emed a nursery of pestilences small and great, in the
immediate neighbourhood of comfort and health, and Bathsheba arose
with a tremor at the thought of having passed the night on the brink
of so dismal a place.

There were now other footsteps to be heard along the road.
Bathsheba's nerves were still unstrung: she crouched down out of
sight again, and the pedestrian came into view. He was a schoolboy,
with a bag slung over his shoulder containing his dinner, and a
book in his hand. He paused by the gate, and, without looking up,
continued murmuring words in tones quite loud enough to reach her
ears.

"'O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, O Lord':--that I know out o' book.
'Give us, give us, give us, give us, give us':--that I know. 'Grace
that, grace that, grace that, grace that':--that I know." Other
words followed to the same effect. The boy was of the dunce class
apparently; the book was a psalter, and this was his way of learning
the collect. In the worst attacks of trouble there appears to be
always a superficial film of consciousness which is left disengaged
and open to the notice of trifles, and Bathsheba was faintly amused
at the boy's method, till he too passed on.

By this time stupor had given place to anxiety, and anxiety began to
make room for hunger and thirst. A form now appeared upon the rise
on the other side of the swamp, half-hidden by the mist, and came
towards Bathsheba. The woman--for it was a woman--approached with
her face askance, as if looking earnestly on all sides of her.
When she got a little further round to the left, and drew nearer,
Bathsheba could see the newcomer's profile against the sunny sky, and
knew the wavy sweep from forehead to chin, with neither angle nor
decisive line anywhere about it, to be the familiar contour of Liddy
Smallbury.

Bathsheba's heart bounded with gratitude in the thought that she was
not altogether deserted, and she jumped up. "Oh, Liddy!" she said,
or attempted to say; but the words had only been framed by her lips;
there came no sound. She had lost her voice by exposure to the
clogged atmosphere all these hours of night.

"Oh, ma'am! I am so glad I have found you," said the girl, as soon
as she saw Bathsheba.

"You can't come across," Bathsheba said in a whisper, which she
vainly endeavoured to make loud enough to reach Liddy's ears. Liddy,
not knowing this, stepped down upon the swamp, saying, as she did so,
"It will bear me up, I think."