"You be asked to swear in a holy manner, and you swear like wicked Shimei, the son of Gera, who cursed as he came.
Young man, fie!"
"No, I don't!
'Tis you want to squander a pore boy's soul, Joseph Poorgrass — that's what 'tis!" said Cain, beginning to cry.
"All I mane is that in common truth 'twas Miss Everdene and Sergeant Troy, but in the horrible so-help-me truth that ye want to make of it perhaps 'twas somebody else!"
"There's no getting at the rights of it." said Gabriel, turning to his work.
"Cain Ball, you'll come to a bit of bread!" groaned Joseph Poorgrass.
Then the reapers' hooks were flourished again, and the old sounds went on.
Gabriel, without making any pretence of being lively, did nothing to show that he was particularly dull.
However, Coggan knew pretty nearly how the land lay, and when they were in a nook together he said —
"Don't take on about her, Gabriel.
What difference does it make whose sweetheart she is, since she can't be yours?"
"That's the very thing I say to myself." said Gabriel.
CHAPTER XXXIV
HOME AGAIN — A TRICKSTER
THAT same evening at dusk Gabriel was leaning over Coggan's garden-gate, taking an up-and-down survey before retiring to rest.
A vehicle of some kind was softly creeping along the grassy margin of the lane.
From it spread the tones of two women talking.
The tones were natural and not at all suppressed.
Oak instantly knew the voices to he those of Bathsheba and Liddy.
The carriage came opposite and passed by.
It was Miss Everdene's gig, and Liddy and her mistress were the only occupants of the seat.
Liddy was asking questions about the city of Bath, and her companion was answering them listlessly and unconcernedly.
Both Bathsheba and the horse seemed weary.
The exquisite relief of finding that she was here again, safe and sound, overpowered all reflection, and Oak could only luxuriate in the sense of it.
All grave reports were forgotten.
He lingered and lingered on, till there was no difference between the eastern and western expanses of sky, and the timid hares began to limp courageously round the dim hillocks.
Gabriel might have been there an additional half-hour when a dark form walked slowly by.
"Good-night, Gabriel." the passer said.
It was Boldwood.
"Good-night, sir." said Gabriel.
Boldwood likewise vanished up the road, and Oak shortly afterwards turned indoors to bed.
Farmer Boldwood went on towards Miss Everdene's house.
He reached the front, and approaching the entrance, saw a light in the parlour.
The blind was not drawn down, and inside the room was Bathsheba, looking over some papers or letters. Her back was towards Boldwood.
He went to the door, knocked, and waited with tense muscles and an aching brow.
Boldwood had not been outside his garden since his meeting with Bathsheba in the road to Yalbury.
Silent and alone, he had remained in moody meditation on woman's ways, deeming as essentials of the whole sex the accidents of the single one of their number he had ever closely beheld.
By degrees a more charitable temper had pervaded him, and this was the reason of his sally tonight.
He had come to apologize and beg forgiveness of Bathsheba with something like a sense of shame at his violence, having but just now learnt that she had returned — only from a visit to Liddy, as he supposed, the Bath escapade being quite unknown to him.
He inquired for Miss Everdene.
Liddy's manner was odd, but he did not notice it.
She went in, leaving him standing there, and in her absence the blind of the room containing Bathsheba was pulled down.
Boldwood augured ill from that sign.
Liddy came out.
"My mistress cannot see you, sir." she said.
The farmer instantly went out by the gate.
He as unforgiven — that was the issue of it all.
He had seen her who was to him simultaneously a delight and a torture, sitting in the room he had shared with her as a peculiarly privileged guest only a little earlier in he summer, and she had denied him an entrance there now.
Boldwood did not hurry homeward.