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Carriford Road Station just soon enough to meet the last London
train。
He soon began to notice in the sky a slight yellow halo； near the
horizon。 It rapidly increased； it changed colour； and grew redder；
then the glare visibly brightened and dimmed at intervals； showing
that its origin was affected by the strong wind prevailing。
Manston reined in his horse on the summit of a hill； and considered。
'It is a rick…yard on fire；' he thought； 'no house could produce
such a raging flame so suddenly。'
He trotted on again； attempting to particularize the local features
in the neighbourhood of the fire； but this it was too dark to do；
and the excessive winding of the roads misled him as to its
direction； not being an old inhabitant of the district； or a
countryman used to forming such judgments； whilst the brilliancy of
the light shortened its real remoteness to an apparent distance of
not more than half： it seemed so near that he again stopped his
horse； this time to listen； but he could hear no sound。
Entering now a narrow valley； the sides of which obscured the sky to
an angle of perhaps thirty or forty degrees above the mathematical
horizon； he was obliged to suspend his judgment till he was in
possession of further knowledge； having however assumed in the
interim； that the fire was somewhere between Carriford Road Station
and the village。
The self…same glare had just arrested the eyes of another man。 He
was at that minute gliding along several miles to the east of the
steward's position； but nearing the same point as that to which
Manston tended。 The younger Edward Springrove was returning from
London to his father's house by the identical train which the
steward was expecting to bring his wife； the truth being that
Edward's lateness was owing to the simplest of all causes； his
temporary want of money； which led him to make a slow journey for
the sake of travelling at third…class fare。
Springrove had received Cytherea's bitter and admonitory letter； and
he was clearly awakened to a perception of the false position in
which he had placed himself； by keeping silence at Budmouth on his
long engagement。 An increasing reluctance to put an end to those
few days of ecstasy with Cytherea had overruled his conscience； and
tied his tongue till speaking was too late。
'Why did I do it？ how could I dream of loving her？' he asked himself
as he walked by day； as he tossed on his bed by night： 'miserable
folly！'
An impressionable heart had for yearsperhaps as many as six or
seven yearsbeen distracting him； by unconsciously setting itself
to yearn for somebody wanting； he scarcely knew whom。 Echoes of
himself； though rarely； he now and then found。 Sometimes they were
men； sometimes women； his cousin Adelaide being one of these； for in
spite of a fashion which pervades the whole community at the present
daythe habit of exclaiming that woman is not undeveloped man； but
diverse； the fact remains that； after all； women are Mankind； and
that in many of the sentiments of life the difference of sex is but
a difference of degree。
But the indefinable helpmate to the remoter sides of himself still
continued invisible。 He grew older； and concluded that the ideas；
or rather emotions； which possessed him on the subject； were
probably too unreal ever to be found embodied in the flesh of a
woman。 Thereupon； he developed a plan of satisfying his dreams by
wandering away to the heroines of poetical imagination； and took no
further thought on the earthly realization of his formless desire；
in more homely matters satisfying himself with his cousin。
Cytherea appeared in the sky： his heart started up and spoke：
'Tis She； and here
Lo！ I unclothe and clear
My wishes' cloudy character。'
Some women kindle emotion so rapidly in a man's heart that the
judgment cannot keep pace with its rise； and finds； on comprehending
the situation； that faithfulness to the old love is already
treachery to the new。 Such women are not necessarily the greatest
of their sex； but there are very few of them。 Cytherea was one。
On receiving the letter from her he had taken to thinking over these
things； and had not answered it at all。 But 'hungry generations'
soon tread down the muser in a city。 At length he thought of the
strong necessity of living。 After a dreary search； the negligence
of which was ultimately overcome by mere conscientiousness； he
obtained a situation as assistant to an architect in the
neighbourhood of Charing Cross： the duties would not begin till
