Having buttoned the overcoat round her shoulders he plunged into the webs of vapour which by this time formed veils between the trees.  She could hear the rustling of the branches as he ascended the adjoining slope, till his movements were no louder than the hopping of a bird, and finally died away.  With the setting of the moon the pale light lessened, and Tess became invisible as she fell into reverie upon the leaves where he had left her.

In the meantime Alec d’Urberville had pushed on up the slope to clear his genuine doubt as to the quarter of The Chase they were in.  He had, in fact, ridden quite at random for over an hour, taking any turning that came to hand in order to prolong companionship with her, and giving far more attention to Tess’s moonlit person than to any wayside object.  A little rest for the jaded animal being desirable, he did not hasten his search for landmarks.  A clamber over the hill into the adjoining vale brought him to the fence of a highway whose contours he recognized, which settled the question of their whereabouts.  D’Urberville thereupon turned back; but by this time the moon had quite gone down, and partly on account of the fog The Chase was wrapped in thick darkness, although morning was not far off.  He was obliged to advance with outstretched hands to avoid contact with the boughs, and discovered that to hit the exact spot from which he had started was at first entirely beyond him.  Roaming up and down, round and round, he at length heard a slight movement of the horse close at hand; and the sleeve of his overcoat unexpectedly caught his foot.

“Tess!” said d’Urberville.

There was no answer.  The obscurity was now so great that he could see absolutely nothing but a pale nebulousness at his feet, which represented the white muslin figure he had left upon the dead leaves.  Everything else was blackness alike.  D’Urberville stooped; and heard a gentle regular breathing.  He knelt and bent lower, till her breath warmed his face, and in a moment his cheek was in contact with hers.  She was sleeping soundly, and upon her eyelashes there lingered tears.

Darkness and silence ruled everywhere around.  Above them rose the primeval yews and oaks of The Chase, in which there poised gentle roosting birds in their last nap; and about them stole the hopping rabbits and hares.  But, might some say, where was Tess’s guardian angel? where was the providence of her simple faith?  Perhaps, like that other god of whom the ironical Tishbite spoke, he was talking, or he was pursuing, or he was in a journey, or he was sleeping and not to be awaked.