“What is it?” he continued when they stood within.
“I have lost my way coming from Blooms-End, and I am in a great hurry to get home. Please show me as quickly as you can! It is so silly of me not to know Egdon better, and I cannot think how I came to lose the path. Show me quickly, Diggory, please.”
“Yes, of course. I will go with ’ee. But you came to me before this, Mrs. Wildeve?”
“I only came this minute.”
“That’s strange. I was lying down here asleep about five minutes ago, with the door shut to keep out the weather, when the brushing of a woman’s clothes over the heath-bushes just outside woke me up, for I don’t sleep heavy, and at the same time I heard a sobbing or crying from the same woman. I opened my door and held out my lantern, and just as far as the light would reach I saw a woman; she turned her head when the light sheened on her, and then hurried on downhill. I hung up the lantern, and was curious enough to pull on my things and dog her a few steps, but I could see nothing of her any more. That was where I had been when you came up; and when I saw you I thought you were the same one.”
“Perhaps it was one of the heathfolk going home?”
“No, it couldn’t be. ’Tis too late. The noise of her gown over the he’th was of a whistling sort that nothing but silk will make.”
“It wasn’t I, then. My dress is not silk, you see.... Are we anywhere in a line between Mistover and the inn?”
“Well, yes; not far out.”
“Ah, I wonder if it was she! Diggory, I must go at once!”
She jumped down from the van before he was aware, when Venn unhooked the lantern and leaped down after her. “I’ll take the baby, ma’am,” he said. “You must be tired out by the weight.”
Thomasin hesitated a moment, and then delivered the baby into Venn’s hands. “Don’t squeeze her, Diggory,” she said, “or hurt her little arm; and keep the cloak close over her like this, so that the rain may not drop in her face.”
“I will,” said Venn earnestly. “As if I could hurt anything belonging to you!”
“I only meant accidentally,” said Thomasin.
“The baby is dry enough, but you are pretty wet,” said the reddleman when, in closing the door of his cart to padlock it, he noticed on the floor a ring of water drops where her cloak had hung from her.
Thomasin followed him as he wound right and left to avoid the larger bushes, stopping occasionally and covering the lantern, while he looked over his shoulder to gain some idea of the position of Rainbarrow above them, which it was necessary to keep directly behind their backs to preserve a proper course.
“You are sure the rain does not fall upon baby?”
“Quite sure. May I ask how old he is, ma’am?”
“He!” said Thomasin reproachfully. “Anybody can see better than that in a moment. She is nearly two months old. How far is it now to the inn?”
“A little over a quarter of a mile.”
“Will you walk a little faster?”
“I was afraid you could not keep up.”
“I am very anxious to get there. Ah, there is a light from the window!”
“’Tis not from the window. That’s a gig-lamp, to the best of my belief.”
“O!” said Thomasin in despair. “I wish I had been there sooner—give me the baby, Diggory—you can go back now.”
“I must go all the way,” said Venn. “There is a quag between us and that light, and you will walk into it up to your neck unless I take you round.”
“But the light is at the inn, and there is no quag in front of that.”
“No, the light is below the inn some two or three hundred yards.”
The Return of the Native · The Wunder Library — complete classics, free to read, with narration.