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to face death； exultation； that she was still in life—that she might
yet know light and warmth again。 She walked backwards and
forwards to warm herself； beginning to discern something of the
objects around her； as her eyes became accustomed to the night—
the darker line of the hedge； the rapid motion of some living
creature—perhaps a field…mouse—rushing across the grass。 She
no longer felt as if the darkness hedged her in。 She thought she
could walk back across the field； and get over the stile； and then；
in the very next field； she thought she remembered there was a
hovel of furze near a sheepfold。 If she could get into that hovel； she
would be warmer。 She could pass the night there； for that was
what Alick did at Hayslope in lambing…time。 The thought of this
hovel brought the energy of a new hope。 She took up her basket
and walked across the field； but it was some time before she got in
the right direction for the stile。 The exercise and the occupation of
finding the stile were a stimulus to her； however； and lightened
the horror of the darkness and solitude。 There were sheep in the
next field； and she startled a group as she set down her basket and
got over the stile； and the sound of their movement comforted her；
for it assured her that her impression was right—this was the field
where she had seen the hovel； for it was the field where the sheep
were。 Right on along the path； and she would get to it。 She
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reached the opposite gate； and felt her way along its rails and the
rails of the sheep…fold； till her hand encountered the pricking of
the gorsy wall。 Delicious sensation！ She had found the shelter。 She
groped her way； touching the prickly gorse； to the door； and
pushed it open。 It was an ill…smelling close place； but warm； and
there was straw on the ground。 Hetty sank down on the straw with
a sense of escape。 Tears came—she had never shed tears before
since she left Windsor—tears and sobs of hysterical joy that she
had still hold of life； that she was still on the familiar earth； with
the sheep near her。 The very consciousness of her own limbs was
a delight to her： she turned up her sleeves； and kissed her arms
with the passionate love of life。 Soon warmth and weariness lulled
her in the midst of her sobs； and she fell continually into dozing；
fancying herself at the brink of the pool again—fancying that she
had jumped into the water； and then awaking with a start； and
wondering where she was。 But at last deep dreamless sleep came；
her head； guarded by her bonnet； found a pillow against the gorsy
wall； and the poor soul； driven to and fro between two equal
terrors； found the one relief that was possible to it—the relief of
unconsciousness。
Alas！ That relief seems to end the moment it has begun。 It
seemed to Hetty as if those dozen dreams had only passed into
another dream—that she was in the hovel； and her aunt was
standing over her with a candle in her hand。 She trembled under
her aunt’s glance； and opened her eyes。 There was no candle； but
there was light in the hovel—the light of early morning through
the open door。 And there was a face looking down on her； but it
was an unknown face； belonging to an elderly man in a smock…
frock。
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“Why； what do you do here； young woman？” the man said
roughly。
Hetty trembled still worse under this real fear and shame than
she had done in her momentary dream under her aunt’s glance。
She felt that she was like a beggar already—found sleeping in that
place。 But in spite of her trembling； she was so eager to account to
the man for her presence here； that she found words at once。
“I lost my way；” she said。 “I’m travelling—north’ard； and I got
away from the road into the fields； and was overtaken by the dark。
Will you tell me the way to the nearest village？”
She got up as she was speaking； and put her hands to her
bonnet to adjust it； and then laid hold of her basket。
The man looked at her with a slow bovine gaze； without giving
her any answer； for some seconds。 Then he turned away and
walked towards the door of the hovel； but it was not till he got
there that he stood still； and； turning his shoulder half…round
towards her； said； “Aw； I can show you the way to Norton； if you
like。 But what do you do gettin’ out o’ the highroad？” he added；
with a tone of gruff reproof。 “Y’ull be gettin’ into mischief； if you
dooant mind。”
“Yes；” said Hetty； “I won’t do it again。 I’ll keep in the road； if
you’ll be so good as show me how to get to it。”
“Why dooant you keep where there’s a finger…poasses an’ folks
to ax the way on？” the man said； still more gruffly。 “Anybody ’ud
think you was a wild woman； an’ look at yer。”
Hetty was frightened at this gruff old man； and still more at this
last suggestion that she looked like a wild woman。 As she followed
him out of the hovel she thought she would give him a sixpence for
telling her the way； and then he would not suppose she was wild。
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As he stopped to point out the road to her； she put her hand in her
pocket to get the six…pence ready； and when he was turning away；
without saying good…morning； she held it out to him and said；
“Thank you； will you please to take something for your trouble？”
He looked slowly at the sixpence； and then said； “I want none o’
your money。 You’d better take care on ’t； else you’ll get it stool
from yer； if you go trapesin’ about the fields like a mad woman a…
that’n。”
The man left her without further speech； and Hetty held on her
way。 Another day had risen； and she must wander on。 It was no
use to think of drowning herself—she could not do it； at least while
she had money left to buy food and strength to journey on。 But the
incident on her waking this morning heightened her dread of that
time when her money would be all gone； she would have to sell
her basket and clothes then； and she would really look like a
beggar or a wild woman； as the man had said。 The passionate joy
in life she had felt in the night； after escaping from the brink of the
black cold death in the pool； was gone now。 Life now； by the
morning light； with the impression of that man’s hard wondering
look at her； was as full of dread as death—it was worse； it was a
dread to which she felt chained； from which she shrank and
shrank as she did from the black pool； and yet could find no refuge
from it。
She took out her money from her purse； and looked at it。 She
had still two…and…twenty shillings； it would serve her for many
days more； or it would help her to get on faster to Stonyshire；
within reach of Dinah。 The thought of Dinah urged itself more
strongly now； since the experience of the night had driven her
shuddering imagination away from the pool。 If it had been only
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going to Dinah—if nobody besides Dinah would ever know—Hetty
could have made up her mind to go to her。 The soft voice； the
pitying eyes； would have drawn her。 But afterwards the other
people must know； and she could no