h　was　not　quite　closed；　the　blind　being　only　partly　drawn　down。　　He　could　see　into　the　room；　and　Eustacia　was　sitting　there　alone。　　Wildeve　contemplated　her　for　a　minute；　and　then　retreating　into　the　heath　beat　the　ferns　lightly；　whereupon　moths　flew　out　alarmed。　　Securing　one；　he　returned　to　the　window；　and　holding　the　moth　to　the　chink；　opened　his　hand。　　The　moth　made　towards　the　candle　upon　Eustacia’s　table；　hovered　round　it　two　or　three　times；　and　flew　into　the　flame。
  Eustacia　started　up。　　This　had　been　a　well…known　signal　in　old　times　when　Wildeve　had　used　to　e　secretly　wooing　to　Mistover。　　She　at　once　knew　that　Wildeve　was　outside；　but　before　she　could　consider　what　to　do　her　husband　came　in　from　upstairs。　　Eustacia’s　face　burnt　crimson　at　the　unexpected　collision　of　incidents；　and　filled　it　with　an　animation　that　it　too　frequently　lacked。
  “You　have　a　very　high　colour；　dearest；”　said　Yeobright；　when　he　came　close　enough　to　see　it。　　“Your　appearance　would　be　no　worse　if　it　were　always　so。”
  “I　am　warm；”　said　Eustacia。　　“I　think　I　will　go　into　the　air　for　a　few　minutes。”
  “Shall　I　go　with　you？”
  “O　no。　　I　am　only　going　to　the　gate。”
  She　arose；　but　before　she　had　time　to　get　out　of　the　room　a　loud　rapping　began　upon　the　front　door。
  “I’ll　go—I’ll　go；”　said　Eustacia　in　an　unusually　quick　tone　for　her；　and　she　glanced　eagerly　towards　the　window　whence　the　moth　had　flown；　but　nothing　appeared　there。
  “You　had　better　not　at　this　time　of　the　evening；”　he　said。　　Clym　stepped　before　her　into　the　passage；　and　Eustacia　waited；　her　somnolent　manner　covering　her　inner　heat　and　agitation。
  She　listened；　and　Clym　opened　the　door。　　No　words　were　uttered　outside；　and　presently　he　closed　it　and　came　back；　saying；　“Nobody　was　there。　　I　wonder　what　that　could　have　meant？”
  He　was　left　to　wonder　during　the　rest　of　the　evening；　for　no　explanation　offered　itself；　and　Eustacia　said　nothing；　the　additional　fact　that　she　knew　of　only　adding　more　mystery　to　the　performance。
  Meanwhile　a　little　drama　had　been　acted　outside　which　saved　Eustacia　from　all　possibility　of　promising　herself　that　evening　at　least。　　Whilst　Wildeve　had　been　preparing　his　moth…signal　another　person　had　e　behind　him　up　to　the　gate。　　This　man；　who　carried　a　gun　in　his　hand；　looked　on　for　a　moment　at　the　other’s　operation　by　the　window；　walked　up　to　the　house；　knocked　at　the　door；　and　then　vanished　round　the　corner　and　over　the　hedge。
  “Damn　him！”　said　Wildeve。　　“He　has　been　watching　me　again。”
  As　his　signal　had　been　rendered　futile　by　this　uproarious　rapping　Wildeve　withdrew；　passed　out　at　the　gate；　and　walked　quickly　down　the　path　without　thinking　of　anything　except　getting　away　unnoticed。　　Halfway　down　the　hill　the　path　ran　near　a　knot　of　stunted　hollies；　which　in　the　general　darkness　of　the　scene　stood　as　the　pupil　in　a　black　eye。　　When　Wildeve　reached　this　point　a　report　startled　his　ear；　and　a　few　spent　gunshots　fell　among　the　leaves　around　him。