after the lapse of a month。
He could not at first decide whither he should go to spend the
intervening time； but in the midst of his reasonings he found
himself on the road homeward； impelled by a secret and unowned hope
of getting a last glimpse of Cytherea there。
5。 MIDNIGHT
It was a quarter to twelve when Manston drove into the station…yard。
The train was punctual； and the bell； announcing its arrival； rang
as he crossed the booking…office to go out upon the platform。
The porter who had accompanied Mrs。 Manston to Carriford； and had
returned to the station on his night duty； recognized the steward as
he entered； and immediately came towards him。
'Mrs。 Manston came by the nine o'clock train； sir；' he said。
The steward gave vent to an expression of vexation。
'Her luggage is here； sir；' the porter said。
'Put it up behind me in the gig if it is not too much；' said
Manston。
'Directly this train is in and gone； sir。'
The man vanished and crossed the line to meet the entering train。
'Where is that fire？' Manston said to the booking…clerk。
Before the clerk could speak； another man ran in and answered the
question without having heard it。
'Half Carriford is burnt down； or will be！' he exclaimed。 'You
can't see the flames from this station on account of the trees； but
step on the bridge'tis tremendous！'
He also crossed the line to assist at the entry of the train； which
came in the next minute。
The steward stood in the office。 One passenger alighted； gave up
his ticket； and crossed the room in front of Manston： a young man
with a black bag and umbrella in his hand。 He passed out of the
door； down the steps； and struck out into the darkness。
'Who was that young man？' said Manston； when the porter had
returned。 The young man； by a kind of magnetism； had drawn the
steward's thoughts after him。
'He's an architect。'
'My own old profession。 I could have sworn it by the cut of him；'
Manston murmured。 'What's his name？' he said again。
'SpringroveFarmer Springrove's son； Edward。'
'Farmer Springrove's son； Edward；' the steward repeated to himself；
and considered a matter to which the words had painfully recalled
his mind。
The matter was Miss Aldclyffe's mention of the young man as
Cytherea's lover； which； indeed； had scarcely ever been absent from
his thoughts。
'But for the existence of my wife that man might have been my
rival；' he pondered； following the porter； who had now come back to
him； into the luggage…room。 And whilst the man was carrying out and
putting in one box； which was sufficiently portable for the gig；
Manston still thought； as his eyes watched the process
'But for my wife； Springrove might have been my rival。'
He examined the lamps of his gig； carefully laid out the reins；
mounted the seat and drove along the turnpike…road towards Knapwater
Park。
The exact locality of the fire was plain to him as he neared home。
He soon could hear the shout of men； the flapping of the flames； the
crackling of burning wood； and could smell the smoke from the
conflagration。
Of a sudden； a few yards ahead； within the compass of the rays from
the right…hand lamp； burst forward the figure of a man。 Having been
walking in darkness the newcomer raised his hands to his eyes； on
approaching nearer； to screen them from the glare of the reflector。
Manston saw that he was one of the villagers： a small farmer
originally； who had drunk himself down to a day…labourer and reputed
poacher。
'Hoy！' cried Manston； aloud； that the man might step aside out of
the way。
'Is that Mr。 Manston？' said the man。
'Yes。'
'Somebody ha' come to Carriford： and the rest of it may concern
you； sir。'
'Well； well。'
'Did you expect Mrs。 Manston to…night； sir？'
'Yes； unfortunately she's come； I know； and asleep long before this
time； I suppose。'
The labourer leant his elbow upon the shaft of the gig and turned
his face； pale and sweating from his late work at the fire； up to
Manston's。
'Yes； she did come；' he said。 。 。 。 'I beg pardon； sir； but I
should be glad ofof'
'What？'
'Glad of a trifle for bringen ye the news。'
'Not a farthing！ I didn't want your news； I knew she was come。'
'Won't you give me a shillen； sir？'
'Certainly not。'
'Then will you lend me a shillen； sir？ I be tired out； and don't
know what to do。 If I don't pay you back some day I'll be dd。'
'The devil is so cheated that perdition isn't worth a penny as a
security。'
'Oh！'
'Let me go on；' said Manston。
'Thy wife is DEAD； that's 'the rest o' the news；' said the labourer
slowly。 He waited for a reply； none