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The
captain
concluded
that
Eustacia
,
feeling
wakeful
,
had
gone
for
a
book
,
and
would
have
dismissed
the
matter
as
unimportant
if
he
had
not
also
heard
her
distinctly
weeping
as
she
passed
.
“
She
is
thinking
of
that
husband
of
hers
,
”
he
said
to
himself
.
“
Ah
,
the
silly
goose
!
she
had
no
business
to
marry
him
.
I
wonder
if
that
letter
is
really
his
?
”
He
arose
,
threw
his
boat
-
cloak
round
him
,
opened
the
door
,
and
said
,
“
Eustacia
!
”
There
was
no
answer
.
“
Eustacia
!
”
he
repeated
louder
,
“
there
is
a
letter
on
the
mantelpiece
for
you
.
”
But
no
response
was
made
to
this
statement
save
an
imaginary
one
from
the
wind
,
which
seemed
to
gnaw
at
the
corners
of
the
house
,
and
the
stroke
of
a
few
drops
of
rain
upon
the
windows
.
He
went
on
to
the
landing
,
and
stood
waiting
nearly
five
minutes
.
Still
she
did
not
return
.
He
went
back
for
a
light
,
and
prepared
to
follow
her
;
but
first
he
looked
into
her
bedroom
.
There
,
on
the
outside
of
the
quilt
,
was
the
impression
of
her
form
,
showing
that
the
bed
had
not
been
opened
;
and
,
what
was
more
significant
,
she
had
not
taken
her
candlestick
downstairs
.
He
was
now
thoroughly
alarmed
;
and
hastily
putting
on
his
clothes
he
descended
to
the
front
door
,
which
he
himself
had
bolted
and
locked
.
It
was
now
unfastened
.
There
was
no
longer
any
doubt
that
Eustacia
had
left
the
house
at
this
midnight
hour
;
and
whither
could
she
have
gone
?
To
follow
her
was
almost
impossible
.
Had
the
dwelling
stood
in
an
ordinary
road
,
two
persons
setting
out
,
one
in
each
direction
,
might
have
made
sure
of
overtaking
her
;
but
it
was
a
hopeless
task
to
seek
for
anybody
on
a
heath
in
the
dark
,
the
practicable
directions
for
flight
across
it
from
any
point
being
as
numerous
as
the
meridians
radiating
from
the
pole
.
Perplexed
what
to
do
,
he
looked
into
the
parlour
,
and
was
vexed
to
find
that
the
letter
still
lay
there
untouched
.
At
half
-
past
eleven
,
finding
that
the
house
was
silent
,
Eustacia
had
lighted
her
candle
,
put
on
some
warm
outer
wrappings
,
taken
her
bag
in
her
hand
,
and
,
extinguishing
the
light
again
,
descended
the
staircase
.
When
she
got
into
the
outer
air
she
found
that
it
had
begun
to
rain
,
and
as
she
stood
pausing
at
the
door
it
increased
,
threatening
to
come
on
heavily
.
But
having
committed
herself
to
this
line
of
action
there
was
no
retreating
for
bad
weather
.
Even
the
receipt
of
Clym
’
s
letter
would
not
have
stopped
her
now
.
The
gloom
of
the
night
was
funereal
;
all
nature
seemed
clothed
in
crape
.
The
spiky
points
of
the
fir
trees
behind
the
house
rose
into
the
sky
like
the
turrets
and
pinnacles
of
an
abbey
.
Nothing
below
the
horizon
was
visible
save
a
light
which
was
still
burning
in
the
cottage
of
Susan
Nunsuch
.
Eustacia
opened
her
umbrella
and
went
out
from
the
enclosure
by
the
steps
over
the
bank
,
after
which
she
was
beyond
all
danger
of
being
perceived
.
Skirting
the
pool
,
she
followed
the
path
towards
Rainbarrow
,
occasionally
stumbling
over
twisted
furze
roots
,
tufts
of
rushes
,
or
oozing
lumps
of
fleshy
fungi
,
which
at
this
season
lay
scattered
about
the
heath
like
the
rotten
liver
and
lungs
of
some
colossal
animal
.
The
moon
and
stars
were
closed
up
by
cloud
and
rain
to
the
degree
of
extinction
.
It
was
a
night
which
led
the
traveller
’
s
thoughts
instinctively
to
dwell
on
nocturnal
scenes
of
disaster
in
the
chronicles
of
the
world
,
on
all
that
is
terrible
and
dark
in
history
and
legend
—
the
last
plague
of
Egypt
,
the
destruction
of
Sennacherib
’
s
host
,
the
agony
in
Gethsemane
.
Eustacia
at
length
reached
Rainbarrow
,
and
stood
still
there
to
think
.
Never
was
harmony
more
perfect
than
that
between
the
chaos
of
her
mind
and
the
chaos
of
the
world
without
.
