"O no, no, Tess," he said blandly. "I can make full allowance for
this. Yet you most unjustly forget one thing, that I would have
married you if you had not put it out of my power to do so. Did I
not ask you flatly to be my wife--hey? Answer me."
"You did."
"And you cannot be. But remember one thing!" His voice hardened
as his temper got the better of him with the recollection of his
sincerity in asking her and her present ingratitude, and he stepped
across to her side and held her by the shoulders, so that she shook
under his grasp. "Remember, my lady, I was your master once! I will
be your master again. If you are any man's wife you are mine!"
The threshers now began to stir below. "So much for our quarrel," he said, letting her go. "Now I shall
leave you, and shall come again for your answer during the afternoon.
You don't know me yet! But I know you."
She had not spoken again, remaining as if stunned. D'Urberville
retreated over the sheaves, and descended the ladder, while the
workers below rose and stretched their arms, and shook down the beer
they had drunk. Then the threshing-machine started afresh; and amid
the renewed rustle of the straw Tess resumed her position by the
buzzing drum as one in a dream, untying sheaf after sheaf in endless
succession.
XLVIII
In the afternoon the farmer made it known that the rick was to be
finished that night, since there was a moon by which they could see
to work, and the man with the engine was engaged for another farm on
the morrow. Hence the twanging and humming and rustling proceeded
with even less intermission than usual.
It was not till "nammet"-time, about three o-clock, that Tess raised
her eyes and gave a momentary glance round. She felt but little
surprise at seeing that Alec d'Urberville had come back, and was
standing under the hedge by the gate. He had seen her lift her
eyes, and waved his hand urbanely to her, while he blew her a kiss.
It meant that their quarrel was over. Tess looked down again, and
carefully abstained from gazing in that direction. T
hus the afternoon dragged on. The wheat-rick shrank lower, and the
straw-rick grew higher, and the corn-sacks were carted away. At six
o'clock the wheat-rick was about shoulder-high from the ground. But
the unthreshed sheaves remaining untouched seemed countless still,
notwithstanding the enormous numbers that had been gulped down by
the insatiable swallower, fed by the man and Tess, through whose two
young hands the greater part of them had passed. And the immense
stack of straw where in the morning there had been nothing, appeared
as the faeces of the same buzzing red glutton. From the west sky
a wrathful shine--all that wild March could afford in the way of
sunset--had burst forth after the cloudy day, flooding the tired and
sticky faces of the threshers, and dyeing them with a coppery light,
as also the flapping garments of the women, which clung to them like
dull flames. A panting ache ran through the rick.