As Wide.  Tim Contemplated it As Well As

He Could In the Dying light Of Day,  And Raked off The Cobwebs With

His Hand.

"That Will Spoil His Pretty Shins For'N,  I Reckon!" He Said.

It Was A Man-Trap.

Were The Inventors Of Automatic Machines To Be Ranged according to

The Excellence Of Their Devices For Producing sound Artistic

Torture,  The Creator Of The Man-Trap Would Occupy A Very

Respectable If Not A Very High Place.

It Should Rather,  However,  Be Said,  The Inventor Of The Particular

Form Of Man-Trap Of Which This Found In the Keeper'S Out-House Was

A Specimen.  For There Were Other Shapes And Other Sizes,

Instruments Which,  If Placed in a Row Beside One Of The Type

Disinterred by Tim,  Would Have Worn The Subordinate Aspect Of The

Bears,  Wild Boars,  Or Wolves In a Travelling menagerie,  As

Compared with The Leading lion Or Tiger.  In short,  Though Many

Varieties Had Been In use During those Centuries Which We Are

Accustomed to Look Back Upon As The True And Only Period Of Merry

England--In The Rural Districts More Especially--And Onward Down

To The Third Decade Of The Nineteenth Century,  This Model Had

Borne The Palm,  And Had Been Most Usually Followed when The

Orchards And Estates Required new Ones.

There Had Been The Toothless Variety Used by The Softer-Hearted

Landlords--Quite Contemptible In their Clemency.  The Jaws Of

These Resembled the Jaws Of An Old Woman To Whom Time Has Left

Nothing but Gums.  There Were Also The Intermediate Or Half-

Toothed sorts,  Probably Devised by The Middle-Natured squires,  Or

Those Under The Influence Of Their Wives: Two Inches Of Mercy,  Two

Inches Of Cruelty,  Two Inches Of Mere Nip,  Two Inches Of Probe,

And So On,  Through The Whole Extent Of The Jaws.  There Were Also,

As A Class Apart,  The Bruisers,  Which Did Not Lacerate The Flesh,

But Only Crushed the Bone

The Sight Of One Of These Gins When Set Produced a Vivid

Impression That It Was Endowed with Life.  It Exhibited the

Combined aspects Of A Shark,  A Crocodile,  And A Scorpion.  Each

Tooth Was In the Form Of A Tapering spine,  Two And A Quarter

Inches Long,  Which,  When The Jaws Were Closed,  Stood In

Alternation From This Side And From That.  When They Were Open,

The Two Halves Formed a Complete Circle Between Two And Three Feet

In Diameter,  The Plate Or Treading-Place In the Midst Being about

A Foot Square,  While From Beneath Extended in opposite Directions

The Soul Of The Apparatus,  The Pair Of Springs,  Each One Being of

A Stiffness To Render Necessary A Lever Or The Whole Weight Of The

Body When Forcing it Down.

There Were Men At This Time Still Living at Hintock Who Remembered

When The Gin And Others Like It Were In use.  Tim Tangs'S Great-

Uncle Had Endured a Night Of Six Hours In this Very Trap,  Which

Lamed him For Life.  Once A Keeper Of Hintock Woods Set It On The

Track Of A Poacher,  And Afterwards,  Coming back That Way,

Forgetful Of What He Had Done,  Walked into It Himself.  The Wound

Brought On Lockjaw,  Of Which He Died.  This Event Occurred during

The Thirties,  And By The Year 1840 The Use Of Such Implements Was

Well-Nigh Discontinued in the Neighborhood.  But Being made

Entirely Of Iron,  They By No Means Disappeared,  And In almost

Every Village One Could Be Found In some Nook Or Corner As Readily

As This Was Found By Tim.  It Had,  Indeed,  Been A Fearful

Amusement Of Tim And Other Hintock Lads--Especially Those Who Had

A Dim Sense Of Becoming renowned poachers When They Reached their

Prime--To Drag Out This Trap From Its Hiding,  Set It,  And Throw It

With Billets Of Wood,  Which Were Penetrated by The Teeth To The

Depth Of Near An Inch.

As Soon As He Had Examined the Trap,  And Found That The Hinges And

Springs Were Still Perfect,  He Shouldered it Without More Ado,  And

Returned with His Burden To His Own Garden,