  There　was　no　doubt　that　he　himself　was　the　cause　of　that　gun’s　discharge；　and　he　rushed　into　the　clump　of　hollies；　beating　the　bushes　furiously　with　his　stick；　but　nobody　was　there。　　This　attack　was　a　more　serious　matter　than　the　last；　and　it　was　some　time　before　Wildeve　recovered　his　equanimity。　　A　new　and　most　unpleasant　system　of　menace　had　begun；　and　the　intent　appeared　to　be　to　do　him　grievous　bodily　harm。　　Wildeve　had　looked　upon　Venn’s　first　attempt　as　a　species　of　horseplay；　which　the　reddleman　had　indulged　in　for　want　of　knowing　better；　but　now　the　boundary　line　was　passed　which　divides　the　annoying　from　the　perilous。
  Had　Wildeve　known　how　thoroughly　in　earnest　Venn　had　bee　he　might　have　been　still　more　alarmed。　　The　reddleman　had　been　almost　exasperated　by　the　sight　of　Wildeve　outside　Clym’s　house；　and　he　was　prepared　to　go　to　any　lengths　short　of　absolutely　shooting　him；　to　terrify　the　young　innkeeper　out　of　his　recalcitrant　impulses。　　The　doubtful　legitimacy　of　such　rough　coercion　did　not　disturb　the　mind　of　Venn。　　It　troubles　few　such　minds　in　such　cases；　and　sometimes　this　is　not　to　be　regretted。　　From　the　impeachment　of　Strafford　to　Farmer　Lynch’s　short　way　with　the　scamps　of　Virginia　there　have　been　many　triumphs　of　justice　which　are　mockeries　of　law。
  About　half　a　mile　below　Clym’s　secluded　dwelling　lay　a　hamlet　where　lived　one　of　the　two　constables　who　preserved　the　peace　in　the　parish　of　Alderworth；　and　Wildeve　went　straight　to　the　constable’s　cottage。　　Almost　the　first　thing　that　he　saw　on　opening　the　door　was　the　constable’s　truncheon　hanging　to　a　nail；　as　if　to　assure　him　that　here　were　the　means　to　his　purpose。　　On　inquiry；　however；　of　the　constable’s　wife　he　learnt　that　the　constable　was　not　at　home。　　Wildeve　said　he　would　wait。
  The　minutes　ticked　on；　and　the　constable　did　not　arrive。　　Wildeve　cooled　down　from　his　state　of　high　indignation　to　a　restless　dissatisfaction　with　himself；　the　scene；　the　constable’s　wife；　and　the　whole　set　of　circumstances。　　He　arose　and　left　the　house。　　Altogether；　the　experience　of　that　evening　had　had　a　cooling；　not　to　say　a　chilling；　effect　on　misdirected　tenderness；　and　Wildeve　was　in　no　mood　to　ramble　again　to　Alderworth　after　nightfall　in　hope　of　a　stray　glance　from　Eustacia。
  Thus　far　the　reddleman　had　been　tolerably　successful　in　his　rude　contrivances　for　keeping　down　Wildeve’s　inclination　to　rove　in　the　evening。　　He　had　nipped　in　the　bud　the　possible　meeting　between　Eustacia　and　her　old　lover　this　very　night。　　But　he　had　not　anticipated　that　the　tendency　of　his　action　would　be　to　divert　Wildeve’s　movement　rather　than　to　stop　it。　　The　gambling　with　the　guineas　had　not　conduced　to　make　him　a　wele　guest　to　Clym；　but　to　call　upon　his　wife’s　relative　was　natural；　and　he　was　determined　to　see　Eustacia。　　It　was　necessary　to　choose　some　less　untoward　hour　than　ten　o’clock　at　night。　　“Since　it　is　unsafe　to　go　in　the　evening；”　he　said；　“I’ll　go　by　day。”
  Meanwhile　Venn　had　left　the　heath　and　gone　to　call　upon　Mrs。　Yeobright；　with　whom　he　had　been　on　friendly　terms　since　she　had　learnt　what　a　providential　countermove　he　had　made　towards　the　restitution　of　the　family　guineas。　　She　wondered　at　the　lateness　of　his　call；　but　had　no　objection　to　see　him。
