me, surely they will call me,' he thought, wondering
more and more. He could no longer doubt that he was connected with the
subject of their discourse.

The first who approached him was a boy.

'What has occurred?' said Owen.

'O, a man ha' got crazy-religious, and sent for the pa'son.'

'Is that all?'

'Yes, sir. He wished he was dead, he said, and he's almost out of his
mind wi' wishen it so much. That was before Mr. Raunham came.'

'Who is he?' said Owen.

'Joseph Chinney, one of the railway-porters; he used to be
night-porter.'

'Ah--the man who was ill this afternoon; by the way, he was told to come
to the Old House for something, but he hasn't been. But has anything
else happened--anything that concerns the wedding to-day?'

'No, sir.'

Concluding that the connection which had seemed to be traced between
himself and the event must in some way have arisen from Cytherea's
friendliness towards the man, Owen turned about and went homewards in
a much quieter frame of mind--yet scarcely satisfied with the solution.
The route he had chosen led through the dairy-yard, and he opened the
gate.

Five minutes before this point of time, Edward Springrove was looking
over one of his father's fields at an outlying hamlet of three or four
cottages some mile and a half distant. A turnpike-gate was close by the
gate of the field.

The carrier to Casterbridge came up as Edward stepped into the road, and
jumped down from the van to pay toll. He recognized Springrove. 'This is
a pretty set-to in your place, sir,' he said. 'You don't know about it,
I suppose?'

'What?' said Springrove.

The carrier paid his dues, came up to Edward, and spoke ten words in a
confidential whisper: then sprang upon the shafts of his vehicle, gave a
clinching nod of significance to Springrove, and rattled away.

Edward turned pale with the intelligence. His first thought was, 'Bring
her home!'

The next--did Owen Graye know what had been discovered? He probably
did by that time, but no risks of probability must be run by a woman
he loved dearer than all the world besides. He would at any rate make
perfectly sure that her brother was in possession of the knowledge, by
telling it him with his own lips.

Off he ran in the direction of the old manor-house.

The path was across arable land, and was ploughed up with the rest of
the field every autumn, after which it was trodden out afresh. The thaw
had so loosened the soft earth, that lum