For a considerable time the woman walked on. Her steps became feebler, and she strained her eyes to look afar upon the naked road, now indistinct amid the penumbræ of night.
At length her onward walk dwindled to the merest totter, and she opened a gate within which was a haystack. Underneath this she sat down and presently slept. SHE OPENED A GATE WITHIN WHICH WAS A HAYSTACK. UNDER THIS SHE SAT DOWN.
When the woman awoke it was to find herself in the depths of a moonless and starless night.
A heavy unbroken crust of cloud stretched across the sky, shutting out every speck of heaven; and a distant halo which hung over the town of Casterbridge was visible against the black concave, the luminosity appearing the brighter by its great contrast with the circumscribing darkness.
Towards this weak, soft glow the woman turned her eyes. 'If I could only get there! ' she said. 'Meet him the day after to-morrow: God help me! Perhaps I shall be in my grave before then.
' A clock from the far depths of shadow struck the hour, one, in a small, attenuated tone. After midnight the voice of a clock seems to lose in breadth as much as in length, and to diminish its sonorousness to a thin falsetto.
Afterwards a light—two lights—arose from the remote shade, and grew larger. A carriage rolled along the road, and passed the gate. It probably contained some late diners-out. The beams from one lamp shone for a moment upon the crouching woman, and threw her face into vivid relief.
The face was young in the groundwork, old in the finish; the general contours were flexuous and childlike, but the finer lineaments had begun to be sharp and thin. The pedestrian stood up, apparently with revived determination,