Chapter 1

One evening of late summer, before the nineteenth century had reached one-third of its span, a young man and woman, the latter carrying achild, were approaching the large village of Weydon-Priors, in Upper Wessex, on foot. They were plainly but not ill clad, though the thick hoar ofdust which had accumulated on their shoes and garments from an obviously long journey lent a disadvantageous shabbiness to their appearancejust now.

The man was of fine figure, swarthy, and stern in aspect; and he showed in profile a facial angle so slightly inclined as to be almost perpendicular.He wore a short jacket of brown corduroy, newer than the remainder of his suit, which was a fustian waistcoat with white horn buttons, breechesof the same, tanned leggings, and a straw hat overlaid with black glazed canvas. At his back he carried by a looped strap a rush basket, fromwhich protruded at one end the crutch of a hay-knife, a wimble for hay-bonds being also visible in the aperture. His measured, springless walk wasthe walk of the skilled countryman as distinct from the desultory shamble of the general labourer; while in the turn and plant of each foot therewas, further, a dogged and cynical indifference, personal to himself, showing its presence even in the regularly interchanging fustian folds, now inthe left leg, now in the right, as he paced along.

What was really peculiar, however, in this couple's progress, and would have attracted the attention of any casual observer otherwise disposed tooverlook them, was the perfect silence they preserved. They walked side by side in such a way as to suggest afar off the low, easy, confidentialchat of people full of reciprocity; but on closer view it could be discerned that the man was reading, or pretending to read, a ballad sheet which hekept before his eyes with some difficulty by the hand that was passed through the basket strap. Whether this apparent cause were the real cause,or whether it were an assumed one to escape an intercourse that would have been irksome to him, nobody but himself could have said precisely;but his taciturnity was unbroken, and the woman enjoyed no society whatever from his presence. Virtually she walked the highway alone, save forthe child she bore. Sometimes the man's bent elbow almost touched her shoulder, for she kept as close to his side as was possible without actualcontact; but she seemed to have no idea of taking his arm, nor he of offering it; and far from exhibiting surprise at his ignoring silence, sheappeared to receive it as a natural thing. If any word at all were uttered by the little group, it was an occasional whisper of the woman to the child- a tiny girl in short clothes and blue boots of knitted yarn - and the murmured babble of the child in reply.