except for a
few commonplaces, till they had gone down an avenue on the town walls
called the Chalk Walk, leading to an angle where the North and West
escarpments met. From this high corner of the square earthworks a vast
extent of country could be seen. A footpath ran steeply down the green
slope, conducting from the shady promenade on the walls to a road at the
bottom of the scarp. It was by this path the Scotchman had to descend.

"Well, here's success to 'ee," said Henchard, holding out his right hand
and leaning with his left upon the wicket which protected the descent.
In the act there was the inelegance of one whose feelings are nipped and
wishes defeated. "I shall often think of this time, and of how you came
at the very moment to throw a light upon my difficulty."

Still holding the young man's hand he paused, and then added
deliberately: "Now I am not the man to let a cause be lost for want of
a word. And before ye are gone for ever I'll speak. Once more, will
ye stay? There it is, flat and plain. You can see that it isn't all
selfishness that makes me press 'ee; for my business is not quite so
scientific as to require an intellect entirely out of the common. Others
would do for the place without doubt. Some selfishness perhaps there
is, but there is more; it isn't for me to repeat what. Come bide with
me--and name your own terms. I'll agree to 'em willingly and 'ithout a
word of gainsaying; for, hang it, Farfrae, I like thee well!"

The young man's hand remained steady in Henchard's for a moment or two.
He looked over the fertile country that stretched beneath them, then
backward along the shaded walk reaching to the top of the town. His face
flushed.

"I never expected this--I did not!" he said. "It's Providence! Should
any one go against it? No; I'll not go to America; I'll stay and be your
man!"

His hand, which had lain lifeless in Henchard's, returned the latter's
grasp.

"Done," said Henchard.

"Done," said Donald Farfrae.

The face of Mr. Henchard beamed forth a satisfaction that was almost
fierce in its strength. "Now you are my friend!" he exclaimed. "Come
back to my house; let's clinch it at once by clear terms, so as to be
comfortable in our minds." Farfrae caught up his bag and retraced the
North-West Avenue in Henchard's company as he had come. Henchard was all
confidence now.

"I am the most distant fellow in the world when I don't care for a man,"
he said. "But when a man takes my