  He　gave　her　a　full　account　of　Clym’s　affliction；　and　of　the　state　in　which　he　was　living；　then；　referring　to　Thomasin；　touched　gently　upon　the　apparent　sadness　of　her　days。　　“Now；　ma’am；　depend　upon　it；”　he　said；　“you　couldn’t　do　a　better　thing　for　either　of　‘em　than　to　make　yourself　at　home　in　their　houses；　even　if　there　should　be　a　little　rebuff　at　first。”
  “Both　she　and　my　son　disobeyed　me　in　marrying；　therefore　I　have　no　interest　in　their　households。　　Their　troubles　are　of　their　own　making。”　　Mrs。　Yeobright　tried　to　speak　severely；　but　the　account　of　her　son’s　state　had　moved　her　more　than　she　cared　to　show。
  “Your　visits　would　make　Wildeve　walk　straighter　than　he　is　inclined　to　do；　and　might　prevent　unhappiness　down　the　heath。”
  “What　do　you　mean？”
  “I　saw　something　tonight　out　there　which　I　didn’t　like　at　all。　　I　wish　your　son’s　house　and　Mr。　Wildeve’s　were　a　hundred　miles　apart　instead　of　four　or　five。”
  “Then　there　WAS　an　understanding　between　him　and　Clym’s　wife　when　he　made　a　fool　of　Thomasin！”
  “We’ll　hope　there’s　no　understanding　now。”
  “And　our　hope　will　probably　be　very　vain。　　O　Clym！
  O　Thomasin！”
  “There’s　no　harm　done　yet。　　In　fact；　I’ve　persuaded　Wildeve　to　mind　his　own　business。”
  “How？”
  “O；　not　by　talking—by　a　plan　of　mine　called　the　silent　system。”
  “I　hope　you’ll　succeed。”
  “I　shall　if　you　help　me　by　calling　and　making　friends　with　your　son。　　You’ll　have　a　chance　then　of　using　your　eyes。”
  “Well；　since　it　has　e　to　this；”　said　Mrs。　Yeobright　sadly；　“I　will　own　to　you；　reddleman；　that　I　thought　of　going。　　I　should　be　much　happier　if　we　were　reconciled。　　The　marriage　is　unalterable；　my　life　may　be　cut　short；　and　I　should　wish　to　die　in　peace。　　He　is　my　only　son；　and　since　sons　are　made　of　such　stuff　I　am　not　sorry　I　have　no　other。　　As　for　Thomasin；　I　never　expected　much　from　her；　and　she　has　not　disappointed　me。　　But　I　forgave　her　long　ago；　and　I　forgive　him　now。
  I’ll　go。”
  At　this　very　time　of　the　reddleman’s　conversation　with　Mrs。　Yeobright　at　Blooms…End　another　conversation　on　the　same　subject　was　languidly　proceeding　at　Alderworth。
  All　the　day　Clym　had　borne　himself　as　if　his　mind　were　too　full　of　its　own　matter　to　allow　him　to　care　about　outward　things；　and　his　words　now　showed　what　had　occupied　his　thoughts。　　It　was　just　after　the　mysterious　knocking　that　he　began　the　theme。　　“Since　I　have　been　away　today；　Eustacia；　I　have　considered　that　something　must　be　done　to　heal　up　this　ghastly　breach　between　my　dear　mother　and　myself。　　It　troubles　me。”
  “What　do　you　propose　to　do？”　said　Eustacia　abstractedly；　for　she　could　not　clear　away　from　her　the　excitement　caused　by　Wildeve’s　recent　manoeuvre　for　an　interview。
  “You　seem　to　take　a　very　mild　interest　in　what　I　propose；　little　or　much；”　said　Clym；　with　tolerable　warmth。
  “You　mistake　me；”　she　answered；　reviving　at　his　reproach。
  “I　am　only　thinking。”
  “What　of？”
  “Partly　of　that　moth　whose　skeleton　is　getting　burnt　up　in　the　wick　of　the　candle；”　s