untimely　day　she　would　overhaul　the　cupboards　containing　her　grandfather’s　old　charts　and　other　rubbish；　humming　Saturday…night　ballads　of　the　country　people　the　while。　　But　on　Saturday　nights　she　would　frequently　sing　a　psalm；　and　it　was　always　on　a　weekday　that　she　read　the　Bible；　that　she　might　be　unoppressed　with　a　sense　of　doing　her　duty。
  Such　views　of　life　were　to　some　extent　the　natural　begettings　of　her　situation　upon　her　nature。　　To　dwell　on　a　heath　without　studying　its　meanings　was　like　wedding　a　foreigner　without　learning　his　tongue。　　The　subtle　beauties　of　the　heath　were　lost　to　Eustacia；　she　only　caught　its　vapours。　　An　environment　which　would　have　made　a　contented　woman　a　poet；　a　suffering　woman　a　devotee；　a　pious　woman　a　psalmist；　even　a　giddy　woman　thoughtful；　made　a　rebellious　woman　saturnine。
  Eustacia　had　got　beyond　the　vision　of　some　marriage　of　inexpressible　glory；　yet；　though　her　emotions　were　in　full　vigour；　she　cared　for　no　meaner　union。　　Thus　we　see　her　in　a　strange　state　of　isolation。　　To　have　lost　the　godlike　conceit　that　we　may　do　what　we　will；　and　not　to　have　acquired　a　homely　zest　for　doing　what　we　can；　shows　a　grandeur　of　temper　which　cannot　be　objected　to　in　the　abstract；　for　it　denotes　a　mind　that；　though　disappointed；　forswears　promise。　　But；　if　congenial　to　philosophy；　it　is　apt　to　be　dangerous　to　the　monwealth。　　In　a　world　where　doing　means　marrying；　and　the　monwealth　is　one　of　hearts　and　hands；　the　same　peril　attends　the　condition。
  And　so　we　see　our　Eustacia—for　at　times　she　was　not　altogether　unlovable—arriving　at　that　stage　of　enlightenment　which　feels　that　nothing　is　worth　while；　and　filling　up　the　spare　hours　of　her　existence　by　idealizing　Wildeve　for　want　of　a　better　object。　　This　was　the　sole　reason　of　his　ascendency：　she　knew　it　herself。　　At　moments　her　pride　rebelled　against　her　passion　for　him；　and　she　even　had　longed　to　be　free。　　But　there　was　only　one　circumstance　which　could　dislodge　him；　and　that　was　the　advent　of　a　greater　man。
  For　the　rest；　she　suffered　much　from　depression　of　spirits；　and　took　slow　walks　to　recover　them；　in　which　she　carried　her　grandfather’s　telescope　and　her　grandmother’s　hourglass—the　latter　because　of　a　peculiar　pleasure　she　derived　from　watching　a　material　representation　of　time’s　gradual　glide　away。　　She　seldom　schemed；　but　when　she　did　scheme；　her　plans　showed　rather　the　prehensive　strategy　of　a　general　than　the　small　arts　called　womanish；　though　she　could　utter　oracles　of　Delphian　ambiguity　when　she　did　not　choose　to　be　direct。　　In　heaven　she　will　probably　sit　between　the　Heloises　and　the　Cleopatras。
  8　… Those　Who　Are　Found　Where　There　Is　Said　to　Be　Nobody
  As　soon　as　the　sad　little　boy　had　withdrawn　from　the　fire　he　clasped　the　money　tight　in　the　palm　of　his　hand；　as　if　thereby　to　fortify　his　courage；　and　began　to　run。　　There　was　really　little　danger　in　allowing　a　child　to　go　home　alone　on　this　part　of　Egdon　Heath。　　The　distance　to　the　boy’s　house　was　not　more　than　three…eighths　of　a　mile；　his　father’s　cottage；　and　one　other　a　few　yards　further　on；　forming　part　of　the　small　hamlet　of　Mistover　Knap：　the　third　and　only　remaining　house　was　that　of　Captain　Vye　and　Eustacia；　which　stood　quite　away　from　the　small　cottages。　　and　was　the　loneliest　of　lonely　houses　on　these　thinly　populated　slopes。
