’His unlawful purpose in being behind the house led him to conceal his adventure.  No suspicion of the truth entered his mind till the railway-porter had startled everybody by his strange announcement.  Then he asked himself, had the horrifying sounds of that night been really an enactment in the flesh between me and my wife?

’The words of the other man were: 

’"Why don’t he try to find her if she’s alive?”

’"True,” said the first.  “Well, I don’t forget what I heard, and if she don’t turn up alive my mind will be as sure as a Bible upon her murder, and the parson shall know it, though I do get six months on the treadmill for being where I was.”

’"And if she should turn up alive?”

’"Then I shall know that I am wrong, and believing myself a fool as well as a rogue, hold my tongue.”

’I glided out of the house in a cold sweat.  The only pressure in heaven or earth which could have forced me to renounce Cytherea was now put upon me—­the dread of a death upon the gallows.

’I sat all that night weaving strategy of various kinds.  The only effectual remedy for my hazardous standing that I could see was a simple one.  It was to substitute another woman for my wife before the suspicions of that one easily-hoodwinked man extended further.

’The only difficulty was to find a practicable substitute.

’The one woman at all available for the purpose was a friendless, innocent creature, named Anne Seaway, whom I had known in my youth, and who had for some time been the housekeeper of a lady in London.  On account of this lady’s sudden death, Anne stood in rather a precarious position, as regarded her future subsistence.  She was not the best kind of woman for the scheme; but there was no alternative.  One quality of hers was valuable; she was not a talker.  I went to London the very next day, called at the Hoxton lodging of my wife (the only place at which she had been known as Mrs. Manston), and found that no great difficulties stood in the way of a personation.  And thus favouring circumstances determined my course.  I visited Anne Seaway, made love to her, and propounded my plan.

* * * * *

’We lived quietly enough until the Sunday before my apprehension.  Anne came home from church that morning, and told me of the suspicious way in which a young man had looked at her there.  Nothing could be done beyond waiting the issue of events.  Then the letter came from Raunham.  For the first time in my life I was half indifferent as to what fate awaited me.  During the succeeding day I thought once or twice of running away, but could not quite make up my mind.  At any rate it would be best to bury the body of my wife, I thought, for the oven might be opened at any time.  I went to Casterbridge and made some arrangements.  In the evening Miss Aldclyffe (who is united to me by a common secret which I have no right or wish to disclose) came to my house, and alarmed me still more.  She said that she could tell by Mr. Raunham’s manner that evening, that he kept back from her a suspicion of more importance even than the one he spoke of, and that strangers were in his house even then.