e late Mr. John Everdene, of Casterbridge.

"This may be called Fort meeting Feeble, hey, Boldwood?" said Troy.
A low gurgle of derisive laughter followed the words.

The paper fell from Boldwood's hands. Troy continued--

"Fifty pounds to marry Fanny. Good. Twenty-one pounds not to marry
Fanny, but Bathsheba. Good. Finale: already Bathsheba's husband.
Now, Boldwood, yours is the ridiculous fate which always attends
interference between a man and his wife. And another word. Bad as I
am, I am not such a villain as to make the marriage or misery of any
woman a matter of huckster and sale. Fanny has long ago left me. I
don't know where she is. I have searched everywhere. Another word
yet. You say you love Bathsheba; yet on the merest apparent evidence
you instantly believe in her dishonour. A fig for such love! Now
that I've taught you a lesson, take your money back again."

"I will not; I will not!" said Boldwood, in a hiss.

"Anyhow I won't have it," said Troy, contemptuously. He wrapped the
packet of gold in the notes, and threw the whole into the road.

Boldwood shook his clenched fist at him. "You juggler of Satan! You
black hound! But I'll punish you yet; mark me, I'll punish you yet!"

Another peal of laughter. Troy then closed the door, and locked
himself in.

Throughout the whole of that night Boldwood's dark form might have
been seen walking about the hills and downs of Weatherbury like an
unhappy Shade in the Mournful Fields by Acheron.

CHAPTER XXXV

AT AN UPPER WINDOW

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.
All the lights in the scene were yellow as to colour, and all the
shadows were attenuated as to form. The creeping plants about the
old manor-house were bowed with rows of heavy water drops, which
had upon objects behind them the effect of minute lenses of high
magnifying power.

Just before the clock struck five Gabriel Oak and Coggan passed the
village cross, and went on together to the fields. They were yet
barely in view of their mistress's house, when Oak fancied he saw the
opening of a casement in one of the upper windows. The two men were
at this moment partially screened by an elder bush, now beginning
to be enriched with bla