This had gone on for a month or two when there came a Saturday in

September, on which a fair and a market coincided; and the pilgrims

from Trantridge sought double delights at the inns on that account.

Tess's occupations made her late in setting out, so that her comrades

reached the town long before her. It was a fine September evening,

just before sunset, when yellow lights struggle with blue shades in

hairlike lines, and the atmosphere itself forms a prospect without

aid from more solid objects, except the innumerable winged insects

that dance in it. Through this low-lit mistiness Tess walked

leisurely along. She did not discover the coincidence of the market with the fair till

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she had reached the place, by which time it was close upon dusk. Her

limited marketing was soon completed; and then as usual she began to

look about for some of the Trantridge cottagers.

At first she could not find them, and she was informed that most of

them had gone to what they called a private little jig at the house

of a hay-trusser and peat-dealer who had transactions with their

farm. He lived in an out-of-the-way nook of the townlet, and in

trying to find her course thither her eyes fell upon Mr d'Urberville

standing at a street corner. "What--my Beauty? You here so late?" he said.

She told him that she was simply waiting for company homeward.

"I'll see you again," said he over her shoulder as she went on down

the back lane. Approaching the hay-trussers, she could hear the fiddled notes of

a reel proceeding from some building in the rear; but no sound of

dancing was audible--an exceptional state of things for these parts,

where as a rule the stamping drowned the music. The front door being

open she could see straight through the house into the garden at the

back as far as the shades of night would allow; and nobody appearing

to her knock, she traversed the dwelling and went up the path to the

outhouse whence the sound had attracted her.

It was a windowless erection used for storage, and from the open door

there floated into the obscurity a mist of yellow radiance, which at

first Tess thought to be illuminated smoke. But on drawing nearer

she perceived that it was a cloud of dust, lit by candles within the

outhouse, whose beams upon the haze carried forward the outline of

the doorway into the wide night of the garden.

When she came close and looked in she beheld indistinct forms

racing up and down to the figure of the dance, the silence of their

footfalls arising from their being overshoe in "scroff"--that is

to say, the powdery residuum from the storage of peat and other

products, the stirring of which by their turbulent feet created the

nebulosity that involved the scene. Through this floating, fusty

debris of peat and hay, mixed with the perspirations and warmth of

the dancers, and forming together a sort of vegeto-human pollen, the

muted fiddles feebly pushed their notes, in marked contrast to the

spirit with which the measure was trodden out. They coughed as

they danced, and laughed as they coughed. Of the rushing couples

there could barely be discerned more than the high lights--the

indistinctness shaping them to satyrs clasping nymphs--a multiplicity

of Pans whirling a multiplicity of Syrinxes; Lotis attempting to

elude Priapus, and always failing.




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