Chapter 39

When Farfrae descended out of the loft breathless from his
encounter with Henchard, he paused at the bottom to recover
himself. He arrived at the yard with the intention of
putting the horse into the gig himself (all the men having a
holiday), and driving to a village on the Budmouth Road.
Despite the fearful struggle he decided still to persevere
in his journey, so as to recover himself before going
indoors and meeting the eyes of Lucetta. He wished to
consider his course in a case so serious.

When he was just on the point of driving off Whittle arrived
with a note badly addressed, and bearing the word
"immediate" upon the outside. On opening it he was
surprised to see that it was unsigned. It contained a brief
request that he would go to Weatherbury that evening about
some business which he was conducting there. Farfrae knew
nothing that could make it pressing; but as he was bent upon
going out he yielded to the anonymous request, particularly
as he had a call to make at Mellstock which could be
included in the same tour. Thereupon he told Whittle of his
change of direction, in words which Henchard had overheard,
and set out on his way. Farfrae had not directed his man to
take the message indoors, and Whittle had not been supposed
to do so on his own responsibility.

Now the anonymous letter was a well-intentioned but clumsy
contrivance of Longways and other of Farfrae's men to
get him out of the way for the evening, in order that the
satirical mummery should fall flat, if it were attempted.
By giving open information they would have brought down upon
their heads the vengeance of those among their comrades who
enjoyed these boisterous old games; and therefore the plan
of sending a letter recommended itself by its indirectness.

For poor Lucetta they took no protective measure, believing
with the majority there was some truth in the scandal, which
she would have to bear as she best might.

It was about eight o'clock, and Lucetta was sitting in the
drawing-room alone. Night had set in for more than half an
hour, but she had not had the candles lighted, for when
Farfrae was away she preferred waiting for him by the
firelight, and, if it were not too cold, keeping one of the
window-sashes a little way open that the sound of his wheels
might reach her ears early. She was leaning back in the
chair, in a more hopeful mood than she had enjoyed since her
marriage. The day had been such a success, and the
temporary uneasiness which Henchard's show of effrontery had
wrought in her disappeared with the quiet disappearance of
Henchard himself under her husband's reproof. The floating
evidences of her absurd passion for him, and its
consequences, had been