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Updated: July 10, 2025
A hundred times she had been upon the point of telling her daughter Elizabeth-Jane the true story of her life, the tragical crisis of which had been the transaction at Weydon Fair, when she was not much older than the girl now beside her. But she had refrained.
Those notes were a signal that all had gone well; that there had been no slip 'twixt cup and lip in this case; that Elizabeth-Jane and Donald Farfrae were man and wife. Henchard did not care to ride any further with his chattering companions after hearing this sound.
Her emotions rose, fell, undulated, filled her with wild surmise at their suddenness; and so passed Lucetta's experiences of that day. Poor Elizabeth-Jane, little thinking what her malignant star had done to blast the budding attentions she had won from Donald Farfrae, was glad to hear Lucetta's words about remaining.
He is taking her home. They are almost there by this time." "And you are sure she can get home?" Elizabeth-Jane was quite sure. "Your stepfather saved her?" "Entirely." Farfrae checked his horse's pace; she guessed why. He was thinking that it would be best not to intrude on the other two just now.
Now this was not strictly true; but that something about the young man that hyperborean crispness, stringency, and charm, as of a well-braced musical instrument, which had awakened the interest of Henchard, and of Elizabeth-Jane and of the Three Mariners' jovial crew, at sight, made his unexpected presence here attractive to Lucetta.
As soon as he recognized them he started. "What, Abel Whittle; is it that ye are heere?" said Farfrae. "Ay, yes sir! You see he was kind-like to mother when she wer here below, though 'a was rough to me." "Who are you talking of?" "O sir Mr. Henchet! Didn't ye know it? He's just gone about half-an-hour ago, by the sun; for I've got no watch to my name." "Not dead?" faltered Elizabeth-Jane.
The sense of the supernatural was strong in this unhappy man, and he turned away as one might have done in the actual presence of an appalling miracle. He covered his eyes and bowed his head. Without looking again into the stream he took his coat and hat, and went slowly away. Presently he found himself by the door of his own dwelling. To his surprise Elizabeth-Jane was standing there.
He surprised the young woman whom he had looked upon as his all in this world by saying to her, as if he did not care about her more: "I am going to leave Casterbridge, Elizabeth-Jane." "Leave Casterbridge!" she cried, "and leave me?"
They stood in silence while he ran into the cottage; returning in a moment with a crumpled scrap of paper. On it there was pencilled as follows: "That Elizabeth-Jane Farfrae be not told of my death, or made to grieve on account of me. "& that I be not bury'd in consecrated ground. "& that no sexton be asked to toll the bell. "& that nobody is wished to see my dead body.
He laid the poker across his knee, bent it as if it were a twig, flung it down, and came away from the door. It was at this time that Elizabeth-Jane, having heard where her stepfather was, entered the room with a pale and agonized countenance. The choir and the rest of the company moved off, in accordance with their half-pint regulation.
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