VII
ARABELLA was preparing breakfast in the downstairs back room of this small,
recently hired tenement of her father's. She put her head into the little
pork-shop in front, and told Mr. Donn it was ready. Donn, endeavouring to
look like a master pork-butcher, in a greasy blue blouse, and with a strap
round his waist from which a steel dangled, came in promptly.
"You must mind the shop this morning," he said casually.
"I've to go and get some inwards and half a pig from Lumsdon,
and to call elsewhere. If you live here you must put your shoulder
to the wheel, at least till I get the business started!"
"Well, for to-day I can't say." She looked deedily into his face.
"I've got a prize upstairs."
"Oh? What's that?"
"A husband--almost."
"No!"
"Yes. It's Jude. He's come back to me."
"Your old original one? Well, I'm damned!"
"Well, I always did like him, that I will say."
"But how does he come to be up there?" said Donn, humour-struck, and nodding
to the ceiling.
"Don't ask inconvenient questions, Father. What we've to do is to keep him
here till he and I are--as we were."
"How was that?"
"Married."
"Ah.... Well it is the rummest thing I ever heard of--
marrying an old husband again, and so much new blood in the world!
He's no catch, to my thinking. I'd have had a new one while I
was about it."
"It isn't rum for a woman to want her old husband back for respectability,
though for a man to want his old wife back--well, perhaps it is funny,
rather!" And Arabella was suddenly seized with a fit of loud laughter,
in which her father joined more moderately.
"Be civil to him, and I'll do the rest," she said when she had
recovered seriousness. "He told me this morning that his head
ached fit to burst, and he hardly seemed to know where he was.
And no wonder, considering how he mixed his drink last night.
We must keep him jolly and cheerful here for a day or two,
and not let him go back to his lodging. Whatever you advance I'll
pay back to you again. But I must go up and see how he is now,
poor deary."
Arabella ascended the stairs, softly opened the door of the
first bedroom, and peeped in. Finding that her shorn Samson
was asleep she entered to the bedside and stood regarding him.
The fevered flush on his face from the debauch of the previous
evening lessened the fragility of his ordinary appearance,
and his long lashes, dark brows, and curly back hair and beard
against the white pillow completed the physiognomy of one
whom Arabella, as a woman of rank passions, still felt it worth
while to recapture, highly important to recapture as a woman
straitened both in means and in reputation. Her ardent gaze
seemed to affect him; his quick breathing became suspended,
and he opened his eyes.
"How are you now, dear?" said she. "It is I--Arabella."
"Ah!--where--oh yes, I remember! You gave me shelter.... I
am stranded--ill--demoralized--damn bad! That's what I am!"
"Then do stay here. There's nobody in the house but father and me,
and you can rest till you are thoroughly well. I'll tell them at
the stoneworks that you are knocked up."
"I wonder what they are thinking at the lodgings!"
"I'll go round and explain. Perhaps you had better let me pay up,
or they'll think we've run away?"
"Yes. You'll find enough money in my pocket there."
Quite indifferent, and shutting his eyes because he could not bear
the daylight in his throbbing eye-balls, Jude seemed to doze again.
Arabella took his purse, softly left the room, and putting on her
outdoor things went off to the lodgings she and he had quitted
the evening before.
Scarcely half an hour had elapsed ere she reappeared round the corner,
walking beside a lad wheeling a truck on which were piled all Jude's
household possessions, and also the few of Arabella's things
which she had taken to the lodging for her short sojourn there.
Jude was in such physical pain from his unfortunate break-down
of the previous night, and in such mental pain from the loss of Sue
and from having yielded in his half-somnolent state to Arabella,
that when he saw his few chattels unpacked and standing before his
eyes in this strange bedroom, intermixed with woman's apparel,
he scarcely considered how they had come there, or what their
coming signalized.
"Now," said Arabella to her father downstairs, "we must keep
plenty of good liquor going in the house these next few days.
I know his nature, and if he once gets into that fearfully low state
that he does get into sometimes, he'll never do the honourable
thing by me in this world, and I shall be left in the lurch.
He must be kept cheerful. He has a little money in the savings bank,
and he has given me his purse to pay for anything necessary.
Well, that will be the licence; for I must have that ready at hand,
to catch him the moment he's in the humour. You must pay for the liquor.
A few friends, and a quiet convivial party would be the thing,
if we could get it up. It would advertise the shop, and help
me too."
