Accordingly, when watching on the night after the festival, the reddleman saw him ascend by the little path, lean over the front gate of Clym's garden, sigh, and turn to go back again.It was plain that Wildeve's intrigue was rather ideal than real.Venn retreated before him down the hill to a place where the path was merely a deep groove between the heather; here he mysteriously bent over the ground for a few minutes, and retired.
When Wildeve came on to that spot his ankle was caught by something, and he fell headlong.
As soon as he had recovered the power of respiration he sat up and listened.There was not a sound in the gloom beyond the spiritless stir of the summer wind.
Feeling about for the obstacle which had flung him down, he discovered that two tufts of heath had been tied together across the path, forming a loop, which to a traveller was certain overthrow.Wildeve pulled off the string that bound them, and went on with tolerable quickness.
On reaching home he found the cord to be of a reddish colour.
It was just what he had expected.
Although his weaknesses were not specially those akin to physical fear, this species of coup-de-Jarnac from one he knew too well troubled the mind of Wildeve.
But his movements were unaltered thereby.A night or two later he again went along the vale to Alderworth, taking the precaution of keeping out of any path.
The sense that he was watched, that craft was employed to circumvent his errant tastes, added piquancy to a journey so entirely sentimental, so long as the danger was of no fearful sort.He imagined that Venn and Mrs.Yeobright were in league, and felt that there was a certain legitimacy in combating such a coalition.
The heath tonight appeared to be totally deserted;and Wildeve, after looking over Eustacia's garden gate for some little time, with a cigar in his mouth, was tempted by the fascination that emotional smuggling had for his nature to advance towards the window, which was not quite closed, the blind being only partly drawn down.He could see into the room, and Eustacia was sitting there alone.
Wildeve contemplated her for a minute, and then retreating into the heath beat the ferns lightly, whereupon moths flew out alarmed.Securing one, he returned to the window, and holding the moth to the chink, opened his hand.
The moth made towards the candle upon Eustacia's table, hovered round it two or three times, and flew into the flame.
Eustacia started up.This had been a well-known signal in old times when Wildeve had used to come secretly wooing to Mistover.She at once knew that Wildeve was outside, but before she could consider what to do her husband came in from upstairs.Eustacia's face burnt crimson at the unexpected collision of incidents, and filled it with an animation that it too frequently lacked.
"You have a very high colour, dearest," said Yeobright, when he came close enough to see it."Your appearance would be no worse if it were always so.""I am warm," said Eustacia."I think I will go into the air for a few minutes.""Shall I go with you?"
"O no.I am only going to the gate."
She arose, but before she had time to get out of the room a loud rapping began upon the front door.
"I'll go--I'll go," said Eustacia in an unusually quick tone for her; and she glanced eagerly towards the window whence the moth had flown; but nothing appeared there.
"You had better not at this time of the evening,"he said.Clym stepped before her into the passage, and Eustacia waited, her somnolent manner covering her inner heat and agitation.
She listened, and Clym opened the door.No words were uttered outside, and presently he closed it and came back, saying, "Nobody was there.I wonder what that could have meant?"He was left to wonder during the rest of the evening, for no explanation offered itself, and Eustacia said nothing, the additional fact that she knew of only adding more mystery to the performance.
Meanwhile a little drama had been acted outside which saved Eustacia from all possibility of compromising herself that evening at least.Whilst Wildeve had been preparing his moth-signal another person had come behind him up to the gate.This man, who carried a gun in his hand, looked on for a moment at the other's operation by the window, walked up to the house, knocked at the door, and then vanished round the corner and over the hedge.
"Damn him!" said Wildeve."He has been watching me again."As his signal had been rendered futile by this uproarious rapping Wildeve withdrew, passed out at the gate, and walked quickly down the path without thinking of anything except getting away unnoticed.Halfway down the hill the path ran near a knot of stunted hollies, which in the general darkness of the scene stood as the pupil in a black eye.
When Wildeve reached this point a report startled his ear, and a few spent gunshots fell among the leaves around him.
There was no doubt that he himself was the cause of that gun's discharge; and he rushed into the clump of hollies, beating the bushes furiously with his stick; but nobody was there.This attack was a more serious matter than the last, and it was some time before Wildeve recovered his equanimity.A new and most unpleasant system of menace had begun, and the intent appeared to be to do him grievous bodily harm.Wildeve had looked upon Venn's first attempt as a species of horseplay, which the reddleman had indulged in for want of knowing better; but now the boundary line was passed which divides the annoying from the perilous.
Had Wildeve known how thoroughly in earnest Venn had become he might have been still more alarmed.
The reddleman had been almost exasperated by the sight of Wildeve outside Clym's house, and he was prepared to go to any lengths short of absolutely shooting him, to terrify the young innkeeper out of his recalcitrant impulses.
The doubtful legitimacy of such rough coercion did not disturb the mind of Venn.It troubles few such minds in such cases, and sometimes this is not to be regretted.