苔斯-第6部分

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She　travelled　partly　by　carriage　and　partly　on　foot，carrying　her　basket．Not　far　to　her　left　she　could　see　the　trees　which　surrounded　Kingsbere，with　its　church　where　her　ancestors　lay　in　their　tombs．She　could　no　longer　admire　or　respect　them．　She　almost　hated　them　for　ruining　her　life．Nothing　of　theirs　was　left　except　the　old　seal　and　spoon．

‘Huh！I　have　as　much　of　mother　as　father　in　me！’she　said．

‘All　my　prettiness　comes　from　her，and　she　was　only　a　dairymaid．’

Her　walk　took　two　hours，until　she　reached　the　hill　overlooking　the　Valley　of　the　Great　Dairies．　This　valley　was　watered　by　the　river　Froom，and　produced　huge　amounts　of　milk　and　butter，more　even　than　Tess's　Vale　of　Blackmoor，　which　was　known　as　the　Vale　of　Little　Dairies．

As　she　stood　and　looked，she　realized　the　valleys　were　quite　different．Here　the　fields　and　farms　were　much　larger．　She　saw　more　cows　at　a　glance　than　she　had　ever　seen　before．The　evening　sun　shone　on　their　red，white　and　brown　bodies．She　thought　that　this　view　was　perhaps　not　as　beautiful　as　a　view　of　Blackmoor　Vale，which　she　knew　so　well．There　the　sky　was　deep　blue，the　smell　of　the　earth　was　heavy　in　the　air，the　streams　ran　slowly　and　silently．But　this　view　was　more　cheerful．　Here　the　air　was　clear　and　light，　and　the　river　Froom　rushed　as　fast　as　the　shadow　of　a　cloud．

Either　the　change　in　the　quality　of　the　air，or　the　feeling　that　she　was　going　to　start　a　new　life　here，　made　her　feel　much　happier．She　ran　along，　her　hopes　and　the　sunshine　warming　her．

She　looked　at　her　best　as　she　ran　laughing　into　the　warm　wind．The　desire　for　pleasure，　which　is　in　every　living　thing，　had　finally　won　over　Tess．　She　was，after　all，only　a　young　woman　of　twenty，　who　had　not　finished　growing　up．　No　event，however　unpleasant，could　have　marked　her　for　ever．　She　was　young　and　strong　and　beautiful，　and　could　not　remain　sad　for　long．

Her　hopes　rose　higher　than　ever．　She　wanted　to　show　how　grateful　she　was　for　this　second　chance．She　started　singing　love　songs，but　found　they　were　not　enough　to　express　her　feelings．She　remembered　the　Sunday　mornings　of　her　girlhood，and　sang：‘Oh　sun　and　moon…　Oh　stars…　Oh　children　of　men…　Praise　the　Lord！　Praise　Him　for　ever！’　until　she　stopped　suddenly　and　murmured，　‘But　perhaps　I　don't　quite　know　the　Lord　yet．’

This　was　probably　a　pagan　feeling　in　a　religious　form．　People　who　live　in　the　country　and　are　close　to　nature，　like　Tess，keep　many　of　the　pagan　ideas　of　their　ancestors　in　their　souls．Religion　learned　in　church　comes　much　later，　and　does　not　touch　them　deeply．

Tess　was　happy　to　be　making　her　way　independently　in　life．　She　really　wanted　to　live　honestly　and　work　hard，unlike　her　father．Tess　had　her　mother's　energy　and　the　energy　of　her　youth　to　help　her　recover　from　her　experience．　Women　do　usually　live　through　such　experiences．‘Where　there's　life　there's　hope’　is　still　true　for　most‘betrayed’women．

As　Tess，full　of　enthusiasm，came　downhill　towards　the　dairy，she　suddenly　heard　the　milking　call，again　and　again，　from　all　parts　of　the　valley．It　was　half－past　four，　when　the　dairy　people　brought　in　the　cows．　Tess　followed　the　red　and　white　animals，with　their　great　bags　of　milk　under　them，into　the　farmyard．　She　saw　the　long　sheds，　and　the　wooden　posts，　shining　and　smooth　where　the　cows　had　rubbed　against　them　over　the　years．　She　saw　the　cows　between　the　posts，the　sun　throwing　their　shadows　on　the　wall　as　carefully　as　a　painter　paints　a　beautiful　king　or　queen．As　the　cows　waited　for　their　turn，the　milk　fell　in　drops　on　the　ground．