"That can be got up easy enough by anybody who'll afford
victuals and drink.... Well yes--it would advertise the shop--
that's true."
Three days later, when Jude had recovered somewhat from the fearful
throbbing of his eyes and brain, but was still considerably confused in his
mind by what had been supplied to him by Arabella during the interval--
to keep him, jolly, as she expressed it--the quiet convivial gathering,
suggested by her, to wind Jude up to the striking point, took place.
Donn had only just opened his miserable little pork and sausage shop,
which had as yet scarce any customers; nevertheless that party advertised
it well, and the Donns acquired a real notoriety among a certain class
in Christminster who knew not the colleges, nor their works, nor their ways.
Jude was asked if he could suggest any guest in addition to those named
by Arabella and her father, and in a saturnine humour of perfect
recklessness mentioned Uncle Joe, and Stagg, and the decayed auctioneer,
and others whom he remembered as having been frequenters of the well-known
tavern during his bout therein years before. He also suggested Freckles
and Bower o' Bliss. Arabella took him at his word so far as the men went,
but drew the line at the ladies.
Another man they knew, Tinker Taylor, though he lived in the same street,
was not invited; but as he went homeward from a late job on the evening
of the party, he had occasion to call at the shop for trotters.
There were none in, but he was promised some the next morning.
While making his inquiry Taylor glanced into the back room, and saw
the guests sitting round, card-playing, and drinking, and otherwise
enjoying themselves at Donn's expense. He went home to bed,
and on his way out next morning wondered how the party went off.
He thought it hardly worth while to call at the shop for his
provisions at that hour, Donn and his daughter being probably not up,
if they caroused late the night before. However, he found in
passing that the door was open, and he could hear voices within,
though the shutters of the meat-stall were not down. He went and tapped
at the sitting-room door, and opened it.
"Well--to be sure!" he said, astonished.
Hosts and guests were sitting card-playing, smoking, and talking,
precisely as he had left them eleven hours earlier; the gas was
burning and the curtains drawn, though it had been broad daylight
for two hours out of doors.
"Yes!" cried Arabella, laughing. "Here we are, just the same.
We ought to be ashamed of ourselves, oughtn't we! But it is a sort
of housewarming, you see; and our friends are in no hurry. Come in,
Mr. Taylor, and sit down."
The tinker, or rather reduced ironmonger, was nothing loath, and entered
and took a seat. "I shall lose a quarter, but never mind," he said.
"Well, really, I could hardly believe my eyes when I looked in!
It seemed as if I was flung back again into last night, all of a sudden."
"So you are. Pour out for Mr. Taylor."
He now perceived that she was sitting beside Jude, her arm
being round his waist. Jude, like the rest of the company,
bore on his face the signs of how deeply he had been indulging.
"Well, we've been waiting for certain legal hours to arrive,
to tell the truth," she continued bashfully, and making her
spirituous crimson look as much like a maiden blush as possible.
"Jude and I have decided to make up matters between us by tying
the knot again, as we find we can't do without one another
after all. So, as a bright notion, we agreed to sit on till it
was late enough, and go and do it off-hand."
Jude seemed to pay no great heed to what she was announcing,
or indeed to anything whatever. The entrance of Taylor infused
fresh spirit into the company, and they remained sitting,
till Arabella whispered to her father: "Now we may as well go."
"But the parson don't know?"
"Yes, I told him last night that we might come between eight and nine,
as there were reasons of decency for doing it as early and quiet as possible;
on account of it being our second marriage, which might make people curious to
look on if they knew. He highly approved."
"Oh very well: I'm ready," said her father, getting up and shaking himself.
"Now, old darling," she said to Jude. "Come along, as you promised."
"When did I promise anything?" asked he, whom she had made so tipsy
by her special knowledge of that line of business as almost to have made
him sober again--or to seem so to those who did not know him.
"Why!" said Arabella, affecting dismay. "You've promised to marry me
several times as we've sat here to-night. These gentlemen have heard you."
"I don't remember it," said Jude doggedly. "There's only one woman--
but I won't mention her in this Capharnaum!"
Arabella looked towards her father. "Now, Mr. Fawley be honourable,"
said Donn. "You and my daughter have been living here together these three
or four days, quite on the understanding that you were going to marry her.
Of course I shouldn't have had such goings on in my house if I hadn't
understood that. As a point of honour you must do it now."
"Don't say anything against my honour!" enjoined Jude hotly, standing up.
