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Updated: July 19, 2025
The speaker and his companion softly moved on, passed through the wicket, and into the coach-road. Arrived at the clerk's house at the further boundary of the park, they paused to part. 'Now for your half o' the bargain, said Clerk Crickett. 'What's your line o' life, and what d'ye come here for? 'I'm the reporter to the Casterbridge Chronicle, and I come to pick up the news. Good-night.
'Tis no miss who came here to see our steward last night whenever she came or wherever she vanished. Do you think he would ha' let a miss get here how she could, go away how she would, without breakfast or help of any kind? Elizabeth shook her head Mrs. Crickett looked at her solemnly.
'Well, said Clerk Crickett, turning to the man in black, 'now you've been among us so long, and d'know us so well, won't ye tell us what ye've come here for, and what your trade is? 'I am no trade, said the thin man, smiling, 'and I came to see the wickedness of the land. 'I said thou wast one o' the devil's brood wi' thy black clothes, replied a sturdy ringer, who had not spoken before.
'Ay, ay, Elizabeth, rejoined Mrs. Crickett with a satirical sigh, as she turned on her foot to go home, 'good people like you may say so, but I have always found Providence a different sort of feller.
Crickett, had gone out to supper. She then came back to the inn and went to bed. 'Where's the landlord? said Manston. Mr. Springrove came up, walking feebly, and wrapped in a cloak, and corroborated the evidence given by the rector. 'Did she look ill, or annoyed, when she came? said the steward. 'I can't say. I didn't see; but I think 'What do you think?
Crickett unfolded the paper, took out the hair, and waved it on high before the perplexed eyes of Elizabeth, which immediately mooned and wandered after it like a cat's. 'What is it? said Mrs. Leat, contracting her eyelids, and stretching out towards the invisible object a narrow bony hand that would have been an unmitigated delight to the pencil of Carlo Crivelli. 'You shall hear, said Mrs.
Crickett," says she, "your wife will soon settle you as she did her other two: here's a glass o' rum, for I shan't see your poor face this time next year." I swallered the rum, called again next year, and said, "Mrs. Springrove, you gave me a glass o' rum last year because I was going to die here I be alive still, you see." "Well said, clerk! Here's two glasses for you now, then," says she.
'Clerk Crickett, I d' fancy you d' know everything about everybody, said Gad. 'Well so's, said the clerk modestly. 'I do know a little. It comes to me. 'And I d' know where from. 'Ah. 'That wife o' thine. She's an entertainen woman, not to speak disrespectful. 'She is: and a winnen one. Look at the husbands she've had God bless her!
Crickett, twice a widow, and now the parish clerk's wife, a fine-framed, scandal-loving woman, with a peculiar corner to her eye by which, without turning her head, she could see what people were doing almost behind her, lived in a cottage standing nearer to the old manor-house than any other in the village of Carriford, and she had on that account been temporarily engaged by the steward, as a respectable kind of charwoman and general servant, until a settled arrangement could be made with some person as permanent domestic.
Some were only half dressed, and, to add to the horror, among them was Clerk Crickett, running up and down with a face streaming with blood, ghastly and pitiful to see, his excitement being so great that he had not the slightest conception of how, when, or where he came by the wound. The crowd was now busy at work, and tried to save a little of the furniture of the inn.
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