The　dairymaids　and　men　had　come　from　their　cottages　as　they　saw　the　cows　arriving　from　the　fields．　Each　girl　sat　on　her　three－legged　stool　as　she　milked，her　right　cheek　resting　on　the　cow's　body，watching　Tess　arrive．The　men　milked　with　their　hats　low　over　their　eyes　and　did　not　see　her．One　of　them　was　a　middle－aged　man，the　head－dairyman　she　was　looking　for．He　worked　six　days　a　week　in　his　white　milking　clothes，　milking　and　butter－making，　and　on　the　seventh　he　wore　his　best　suit　to　take　his　family　proudly　to　church．　Because　of　this　people　nearby　used　to　say：

Dairyman　Dick

All　the　week，

On　Sundays　Mister　Richard　Crick．

Most　dairymen　are　usually　bad－tempered　at　milking　time，　but　Mr　Crick　was　glad　to　get　a　new　dairymaid　at　this　busy　time　of　the　year．So　he　received　Tess　warmly　and　asked　her　how　her　family　were．

‘When　I　was　a　boy　I　knew　your　part　of　the　country　very　well，’be　said．‘An　old　woman　of　ninety—she's　dead　now　but　she　used　to　live　near　here—she　once　told　me　there　was　an　ancient　noble　family　of　a　name　like　yours，who　came　from　here　originally．But　I　didn't　take　any　notice　of　an　old　woman　like　that．’

‘Oh　no，　that's　just　a　story，’said　Tess．

Then　Mr　Crick　turned　to　business．‘You　can　milk　well，my　girl？I　don't　want　my　cows　drying　up，especially　just　now．’

‘Oh　yes，I　can，’answered　Tess．

He　looked　at　her　delicate　hands　and　pale　face．

‘Quite　sure　you're　strong　enough　for　this　sort　of　life？　It's　comfortable　enough　here　for　rough　country　people　but　it's　hard　work．’

‘Oh　yes，I'm　strong　enough．　I'm　used　to　hard　work，’Tess　insisted．

‘Well，have　some　tea　and　something　to　eat．You've　had　a　long　journey，’he　said　kindly．

‘No，I'd　rather　begin　milking　straight　away，’said　Tess．　‘I'll　just　drink　a　little　milk　first．’

This　surprised　Dairyman　Crick，who　appeared　never　to　have　thought　of　milk　as　a　drink．

‘Oh，if　you　can　swallow　it，have　some，’he　said，holding　the　bucket　for　her　to　drink　from．‘I　haven't　touched　any　for　years．　It　would　lie　in　my　stomach　like　a　stone，so　it　would．　Now，try　that　one　and　see　how　you　get　on．’And　he　pointed　to　the　nearest　cow．

As　soon　as　Tess　was　on　her　stool　under　the　cow，　and　the　milk　was　pouring　between　her　fingers　into　the　bucket，she　really　felt　that　her　new　life　was　beginning．　As　she　relaxed，she　looked　around　her．

It　was　a　large　dairy．There　were　nearly　a　hundred　milking　cows．Dairyman　Crick　milked　six　or　eight　of　the　difficult　ones　with　his　own　hands．　He　could　not　trust　them　to　the　dairymaids，　because　if　the　cows　were　badly　milked　their　milk　would　simply　dry　up．

For　a　while　there　was　no　more　talk　among　the　milkers．　Suddenly　Mr　Crick　got　up　from　his　stool．

We're　not　getting　as　much　milk　from　them　as　usual，’he　said．‘We'd　better　sing　them　a　song，　friends，　that's　the　only　thing　to　do．’So　the　group　of　milkers　started　singing，to　encourage　the　cows　to　give　more．

Mr　Crick　went　on，‘But　I　think　bulls　like　music　better　than　cows．Did　I　tell　you　all　about　William　Dewy？　On　his　way　home　after　a　wedding　he　found　himself　in　a　field　with　an　angry　bull．　He　took　his　violin　and　played　some　Christmas　church　music　and　down　went　the　bull　on　his　knees！　Just　like　the　animals　around　baby　Jesus！　And　so　William　was　able　to　escape．’

