ung　back　the　shutters　he　set　about　his　task　of　overhauling　the　cupboards　and　closets；　burning　papers；　and　considering　how　best　to　arrange　the　place　for　Eustacia’s　reception；　until　such　time　as　he　might　be　in　a　position　to　carry　out　his　long…delayed　scheme；　should　that　time　ever　arrive。
  As　he　surveyed　the　rooms　he　felt　strongly　disinclined　for　the　alterations　which　would　have　to　be　made　in　the　time…honoured　furnishing　of　his　parents　and　grandparents；　to　suit　Eustacia’s　modern　ideas。　　The　gaunt　oak…cased　clock；　with　the　picture　of　the　Ascension　on　the　door　panel　and　the　Miraculous　Draught　of　Fishes　on　the　base；　his　grandmother’s　corner　cupboard　with　the　glass　door；　through　which　the　spotted　china　was　visible；　the　dumb…waiter；　the　wooden　tea　trays；　the　hanging　fountain　with　the　brass　tap—whither　would　these　venerable　articles　have　to　be　banished？
  He　noticed　that　the　flowers　in　the　window　had　died　for　want　of　water；　and　he　placed　them　out　upon　the　ledge；　that　they　might　be　taken　away。　　While　thus　engaged　he　heard　footsteps　on　the　gravel　without；　and　somebody　knocked　at　the　door。
  Yeobright　opened　it；　and　Venn　was　standing　before　him。
  “Good　morning；”　said　the　reddleman。　　“Is　Mrs。　Yeobright　at　home？”
  Yeobright　looked　upon　the　ground。　　“Then　you　have　not　seen　Christian　or　any　of　the　Egdon　folks？”　he　said。
  “No。　I　have　only　just　returned　after　a　long　stay　away。
  I　called　here　the　day　before　I　left。”
  “And　you　have　heard　nothing？”
  “Nothing。”
  “My　mother　is—dead。”
  “Dead！”　said　Venn　mechanically。
  “Her　home　now　is　where　I　shouldn’t　mind　having　mine。”
  Venn　regarded　him；　and　then　said；　“If　I　didn’t　see　your　face　I　could　never　believe　your　words。　　Have　you　been　ill？”
  “I　had　an　illness。”
  “Well；　the　change！　When　I　parted　from　her　a　month　ago　everything　seemed　to　say　that　she　was　going　to　begin　a　new　life。”
  “And　what　seemed　came　true。”
  “You　say　right；　no　doubt。　　Trouble　has　taught　you　a　deeper　vein　of　talk　than　mine。　　All　I　meant　was　regarding　her　life　here。　　She　has　died　too　soon。”
  “Perhaps　through　my　living　too　long。　　I　have　had　a　bitter　experience　on　that　score　this　last　month；　Diggory。　　But　e　in；　I　have　been　wanting　to　see　you。”
  He　conducted　the　reddleman　into　the　large　room　where　the　dancing　had　taken　place　the　previous　Christmas；　and　they　sat　down　in　the　settle　together。　　“There’s　the　cold　fireplace；　you　see；”　said　Clym。　　“When　that　half…burnt　log　and　those　cinders　were　alight　she　was　alive！　　Little　has　been　changed　here　yet。　　I　can　do　nothing。
  My　life　creeps　like　a　snail。”
  “How　came　she　to　die？”　said　Venn。
  Yeobright　gave　him　some　particulars　of　her　illness　and　death；　and　continued：　“After　this　no　kind　of　pain　will　ever　seem　more　than　an　indisposition　to　me。　　I　began　saying　that　I　wanted　to　ask　you　something；　but　I　stray　from　subjects　like　a　drunken　man。　　I　am　anxious　to　know　what　my　mother　said　to　you　when　she　last　saw　you。　　You　talked　with　her　a　long　time；　I　think？”
  “I　talked　with　her　more　than　half　an　hour。”
  “About　me？”
  “Yes。　And　it　must　have　been　on　account　of　what　we　said　that　she　was　on　the　heath。　　Without　question　she　was　ing　to　see　you。”
