d more seemed to
proceed from an unconscious desire to show unconcern by making a
remark, which is noticeable in the ingenuous when they are acting by
stealth. "You are not a Weatherbury man?" she said, timorously.
"I am not. I am the new shepherd--just arrived."
"Only a shepherd--and you seem almost a farmer by your ways."
"Only a shepherd," Gabriel repeated, in a dull cadence of finality.
His thoughts were directed to the past, his eyes to the feet of the
girl; and for the first time he saw lying there a bundle of some
sort. She may have perceived the direction of his face, for she said
coaxingly,--
"You won't say anything in the parish about having seen me here, will
you--at least, not for a day or two?"
"I won't if you wish me not to," said Oak.
"Thank you, indeed," the other replied. "I am rather poor, and I
don't want people to know anything about me." Then she was silent
and shivered.
"You ought to have a cloak on such a cold night," Gabriel observed.
"I would advise 'ee to get indoors."
"O no! Would you mind going on and leaving me? I thank you much for
what you have told me."
"I will go on," he said; adding hesitatingly,--"Since you are not
very well off, perhaps you would accept this trifle from me. It is
only a shilling, but it is all I have to spare."
"Yes, I will take it," said the stranger gratefully.
She extended her hand; Gabriel his. In feeling for each other's palm
in the gloom before the money could be passed, a minute incident
occurred which told much. Gabriel's fingers alighted on the young
woman's wrist. It was beating with a throb of tragic intensity. He
had frequently felt the same quick, hard beat in the femoral artery
of his lambs when overdriven. It suggested a consumption too great
of a vitality which, to judge from her figure and stature, was
already too little.
"What is the matter?"
"Nothing."
"But there is?"
"No, no, no! Let your having seen me be a secret!"
"Very well; I will. Good-night, again."
"Good-night."
The young girl remained motionless by the tree, and Gabriel descended
into the village of Weatherbury, or Lower Longpuddle as it was
sometimes called. He fancied that he had felt himself in the
penumbra of a very deep sadness when touching that slight and fragile
creature. But wisdom lies in moderating mere impressions, and
Gabriel endeavoured to think little of this.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MALTHOUSE--THE CHAT--NEWS
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