They were in Glatting Wood again, sitting side by side in the green bower they had made their own. This was now their regular resort; and neither of them saw any reason for changing it. Charity had told Seth next to nothing of her father’s outburst against her, being by nature secretive, and with him deliberately so. Since that night of storm a brooding silence had settled upon Noke’s Farm. There was a queerness in the air, and a problem. But Charity gave no thought to it, having more immediate problems to engage her attention. She was resolved not to lose her rich prize: whether by deception, or by open revolt against a tyranny too long endured, she must keep Seth for herself and see him as often as might be. In the event, she had encountered fewer obstacles than there had been reason to expect. But for the lamentable episode of Hugh Marden, the way had been made easy for her. Noke made no allusion to the affair of Midsummer Day, though it was clear that she was unforgiven. He avoided looking at her; and never spoke to her except to command, and that but rarely. Charity, partly as a matter of policy, but more from industrious habit, was as zealous and thorough in her work as she was casual and impudent in her absences. Jenny by her silent acquiescence encouraged the new freedom: it may be that she liked the house better when Charity was not there to share it with her. And Noke, nursing an obscure grievance, bided his time.
Noke bided his time and laid his plans; and madness crouched in him, ready to spring. This evening he was in the smaller of his two hayfields, loading and hauling. The bulk of his hay had been harvested a fortnight since, but, bad weather intervening, and other affairs pressing for attention, this field had been left over. Three of his sons were with him, but the youngest was elsewhere, and the eldest, for the third night in succession, was climbing the slope that led up to Glatting Wood. Noke, in the valley, gave as yet no upward glance: nor, had he looked, could he have easily discerned the figure of his emissary moving in the shadow of the hedge. All four men seemed lost in their work: the father on the wagon, loading; the sons leading the horse round the field, from heap to heap, and with their pitchforks plying him like hodmen with great faggots of hay.
‘Dauntee
‘What boots wanten?’ parried the girl. ‘If us can’t, us can’t.’
‘But why can’t us? I be getten good money, good enough. And there be the old gamekeeper’s cottage waiten and ready. It’s bin empty ever sen a took and died.’ He put his arm coaxingly round her shoulders. ‘I knaw Squire ud let me have un, did I but tell him I want to be married. He be countable good to me, be Squire.’
‘Not after what you done to Master Hugh, he won’t.’ At this wanton renewal of an old and bitter dispute he became angry, and she eager to mollify him. ‘Nemmind, Seth. Marry or not, tis all one to us, bainta? I do love ee eversmuch.’
As always, he found her coaxing irresistible. She was adept in this art of hurting and healing, and so by amorous provocation escaping from an argument. Now, with Seth’s arms about her, and Seth’s kiss on her mouth, she forgave, and he forgot, his tedious talk of marriage, and both became lost in a region beyond time. There they remained for a long while at peace, and Noke, glancing up from the valley, saw the figure of his spy emerging from the wood. He grunted, and shaded his eyes that he might watch the more closely. The fellow was hurrying, but what else? Ah, now he stopped, and thrust a hand into his pocket. The next moment he was waving a red scarf. A sharp exclamation escaped Noke, half anger, half exultation. He called his sons. ‘Come along then, and sharply.’ The wagon was half-loaded: it was inconceivable that work must stop: the men looked at their father with blank faces. ‘Leave that, tellee.’ What of the hay? ‘Leave that.’ What of Dinah the mare? ‘Leave Dinah, blast ye! Come wud me.’ He was already striding away in the direction of the red sign. The three sons trailed at his heels, and their young brother, looking over the stable-wall and seeing them go, snatched up a sharp-bladed shovel and raced out of the yard.