“And the next age his hated name
Shall utterly deface.”
At length he said to her, “I am a man to my word. I have kept my oath for twenty-one years; and now I can drink with a good conscience.... If I don’t do for him—well, I am a fearful practical joker when I choose! He has taken away everything from me, and by heavens, if I meet him I won’t answer for my deeds!”
These half-uttered words alarmed Elizabeth—all the more by reason of the still determination of Henchard’s mien.
“What will you do?” she asked cautiously, while trembling with disquietude, and guessing Henchard’s allusion only too well.
Henchard did not answer, and they went on till they had reached his cottage. “May I come in?” she said.
“No, no; not to-day,” said Henchard; and she went away; feeling that to caution Farfrae was almost her duty, as it was certainly her strong desire.
As on the Sunday, so on the week-days, Farfrae and Lucetta might have been seen flitting about the town like two butterflies—or rather like a bee and a butterfly in league for life. She seemed to take no pleasure in going anywhere except in her husband’s company; and hence when business would not permit him to waste an afternoon she remained indoors waiting for the time to pass till his return, her face being visible to Elizabeth-Jane from her window aloft. The latter, however, did not say to herself that Farfrae should be thankful for such devotion, but, full of her reading, she cited Rosalind’s exclamation: “Mistress, know yourself; down on your knees and thank Heaven fasting for a good man’s love.”
She kept her eye upon Henchard also. One day he answered her inquiry for his health by saying that he could not endure Abel Whittle’s pitying eyes upon him while they worked together in the yard. “He is such a fool,” said Henchard, “that he can never get out of his mind the time when I was master there.”
“I’ll come and wimble for you instead of him, if you will allow me,” said she. Her motive on going to the yard was to get an opportunity of observing the general position of affairs on Farfrae’s premises now that her stepfather was a workman there. Henchard’s threats had alarmed her so much that she wished to see his behaviour when the two were face to face.
For two or three days after her arrival Donald did not make any appearance. Then one afternoon the green door opened, and through came, first Farfrae, and at his heels Lucetta. Donald brought his wife forward without hesitation, it being obvious that he had no suspicion whatever of any antecedents in common between her and the now journeyman hay-trusser.