to go to Mistover, and on no account
to deliver them into any one's hands save her son's and Thomasin's. On
further thought she deemed it advisable to tell Christian precisely
what the two bags contained, that he might be fully impressed with their
importance. Christian pocketed the moneybags, promised the greatest
carefulness, and set out on his way.

"You need not hurry," said Mrs. Yeobright. "It will be better not to get
there till after dusk, and then nobody will notice you. Come back here
to supper, if it is not too late."

It was nearly nine o'clock when he began to ascend the vale towards
Mistover; but the long days of summer being at their climax, the first
obscurity of evening had only just begun to tan the landscape. At
this point of his journey Christian heard voices, and found that they
proceeded from a company of men and women who were traversing a hollow
ahead of him, the tops only of their heads being visible.

He paused and thought of the money he carried. It was almost too early
even for Christian seriously to fear robbery; nevertheless he took
a precaution which ever since his boyhood he had adopted whenever he
carried more than two or three shillings upon his person--a precaution
somewhat like that of the owner of the Pitt Diamond when filled with
similar misgivings. He took off his boots, untied the guineas, and
emptied the contents of one little bag into the right boot, and of
the other into the left, spreading them as flatly as possible over the
bottom of each, which was really a spacious coffer by no means limited
to the size of the foot. Pulling them on again and lacing them to the
very top, he proceeded on his way, more easy in his head than under his
soles.

His path converged towards that of the noisy company, and on coming
nearer he found to his relief that they were several Egdon people whom
he knew very well, while with them walked Fairway, of Blooms-End.

"What! Christian going too?" said Fairway as soon as he recognized the
newcomer. "You've got no young woman nor wife to your name to gie a
gown-piece to, I'm sure."

"What d'ye mean?" said Christian.

"Why, the raffle. The one we go to every year. Going to the raffle as
well as ourselves?"

"Never knew a word o't. Is it like cudgel playing or other sportful
forms of bloodshed? I don't want to go, thank you, Mister Fairway, and
no offence."

"Christian don't know the fun o't, and 'twould be a fine sight for him,"
said a buxom