On this account the irregularities of the path were not visible, and Wildeve occasionally stumbled; whilst Eustacia found it necessary to perform some graceful feats of balancing whenever a small tuft of heather or root of furze protruded itself through the grass of the narrow track and entangled her feet.  At these junctures in her progress a hand was invariably stretched forward to steady her, holding her firmly until smooth ground was again reached, when the hand was again withdrawn to a respectful distance.

They performed the journey for the most part in silence, and drew near to Throope Corner, a few hundred yards from which a short path branched away to Eustacia’s house.  By degrees they discerned coming towards them a pair of human figures, apparently of the male sex.

When they came a little nearer Eustacia broke the silence by saying, “One of those men is my husband.  He promised to come to meet me.”

“And the other is my greatest enemy,” said Wildeve.

“It looks like Diggory Venn.”

“That is the man.”

“It is an awkward meeting,” said she; “but such is my fortune.  He knows too much about me, unless he could know more, and so prove to himself that what he now knows counts for nothing.  Well, let it be:  you must deliver me up to them.”

“You will think twice before you direct me to do that.  Here is a man who has not forgotten an item in our meetings at Rainbarrow:  he is in company with your husband.  Which of them, seeing us together here, will believe that our meeting and dancing at the gipsy-party was by chance?”

“Very well,” she whispered gloomily.  “Leave me before they come up.”

Wildeve bade her a tender farewell, and plunged across the fern and furze, Eustacia slowly walking on.  In two or three minutes she met her husband and his companion.

“My journey ends here for tonight, reddleman,” said Yeobright as soon as he perceived her.  “I turn back with this lady.  Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Yeobright,” said Venn.  “I hope to see you better soon.”

The moonlight shone directly upon Venn’s face as he spoke, and revealed all its lines to Eustacia.  He was looking suspiciously at her.  That Venn’s keen eye had discerned what Yeobright’s feeble vision had not—­a man in the act of withdrawing from Eustacia’s side—­was within the limits of the probable.

If Eustacia had been able to follow the reddleman she would soon have found striking confirmation of her thought.  No sooner had Clym given her his arm and led her off the scene than the reddleman turned back from the beaten track towards East Egdon, whither he had been strolling merely to accompany Clym in his walk, Diggory’s van being again in the neighbourhood.  Stretching out his long legs, he crossed the pathless portion of the heath somewhat in the direction which Wildeve had taken.  Only a man accustomed to nocturnal rambles could at this hour have descended those shaggy