‘It's　a　curious　story．It　takes　us　back　to　the　past，when　belief　in　God　was　a　living　thing．’This　unusual　remark　came　from　under　a　cow．

‘Well，　it's　quite　true，　sir，　believe　it　or　not．I　knew　the　man　well，’said　Mr　Crick．

‘Oh　yes，　I'm　sure　it's　true，’said　the　man　behind　the　brown　cow．Tess　could　not　see　his　face，and　could　not　understand　why　the　head－dairyman　himself　should　call　him　sir．The　man　stayed　under　the　cow　long　enough　to　milk　three，at　times　saying　something　angrily　to　himself．Then　he　stood　up，　stretching　his　arms．Tess　could　now　see　him　clearly．　He　wore　the　clothes　of　a　dairyman　but　underneath　he　was　quite　different．He　looked　educated　and　gentlemanly．

But　now　she　realized　that　she　had　seen　him　before．　He　was　one　of　the　three　walking　brothers　who　had　stopped　their　walk　to　admire　the　May－Day　dance　in　Marlott　a　few　years　before．　He　had　danced　with　some　of　the　other　girls　but　not　with　her．　He　had　not　noticed　her　and　had　gone　on　his　way．　For　a　moment　she　was　worried　that　if　he　recognized　her　he　might　discover　her　story．　But　she　soon　saw　he　did　not　remember　her　at　all．　Since　she　had　seen　him　in　Marlott，his　face　had　grown　more　thoughtful．　He　now　had　a　young　man's　moustache　and　beard．　From　the　time　he　had　spent　milking　one　cow，he　was　clearly　a　beginner　at　dairy　work．

Tess　discovered　that　only　two　or　three　of　the　dairymaids　slept　in　the　house，besides　herself．They　all　shared　a　big　bedroom　near　the　cheese　room．　That　night　one　of　the　girls　insisted　on　telling　Tess　about　all　the　people　at　the　dairy．　To　Tess，half　asleep，　the　whispers　seemed　to　be　floating　in　the　air．

‘Mr　Angel　Clare—he's　the　one　who's　learning　milking—　he's　a　parson's　son　and　thinks　a　lot　and　doesn't　notice　girls．　His　father　is　parson　at　Emminster，some　way　from　here．His　sons，except　Mr　Clare，are　going　to　be　parsons　too．’

Tess　gradually　fell　asleep．

　　



　


9

　　

Neither　Angel　Clare　nor　his　family　had　originally　chosen　farming　as　a　profession　for　him．　When　he　was　a　boy，　people　admired　his　great　qualities．Now　he　was　a　man，　something　vague　and　undecided　in　his　look　showed　that　he　had　no　particular　purpose　in　life．He　was　the　youngest　son　of　a　poor　parson．One　day　when　he　was　studying　at　home，　his　father　discovered　that　Angel　had　ordered　a　book　of　philosophy，　which　questioned　the　Church's　teaching．　How　could　his　son　become　a　priest　if　he　read　such　books？　Angel　explained　that　he　did　not　in　fact　wish　to　enter　the　Church　like　his　brothers，　because　the　Church's　views　were　too　strict　and　did　not　allow　free　thinking．　The　simple　parson　was　shocked．　He　was　a　man　of　fixed　ideas　and　a　firm　believer．　And　if　Angel　did　not　want　to　become　a　priest，　what　was　the　use　of　sending　him　to　study　at　Cambridge？　For　the　parson　the　whole　point　of　going　to　university　was　to　become　a　minister　of　God．

‘I　want　to　use　my　mind，’Angel　insisted．‘　I　want　to　read　philosophy．I　want　to　question　my　belief，so　that　what　is　left　after　I　have　questioned　it，　will　be　even　stronger．’

‘But　Angel，your　mother　and　I　have　saved　and　saved　to　send　you　to　university　like　your　brothers．　But　how　can　we　send　you　there　if　it　is　not　in　the　service　of　God？’

So　Angel　did　not　have　the　advantage　of　a　university　education．　After　some　years　studying　at　home　he　de