On inquiry of these precious innocents, to whom even the name of their predecessors was a failing memory, Clare learned that John Durbeyfield was dead; that his widow and children had left Marlott, declaring that they were going to live at Kingsbere, but instead of doing so had gone on to another place they mentioned.By this time Clare abhorred the house for ceasing to contain Tess, and hastened away from its hated presence without once looking back.
His way was by the field in which he had first beheld her at the dance.
It was as bad as the house - even worse.He passed on through the churchyard, where, amongst the new headstones, he saw one of a somewhat superior design to the rest.The inscription ran thus: In memory of John Durbeyfield, rightly d'Urberville, of the once powerful family of that Name, and Direct Descendant through an Illustrious Line from Sir Pagan d'Urberville, one of the Knights of the Conqueror.
Died March 10th, 18
HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN.Some man, apparently the sexton, had observed Clare standing there, and drew nigh.`Ah, sir, now that's a man who didn't want to lie here, but wished to be carried to Kingsbere, where his ancestors be.'
`And why didn't they respect his wish?'
`Oh - no money.Bless your soul, sir, why - there, I wouldn't wish to say it everywhere, but - even this headstone, for all the flourish wrote upon en, is not paid for.'
`Ah, who put it up?'
The man told the name of a mason in the village, and, on leaving the churchyard, Clare called at the mason's house.He found that the statement was true, and paid the bill.This done he turned in the direction of the migrants.
The distance was too long for a walk, but Clare felt such a strong desire for isolation that at first he would neither hire a conveyance nor go to a circuitous line of railway by which he might eventually reach the place.
At Shaston, however, he found he must hire; but the way was such that he did not enter Joan's till about seven o'clock in the evening, leaving traversed a place distance of over twenty miles since leaving Marlott.
The village being small he had little difficulty in finding Mrs Durbeyfield's tenement, which was a house in a walled garden, remote from the main road, where she had stowed away her clumsy old furniture as best she could.It was plain that for some reason or other she had not wished him to visit her, and he felt his call to be somewhat of an intrusion.She came to the door herself, and the light from the evening sky fell upon her face.
This was the first time that Clare had ever met her, but he was too preoccupied to observe more than that she was still a handsome woman, in the garb of a respectable widow.He was obliged to explain that he was Tess's husband, and his object in coming there, and he did it awkwardly enough.`I want to see her at once,' he added.`You said you would write to me again, but you have not done so.'
`Because she've not come home,' said Joan.
`Do you know if she is well?'
`I don't.But you ought to, sir,' said she.
`I admit it.Where is she staying?'
From the beginning of the interview Joan had disclosed her embarrassment by keeping her hand to the side of her cheek.
`I don't know exactly where she is staying,' she answered.' She was - but--'
`Where was she?'
`Well, she is not there now.'
In her evasiveness she paused again, and the younger children had by this time crept to the door, where, pulling at his mother's skirts, the youngest murmured--`Is this the gentleman who is going to marry Tess?'
`He has married her,' Joan whispered.`Go inside.'
Clare saw her efforts for reticence, and asked `Do you think Tess would wish me to try and find her? If not, of course------'
`I don't think she would.'
`Are you sure?'
`I am sure she wouldn't.'
He was turning away; and then he thought of Tess's tender letter.
`I am sure she would!' he retorted passionately.`I know her better than you do.'
`That's very likely, sir; for I have never really known her.'
`Please tell me her address, Mrs Durbeyfield, in kindness to a lonely wretched man!'
Tess's mother again restlessly swept her cheek with her vertical hand, and seeing that he suffered, she at last said, in a low voice `She is at Sandbourne.'
`Ah - where there? Sandbourne has become a large place, they say.
`I don't know more particularly than I have said - Sandbourne.For myself, I was never there.'
It was apparent that Joan spoke the truth in this, and he pressed her no further.
`Are you in want of anything?' he said gently.
`No, sir,' she replied.`We are fairly well provided for.'
Without entering the house Clare turned away.There was a station three miles ahead, and paying off his coachman, he walked thither.The last train to Sandbourne left shortly after, and it bore Clare on its wheels.
Chapter 55 At eleven o'clock that night, having secured a bed at one of the hotels and telegraphed his address to his father immediately on his arrival, he walked out into the streets of Sandbourne.It was too late to call on or inquire for any one, and he reluctantly postponed his purpose till the morning.But he could not retire to rest just yet.
This fashionable watering-place, with its eastern and its western stations, its piers, its groves of pines, its promenades, and its covered gardens, was, to Angel Clare, like a fairy place suddenly created by the stroke of a wand, and allowed to get a little dusty.An outlying eastern tract of the enormous Egdon Waste was close at hand, yet on the very verge of that tawny piece of antiquity such a glittering novelty as this pleasure city had chosen to spring up.Within the space of a mile from its outskirts every irregularity of the soil was prehistoric, every channel an undisturbed British trackway; not a sod having been turned there since the days of the Czars.Yet the exotic had grown here, suddenly as the prophet's gourd;and had drawn hither Tess.