  He　ran　until　he　was　out　of　breath；　and　then；　being　more　courageous；　walked　leisurely　along；　singing　in　an　old　voice　a　little　song　about　a　sailor…boy　and　a　fair　one；　and　bright　gold　in　store。　　In　the　middle　of　this　the　child　stopped—from　a　pit　under　the　hill　ahead　of　him　shone　a　light；　whence　proceeded　a　cloud　of　floating　dust　and　a　smacking　noise。
  Only　unusual　sights　and　sounds　frightened　the　boy。　　The　shrivelled　voice　of　the　heath　did　not　alarm　him；　for　that　was　familiar。　　The　thornbushes　which　arose　in　his　path　from　time　to　time　were　less　satisfactory；　for　they　whistled　gloomily；　and　had　a　ghastly　habit　after　dark　of　putting　on　the　shapes　of　jumping　madmen；　sprawling　giants；　and　hideous　cripples。　　Lights　were　not　unmon　this　evening；　but　the　nature　of　all　of　them　was　different　from　this。　　Discretion　rather　than　terror　prompted　the　boy　to　turn　back　instead　of　passing　the　light；　with　a　view　of　asking　Miss　Eustacia　Vye　to　let　her　servant　acpany　him　home。
  When　the　boy　had　reascended　to　the　top　of　the　valley　he　found　the　fire　to　be　still　burning　on　the　bank；　though　lower　than　before。　　Beside　it；　instead　of　Eustacia’s　solitary　form；　he　saw　two　persons；　the　second　being　a　man。　　The　boy　crept　along　under　the　bank　to　ascertain　from　the　nature　of　the　proceedings　if　it　would　be　prudent　to　interrupt　so　splendid　a　creature　as　Miss　Eustacia　on　his　poor　trivial　account。
  After　listening　under　the　bank　for　some　minutes　to　the　talk　he　turned　in　a　perplexed　and　doubting　manner　and　began　to　withdraw　as　silently　as　he　had　e。　　That　he　did　not；　upon　the　whole；　think　it　advisable　to　interrupt　her　conversation　with　Wildeve；　without　being　prepared　to　bear　the　whole　weight　of　her　displeasure；　was　obvious。
  Here　was　a　Scyllaeo…Charybdean　position　for　a　poor　boy。　　Pausing　when　again　safe　from　discovery；　he　finally　decided　to　face　the　pit　phenomenon　as　the　lesser　evil。　　With　a　heavy　sigh　he　retraced　the　slope；　and　followed　the　path　he　had　followed　before。
  The　light　had　gone；　the　rising　dust　had　disappeared—he　hoped　for　ever。　　He　marched　resolutely　along；　and　found　nothing　to　alarm　him　till；　ing　within　a　few　yards　of　the　sandpit；　he　heard　a　slight　noise　in　front；　which　led　him　to　halt。　　The　halt　was　but　momentary；　for　the　noise　resolved　itself　into　the　steady　bites　of　two　animals　grazing。
  “Two　he’th…croppers　down　here；”　he　said　aloud。
  “I　have　never　known　‘em　e　down　so　far　afore。”
  The　animals　were　in　the　direct　line　of　his　path；　but　that　the　child　thought　little　of；　he　had　played　round　the　fetlocks　of　horses　from　his　infancy。　　On　ing　nearer；　however；　the　boy　was　somewhat　surprised　to　find　that　the　little　creatures　did　not　run　off；　and　that　each　wore　a　clog；　to　prevent　his　going　astray；　this　signified　that　they　had　been　broken　in。　　He　could　now　see　the　interior　of　the　pit；　which；　being　in　the　side　of　the　hill；　had　a　level　entrance。　　In　the　innermost　corner　the　square　outline　of　a　van　appeared；　with　its　back　towards　him。　　A　light　came　from　the　interior；　and　threw　a　moving　shadow　upon　the　vertical　face　of　gravel　at　the　further　side　of　the　pit　into　which　the　vehicle　faced。
