roy went on--

"I shall soon purchase my discharge, and then--"

"But I wish you to hasten on this marriage! It will be better for
you both. You love each other, and you must let me help you to do
it."

"How?"

"Why, by settling the five hundred on Bathsheba instead of Fanny, to
enable you to marry at once. No; she wouldn't have it of me. I'll
pay it down to you on the wedding-day."

Troy paused in secret amazement at Boldwood's wild infatuation. He
carelessly said, "And am I to have anything now?"

"Yes, if you wish to. But I have not much additional money with me.
I did not expect this; but all I have is yours."

Boldwood, more like a somnambulist than a wakeful man, pulled out the
large canvas bag he carried by way of a purse, and searched it.

"I have twenty-one pounds more with me," he said. "Two notes and a
sovereign. But before I leave you I must have a paper signed--"

"Pay me the money, and we'll go straight to her parlour, and make any
arrangement you please to secure my compliance with your wishes. But
she must know nothing of this cash business."

"Nothing, nothing," said Boldwood, hastily. "Here is the sum, and
if you'll come to my house we'll write out the agreement for the
remainder, and the terms also."

"First we'll call upon her."

"But why? Come with me to-night, and go with me to-morrow to the
surrogate's."

"But she must be consulted; at any rate informed."

"Very well; go on."

They went up the hill to Bathsheba's house. When they stood at the
entrance, Troy said, "Wait here a moment." Opening the door, he
glided inside, leaving the door ajar.

Boldwood waited. In two minutes a light appeared in the passage.
Boldwood then saw that the chain had been fastened across the door.
Troy appeared inside, carrying a bedroom candlestick.

"What, did you think I should break in?" said Boldwood,
contemptuously.

"Oh, no, it is merely my humour to secure things. Will you read this
a moment? I'll hold the light."

Troy handed a folded newspaper through the slit between door and
doorpost, and put the candle close. "That's the paragraph," he said,
placing his finger on a line.

Boldwood looked and read--

MARRIAGES.

On the 17th inst., at St. Ambrose's Church, Bath, by the
Rev. G. Mincing, B.A., Francis Troy, only son of the late
Edward Troy, Esq., M.D., of Weatherbury, and sergeant with
Dragoon Guards, to Bathsheba, only surviving daughter of
th