Chapter 10 - Two On A Tower

Thomas Hardy
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CHAPTER X The placid inhabitants of the parish of Welland,
including warbling wagoners, lone shepherds, plough-men, the blacksmith, the carpenter,
the gardener at the great house, the steward and agent, the parson, clerk, and so on, were
hourly expecting the announcement of St. Cleve's death.
The sexton had been going to see his brother-in-law nine miles distant, but promptly postponed
the visit for a few days, that there might be the regular professional hand present to
toll the bell in a note of due fullness and solemnity—an attempt by a deputy, on a previous
occasion of his absence, having degenerated into a miserable stammering clang that was
a disgrace to the parish.
But Swiddon St. Cleve did not decease—a fact of which, indeed, the habituated reader
will have been well aware ever since the rain came down upon the young man in the ninth
chapter, and led to his alarming illness.
Though, for that matter, so many maimed histories are hourly enacting themselves in this dun-coloured
world as to lend almost a priority of interest to narratives concerning those who lay great
bases for eternity, which prove more short than waste or ruining.
How it arose that he did not die was in this wise, and his example affords another instance
of that reflex rule of the vassal soul over the sovereign body, which, operating so wonderfully
in elastic natures, and more or less in all, originally gave rise to the legend that supremacy
lay on the other side.
The evening of the day after the tender, despairing farewell kiss of Lady Constantine, when he
was a little less weak than during her visit, he lay with his face to the window.
He lay alone, quiet and resigned.
He had been thinking sometimes of her and other friends, but chiefly of his lost discovery.
Although nearly unconscious at the time, he had yet been aware of that kiss, as the delicate
flush which followed it upon his cheek would have told, but he had attached little importance
to it as between man and woman.
Had he been dying of love instead of wet weather, perhaps the impulsive act of that handsome
lady would have been seized on as a proof that his love was returned.
As it was, her kiss seemed but the evidence of a naturally demonstrative kindliness felt
towards him chiefly because he was believed to be leaving her for ever.
The reds of sunset passed, and dusk drew on.
Old Hannah came upstairs to pull down the blinds, and as she advanced to the window
he said to her, in a faint voice,
"'Well, Hannah, what news to-day?'
"'Oh, nothing, sir,' Hannah replied, looking out of the window with sad apathy.
"'Only that there's a comet, they say.'
"'A what?' said a dying astronomer, starting up on his elbow.
"'A comet—that's all, Master Swithin,' repeated Hannah, in a lower voice, fearing
she had done harm in some way.
"'Well, tell me, tell me,' cried Swithin.
"'Is it Gambird's?
Is it Charles V's, or Halley's, or Faye's, or Who's?'
"'Hush!' she said, thinking St. Cleve slightly delirious again.
"'Tis God-almighty's, of course.
I haven't seen him myself, but they say he's getting bigger every night, and that he'll
be the biggest one known for fifty years when he's full-grown.
"'There, you must not talk any more now, or I'll go away.'
Here was an amazing event, little noise as it had made in the happening.
Of all phenomena that he had longed to witness during his short astronomical career, those
appertaining to comets had excited him most.
That the magnificent comet of 1811 would not return again for thirty centuries had been
quite a permanent regret with him.
And now, when the bottomless abyss of death seemed yawning beneath his feet, one of these
much-desired apparitions, as large apparently as any of its tribe, had chosen to show itself.
"'Oh, if I could but live to see that comet through my equatorial!' he cried.
Compared with comets, variable stars, which he had hitherto made his study, were, from
their remoteness, uninteresting.
They were to the former, as the celebrities of Ujiji or Unamwezi, to the celebrities of
his own country.
Members of the solar system, these dazzling and perplexing rangers, the fascination of
all astronomers, rendered themselves still more fascinating by the sinister suspicion
attaching to them of being possibly the ultimate destroyers of the human race.
In his physical prostration St. Cleve wept bitterly at not being hale and strong enough
to welcome with proper honor the present specimen of these desirable visitors.
The strenuous wish to live and behold a new phenomenon, supplanting the utter weariness
of existence that he had heretofore experienced, gave him a new vitality.
The crisis passed, and there was a turn for the better, and after that he rapidly mended.
The comet had in all probability saved his life.
The limitless and complex wonders of the sky resumed their old power over his imagination.
The possibilities of that unfathomable blue ocean were endless.
Finer feats than ever he would perform were to be achieved in his investigation.
What Daly Constantine had said, that for one discovery made ten awaited making, was strikingly
verified by the sudden appearance of this splendid marvel.
The windows of St. Cleve's bedroom faced west, and nothing would satisfy him but that his
bed should be so pulled round as to give him a view of the low sky, in which the as yet
minute tadpole of fire was recognizable.
The mere sight of it seemed to lend him sufficient resolution to complete his own cure forthwith.
His only fear now was lest, for some unexpected cause or other, the comet should vanish before
he should get to the observatory on Rings Hill Spear.
In his fervor to begin observing, he directed that an old telescope, which he had used in
his first celestial attempts, should be tied at one end to the bed-post, and at the other
fixed near his eye as he reclined.
Equipped only with this rough improvisation, he began to take notes.
Lady Constantine was forgotten, till one day suddenly, wondering if she knew of the important
phenomenon.
He resolved in his mind whether, as a fellow-student and sincere friend of his, she ought not to
be sent for, and instructed in the use of the equatorial.
But though the image of Lady Constantine, in spite of her kindness and unmistakably
warm heart, had been obscured in his mind by the heavenly body, she had not so readily
forgotten him.
Too shy to repeat her visit after so nearly betraying her secret, she yet every day, by
the most ingenious and subtle means that could be devised by a woman who feared for
herself, but could not refrain from tampering with danger, ascertained the state of her
young friend's health.
On hearing of the turn in his condition she rejoiced on his account, and became yet more
despondent on her own.
If he had died she might have mused on him as her dear departed saint without much sin,
but his return to life was a delight that bewildered and dismayed.
One evening, a little later on, he was sitting at his bedroom window as usual, waiting for
a sufficient decline of light to reveal the comet's form, when he beheld crossing the
field contiguous to the house a figure which he knew to be hers.
He thought she must be coming to see him on the great comet question.
To discuss which with so delightful and kind a comrade was an expectation full of pleasure.
Hence he keenly observed her approach, till something happened that surprised him.
When at the descent of the hill she had reached a style that admitted to Mrs. Martin's garden,
Lady Constantine stood quite still for a minute or more, her gaze bent on the ground.
Instead of coming on to the house she went heavily and slowly back, almost as if in pain,
and then at length, quickening her pace, she was soon out of sight.
She appeared in the path no more that day.
End of chapter 10