  The　child　assumed　that　this　was　the　cart　of　a　gipsy；　and　his　dread　of　those　wanderers　reached　but　to　that　mild　pitch　which　titillates　rather　than　pains。　　Only　a　few　inches　of　mud　wall　kept　him　and　his　family　from　being　gipsies　themselves。　　He　skirted　the　gravel　pit　at　a　respectful　distance；　ascended　the　slope；　and　came　forward　upon　the　brow；　in　order　to　look　into　the　open　door　of　the　van　and　see　the　original　of　the　shadow。
  The　picture　alarmed　the　boy。　　By　a　little　stove　inside　the　van　sat　a　figure　red　from　head　to　heels—the　man　who　had　been　Thomasin’s　friend。　　He　was　darning　a　stocking；　which　was　red　like　the　rest　of　him。　　Moreover；　as　he　darned　he　smoked　a　pipe；　the　stem　and　bowl　of　which　were　red　also。
  At　this　moment　one　of　the　heath…croppers　feeding　in　the　outer　shadows　was　audibly　shaking　off　the　clog　attached　to　its　foot。　　Aroused　by　the　sound；　the　reddleman　laid　down　his　stocking；　lit　a　lantern　which　hung　beside　him；　and　came　out　from　the　van。　　In　sticking　up　the　candle　he　lifted　the　lantern　to　his　face；　and　the　light　shone　into　the　whites　of　his　eyes　and　upon　his　ivory　teeth；　which；　in　contrast　with　the　red　surrounding；　lent　him　a　startling　aspect　enough　to　the　gaze　of　a　juvenile。　　The　boy　knew　too　well　for　his　peace　of　mind　upon　whose　lair　he　had　lighted。　　Uglier　persons　than　gipsies　were　known　to　cross　Egdon　at　times；　and　a　reddleman　was　one　of　them。
  “How　I　wish　‘twas　only　a　gipsy！”　he　murmured。
  The　man　was　by　this　time　ing　back　from　the　horses。　　In　his　fear　of　being　seen　the　boy　rendered　detection　certain　by　nervous　motion。　　The　heather　and　peat　stratum　overhung　the　brow　of　the　pit　in　mats；　hiding　the　actual　verge。　　The　boy　had　stepped　beyond　the　solid　ground；　the　heather　now　gave　way；　and　down　he　rolled　over　the　scarp　of　grey　sand　to　the　very　foot　of　the　man。
  The　red　man　opened　the　lantern　and　turned　it　upon　the　figure　of　the　prostrate　boy。
  “Who　be　ye？”　he　said。
  “Johnny　Nunsuch；　master！”
  “What　were　you　doing　up　there？”
  “I　don’t　know。”
  “Watching　me；　I　suppose？”
  “Yes；　master。”
  “What　did　you　watch　me　for？”
  “Because　I　was　ing　home　from　Miss　Vye’s　bonfire。”
  “Beest　hurt？”
  “No。”
  “Why；　yes；　you　be—your　hand　is　bleeding。　　e　under　my　tilt　and　let　me　tie　it　up。”
  “Please　let　me　look　for　my　sixpence。”
  “How　did　you　e　by　that？”
  “Miss　Vye　gied　it　to　me　for　keeping　up　her　bonfire。”
  The　sixpence　was　found；　and　the　man　went　to　the　van；　the　boy　behind；　almost　holding　his　breath。
  The　man　took　a　piece　of　rag　from　a　satchel　containing　sewing　materials；　tore　off　a　strip；　which；　like　everything　else；　was　tinged　red；　and　proceeded　to　bind　up　the　wound。
  “My　eyes　have　got　foggy…like—please　may　I　sit　down；　master？”　said　the　boy。
  “To　be　sure；　poor　chap。　　‘Tis　enough　to　make　you　feel　fainty。
  Sit　on　that　bundle。”
  The　man　finished　tying　up