  “But　why　should　she　e　to　see　me　if　she　felt　so　bitterly　against　me？　　There’s　the　mystery。”
  “Yet　I　know　she　quite　forgave　‘ee。”
  “But；　Diggory—would　a　woman；　who　had　quite　forgiven　her　son；　say；　when　she　felt　herself　ill　on　the　way　to　his　house；　that　she　was　broken…hearted　because　of　his　ill…usage？　　Never！”
  “What　I　know　is　that　she　didn’t　blame　you　at　all。
  She　blamed　herself　for　what　had　happened；　and　only　herself。
  I　had　it　from　her　own　lips。”
  “You　had　it　from　her　lips　that　I　had　NOT　ill…treated　her；　and　at　the　same　time　another　had　it　from　her　lips　that　I　HAD　ill…treated　her？　　My　mother　was　no　impulsive　woman　who　changed　her　opinion　every　hour　without　reason。　　How　can　it　be；　Venn；　that　she　should　have　told　such　different　stories　in　close　succession？”
  “I　cannot　say。　　It　is　certainly　odd；　when　she　had　forgiven　you；　and　had　forgiven　your　wife；　and　was　going　to　see　ye　on　purpose　to　make　friends。”
  “If　there　was　one　thing　wanting　to　bewilder　me　it　was　this　inprehensible　thing！。。。Diggory；　if　we；　who　remain　alive；　were　only　allowed　to　hold　conversation　with　the　dead—just　once；　a　bare　minute；　even　through　a　screen　of　iron　bars；　as　with　persons　in　prison—what　we　might　learn！　How　many　who　now　ride　smiling　would　hide　their　heads！　And　this　mystery—I　should　then　be　at　the　bottom　of　it　at　once。　　But　the　grave　has　forever　shut　her　in；　and　how　shall　it　be　found　out　now？”
  No　reply　was　returned　by　his　panion；　since　none　could　be　given；　and　when　Venn　left；　a　few　minutes　later；　Clym　had　passed　from　the　dullness　of　sorrow　to　the　fluctuation　of　carking　incertitude。
  He　continued　in　the　same　state　all　the　afternoon。　　A　bed　was　made　up　for　him　in　the　same　house　by　a　neighbour；　that　he　might　not　have　to　return　again　the　next　day；　and　when　he　retired　to　rest　in　the　deserted　place　it　was　only　to　remain　awake　hour　after　hour　thinking　the　same　thoughts。　　How　to　discover　a　solution　to　this　riddle　of　death　seemed　a　query　of　more　importance　than　highest　problems　of　the　living。　　There　was　housed　in　his　memory　a　vivid　picture　of　the　face　of　a　little　boy　as　he　entered　the　hovel　where　Clym’s　mother　lay。　　The　round　eyes；　eager　gaze；　the　piping　voice　which　enunciated　the　words；　had　operated　like　stilettos　on　his　brain。
  A　visit　to　the　boy　suggested　itself　as　a　means　of　gleaning　new　particulars；　though　it　might　be　quite　unproductive。　　To　probe　a　child’s　mind　after　the　lapse　of　six　weeks；　not　for　facts　which　the　child　had　seen　and　understood；　but　to　get　at　those　which　were　in　their　nature　beyond　him；　did　not　promise　much；　yet　when　every　obvious　channel　is　blocked　we　grope　towards　the　small　and　obscure。　　There　was　nothing　else　left　to　do；　after　that　he　would　allow　the　enigma　to　drop　into　the　abyss　of　undiscoverable　things。
