On this occasion Venn had arrived on Egdon Heath only to cross to the other side:  he had no further connection with the interests of the Yeobright family, and he had a business of his own to attend to.  Yet he suddenly began to feel himself drifting into the old track of manoeuvring on Thomasin’s account.

He sat in his van and considered.  From Thomasin’s words and manner he had plainly gathered that Wildeve neglected her.  For whom could he neglect her if not for Eustacia?  Yet it was scarcely credible that things had come to such a head as to indicate that Eustacia systematically encouraged him.  Venn resolved to reconnoitre somewhat carefully the lonely road which led along the vale from Wildeve’s dwelling to Clym’s house at Alderworth.

At this time, as had been seen, Wildeve was quite innocent of any predetermined act of intrigue, and except at the dance on the green he had not once met Eustacia since her marriage.  But that the spirit of intrigue was in him had been shown by a recent romantic habit of his:  a habit of going out after dark and strolling towards Alderworth, there looking at the moon and stars, looking at Eustacia’s house, and walking back at leisure.

Accordingly, when watching on the night after the festival, the reddleman saw him ascend by the little path, lean over the front gate of Clym’s garden, sigh, and turn to go back again.  It was plain that Wildeve’s intrigue was rather ideal than real.  Venn retreated before him down the hill to a place where the path was merely a deep groove between the heather; here he mysteriously bent over the ground for a few minutes, and retired.  When Wildeve came on to that spot his ankle was caught by something, and he fell headlong.

As soon as he had recovered the power of respiration he sat up and listened.  There was not a sound in the gloom beyond the spiritless stir of the summer wind.  Feeling about for the obstacle which had flung him down, he discovered that two tufts of heath had been tied together across the path, forming a loop, which to a traveller was certain overthrow.  Wildeve pulled off the string that bound them, and went on with tolerable quickness.  On reaching home he found the cord to be of a reddish colour.  It was just what he had expected.

Although his weaknesses were not specially those akin to physical fear, the species of coup-de-Jarnac from one he knew too well troubled the mind of Wildeve.  But his movements were unaltered thereby.  A night or two later he again went along the vale to Alderworth, taking the precaution of keeping out of any path.  The sense that he was watched, that craft was employed to circumvent his errant tastes, added piquancy to a journey so entirely sentimental, so long as the danger was of no fearful sort.  He imagined that Venn and Mrs. Yeobright were in league, and felt that there was a certain legitimacy in combating such a coalition.