The young man lit a cigar and followed the bevy of maidens slowly up
the road. They had turned into the wood at an opening between
Melbury's and Marty South's; but Fitzpiers could easily track them by
their voices, low as they endeavored to keep their tones.
In the mean time other inhabitants of Little Hintock had become aware
of the nocturnal experiment about to be tried, and were also sauntering
stealthily after the frisky maidens. Miss Melbury had been informed by
Marty South during the day of the proposed peep into futurity, and,
being only a girl like the rest, she was sufficiently interested to
wish to see the issue. The moon was so bright and the night so calm
that she had no difficulty in persuading Mrs. Melbury to accompany her;
and thus, joined by Marty, these went onward in the same direction.
Passing Winterborne's house, they heard a noise of hammering. Marty
explained it. This was the last night on which his paternal roof would
shelter him, the days of grace since it fell into hand having expired;
and Giles was taking down his cupboards and bedsteads with a view to an
early exit next morning. His encounter with Mrs. Charmond had cost him
dearly.
When they had proceeded a little farther Marty was joined by Grammer
Oliver (who was as young as the youngest in such matters), and Grace
and Mrs. Melbury went on by themselves till they had arrived at the
spot chosen by the village daughters, whose primary intention of
keeping their expedition a secret had been quite defeated. Grace and
her step-mother paused by a holly-tree; and at a little distance stood
Fitzpiers under the shade of a young oak, intently observing Grace, who
was in the full rays of the moon.
He watched her without speaking, and unperceived by any but Marty and
Grammer, who had drawn up on the dark side of the same holly which
sheltered Mrs. and Miss Melbury on its bright side. The two former
conversed in low tones.
"If they two come up in Wood next Midsummer Night they'll come as one,"
said Grammer, signifying Fitzpiers and Grace. "Instead of my
skellington he'll carry home her living carcass before long. But though
she's a lady in herself, and worthy of any such as he, it do seem to me
that he ought to marry somebody more of the sort of Mrs. Charmond, and
that Miss Grace should make the best of Winterborne."
Marty returned no comment; and at that minute the girls, some of whom
were from Great Hintock, were seen advancing to work the incantation,
it being now about midnight.