  It　was　about　daybreak　when　he　had　reached　this　decision；　and　he　at　once　arose。　　He　locked　up　the　house　and　went　out　into　the　green　patch　which　merged　in　heather　further　on。　　In　front　of　the　white　garden…palings　the　path　branched　into　three　like　a　broad　arrow。　　The　road　to　the　right　led　to　the　Quiet　Woman　and　its　neighbourhood；　the　middle　track　led　to　Mistover　Knap；　the　left…hand　track　led　over　the　hill　to　another　part　of　Mistover；　where　the　child　lived。　　On　inclining　into　the　latter　path　Yeobright　felt　a　creeping　chilliness；　familiar　enough　to　most　people；　and　probably　caused　by　the　unsunned　morning　air。　　In　after　days　he　thought　of　it　as　a　thing　of　singular　significance。
  When　Yeobright　reached　the　cottage　of　Susan　Nunsuch；　the　mother　of　the　boy　he　sought；　he　found　that　the　inmates　were　not　yet　astir。　　But　in　upland　hamlets　the　transition　from　a…bed　to　abroad　is　surprisingly　swift　and　easy。　　There　no　dense　partition　of　yawns　and　toilets　divides　humanity　by　night　from　humanity　by　day。　　Yeobright　tapped　at　the　upper　windowsill；　which　he　could　reach　with　his　walking　stick；　and　in　three　or　four　minutes　the　woman　came　down。
  It　was　not　till　this　moment　that　Clym　recollected　her　to　be　the　person　who　had　behaved　so　barbarously　to　Eustacia。　　It　partly　explained　the　insuavity　with　which　the　woman　greeted　him。　　Moreover；　the　boy　had　been　ailing　again；　and　Susan　now；　as　ever　since　the　night　when　he　had　been　pressed　into　Eustacia’s　service　at　the　bonfire；　attributed　his　indispositions　to　Eustacia’s　influence　as　a　witch。　　It　was　one　of　those　sentiments　which　lurk　like　moles　underneath　the　visible　surface　of　manners；　and　may　have　been　kept　alive　by　Eustacia’s　entreaty　to　the　captain；　at　the　time　that　he　had　intended　to　prosecute　Susan　for　the　pricking　in　church；　to　let　the　matter　drop；　which　he　accordingly　had　done。
  Yeobright　overcame　his　repugnance；　for　Susan　had　at　least　borne　his　mother　no　ill…will。　He　asked　kindly　for　the　boy；　but　her　manner　did　not　improve。
  “I　wish　to　see　him；”　continued　Yeobright；　with　some　hesitation；　“to　ask　him　if　he　remembers　anything　more　of　his　walk　with　my　mother　than　what　he　has　previously　told。”
  She　regarded　him　in　a　peculiar　and　criticizing　manner。　　To　anybody　but　a　half…blind　man　it　would　have　said；　“You　want　another　of　the　knocks　which　have　already　laid　you　so　low。”
  She　called　the　boy　downstairs；　asked　Clym　to　sit　down　on　a　stool；　and　continued；　“Now；　Johnny；　tell　Mr。　Yeobright　anything　you　can　call　to　mind。”
  “You　have　not　forgotten　how　you　walked　with　the　poor　lady　on　that　hot　day？”　said　Clym。
  “No；”　said　the　boy。
  “And　what　she　said　to　you？”
  The　boy　repeated　the　exact　words　he　had　used　on　entering　the　hut。　　Yeobright　rested　his　elbow　on　the　table　and　shaded　his　face　with　his　hand；　and　the　mother　looked　as　if　she　wondered　how　a　man　could　want　more　of　what　had　stung　him　so　deeply。
  “She　was　going　to　Alderworth　when　you　first　met　her？”
  “No；　she　was　ing　away。”
  “That　can’t　be。”
  “Yes；　she　walked　along　with　me。　　I　was　ing　away；　too。”
  “Then　where　did　you　first　see　her？”
  “At　your　house。”
  “Attend；　and　speak　the　truth！”　said　Clym　sternly。
  “Yes；　sir；　at　your　house　was　where　I　seed　her　first。”
  Clym　started　up；　and　Susan　smiled　in　an　expectant　way　which　did　not　embellish　her　face；　it　seemed　to　mean；　“Something　sinister　is　ing！”
  “What　did　she　do　at