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Updated: May 31, 2025
If we only had that pair over the hedge we might do something." "Which pair?" "Mr. Boldwood's Tidy and Moll." "Then wait here till I come hither again," said Gabriel. He ran down the hill towards Farmer Boldwood's. "Farmer Boldwood is not at home," said Maryann. "All the better," said Coggan. "I know what he's gone for."
The strange neglect which had produced this ruin and waste became the subject of whispered talk among all the people round; and it was elicited from one of Boldwood's men that forgetfulness had nothing to do with it, for he had been reminded of the danger to his corn as many times and as persistently as inferiors dared to do.
On examining her heart it appeared beyond measure strange that the subject of which the season might have been supposed suggestive the event in the hall at Boldwood's was not agitating her at all; but instead, an agonizing conviction that everybody abjured her for what she could not tell and that Oak was the ringleader of the recusants.
Throughout the whole of that night Boldwood's dark downs of Weatherbury like an unhappy Shade in the Mournful Fields by Acheron. IT was very early the next morning a time of sun and dew. The confused beginnings of many birds' songs spread into the healthy air, and the wan blue of the heaven was here and there coated with thin webs of incorporeal cloud which were of no effect in obscuring day.
It was the first time in Boldwood's life that such an event had occurred. The same fascination that caused him to think it an act which had a deliberate motive prevented him from regarding it as an impertinence. He looked again at the direction. The mysterious influences of night invested the writing with the presence of the unknown writer.
"Maryann, you go to bed," Gabriel shouted to her from the top of the hedge. Springing down into Boldwood's pastures, each pocketed his halter to hide it from the horses, who, seeing the men empty-handed, docilely allowed themselves to be seized by the mane, when the halters were dexterously slipped on.
How did this remarkable reappearance effect itself when he was supposed by many to be at the bottom of the sea? Oak had in some slight measure been prepared for the presence of Troy by hearing a rumour of his return just before entering Boldwood's house; but before he had weighed that information, this fatal event had been superimposed.
Boldwood, as every one supposed he would do, had pleaded guilty, and had been sentenced to death. The conviction that Boldwood had not been morally responsible for his later acts now became general. Facts elicited previous to the trial had pointed strongly in the same direction, but they had not been of sufficient weight to lead to an order for an examination into the state of Boldwood's mind.
"They do, but wrongly applied. I don't trifle with him; but then, I have nothing to do with him." Oak was unfortunately led on to speak of Boldwood's rival in a wrong tone to her after all. "I wish you had never met that young Sergeant Troy, miss," he sighed. Bathsheba's steps became faintly spasmodic. "Why?" she asked. "He is not good enough for 'ee."
Had she known Boldwood's moods, her blame would have been fearful, and the stain upon her heart ineradicable. Moreover, had she known her present power for good or evil over this man, she would have trembled at her responsibility. Luckily for her present, unluckily for her future tran- quillity, her understanding had not yet told her what Boldwood was.
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