"I'd marry the W---- of Babylon rather than do anything dishonourable!
No reflection on you, my dear. It is a mere rhetorical figure--what they call
in the books, hyperbole."
"Keep your figures for your debts to friends who shelter you,"
said Donn.
"If I am bound in honour to marry her--as I suppose I am--
though how I came to be here with her I know no more than
a dead man--marry her I will, so help me God! I have never
behaved dishonourably to a woman or to any living thing.
I am not a man who wants to save himself at the expense of
the weaker among us!"
"There--never mind him, deary," said she, putting her cheek against Jude's.
"Come up and wash your face, and just put yourself tidy, and off we'll go.
Make it up with Father."
They shook hands. Jude went upstairs with her, and soon came down looking
tidy and calm. Arabella, too, had hastily arranged herself, and accompanied
by Donn away they went.
"Don't go," she said to the guests at parting. "I've told
the little maid to get the breakfast while we are gone;
and when we come back we'll all have some. A good strong cup
of tea will set everybody right for going home."
When Arabella, Jude, and Donn had disappeared on their matrimonial
errand the assembled guests yawned themselves wider awake,
and discussed the situation with great interest. Tinker Taylor,
being the most sober, reasoned the most lucidly.
"I don't wish to speak against friends," he said. "But it
do seem a rare curiosity for a couple to marry over again!
If they couldn't get on the first time when their minds were limp,
they won't the second, by my reckoning."
"Do you think he'll do it?"
"He's been put upon his honour by the woman, so he med."
"He'd hardly do it straight off like this. He's got no licence nor anything."
"She's got that, bless you. Didn't you hear her say so to her father?"
"Well," said Tinker Taylor, relighting his pipe at the gas-jet. "Take
her all together, limb by limb, she's not such a bad-looking piece--
particular by candlelight. To be sure, halfpence that have been
in circulation can't be expected to look like new ones from the mint.
But for a woman that's been knocking about the four hemispheres
for some time, she's passable enough. A little bit thick in
the flitch perhaps: but I like a woman that a puff o' wind won't
blow down."
Their eyes followed the movements of the little girl as she
spread the breakfast-cloth on the table they had been using,
without wiping up the slops of the liquor. The curtains were undrawn,
and the expression of the house made to look like morning.
Some of the guests, however, fell asleep in their chairs.
One or two went to the door, and gazed along the street more
than once. Tinker Taylor was the chief of these, and after a time
he came in with a leer on his face.
"By Gad, they are coming! I think the deed's done!"
"No," said Uncle Joe, following him in. "Take my word, he turned
rusty at the last minute. They are walking in a very unusual way;
and that's the meaning of it!"
They waited in silence till the wedding-party could be heard entering
the house. First into the room came Arabella boisterously; and her face
was enough to show that her strategy had succeeded.
"Mrs. Fawley, I presume?" said Tinker Taylor with mock courtesy.
"Certainly. Mrs. Fawley again," replied Arabella blandly,
pulling off her glove and holding out her left hand.
"There's the padlock, see.... Well, he was a very nice,
gentlemanly man indeed. I mean the clergyman.
He said to me as gentle as a babe when all was done:
'Mrs. Fawley, I congratulate you heartily,' he says.
'For having heard your history, and that of your husband,
I think you have both done the right and proper thing.
And for your past errors as a wife, and his as a husband,
I think you ought now to be forgiven by the world, as you
have forgiven each other,' says he. Yes: he was a very nice,
gentlemanly man. 'The Church don't recognize divorce in her dogma,
strictly speaking,' he says: 'and bear in mind the words
of the service in your goings out and your comings in:
What God hath joined together let no man put asunder.' Yes:
he was a very nice, gentlemanly man.... But, Jude, my dear,
you were enough to make a cat laugh! You walked that straight,
and held yourself that steady, that one would have thought
you were going 'prentice to a judge; though I knew you were
seeing double all the time, from the way you fumbled with
my finger."
"I said I'd do anything to--save a woman's honour," muttered Jude.
"And I've done it!"
"Well now, old deary, come along and have some breakfast."
"I want--some--more whisky," said Jude stolidly.
"Nonsense, dear. Not now! There's no more left. The tea will take
the muddle out of our heads, and we shall be as fresh as larks."
"All right. I've--married you. She said I ought to marry you again,
and I have straightway. It is true religion! Ha--ha--ha!"
