`How late you are,' she continued tenderly. `Did you come by the carrier? I listened and heard his wheels entering the village, but it was some time ago, and I had almost given you up, Frank.'

`I was sure to come,' said Frank. `You knew I should, did you not?'

`Well, I thought you would,' she said playfully; `and, Frank, it is so lucky! There's not a soul in my house but me tonight. I've packed them all off, so nobody on earth will know of your visit to your lady's bower. Liddy wanted to go to her grandfather's to tell him about her holiday, and I said she might stay with them till to-morrow - when you'll be gone again.'

`Capital,' said Troy. `But, dear me, I had better go back for my bag, because my slippers and brush and comb are in it; you run home whilst I fetch it, and I'll promise to be in your parlour in ten minutes.

`Yes.' She turned and tripped up the hill again.

During the progress of this dialogue there was a nervous twitching of Boldwood's tightly closed lips, and his face became bathed in a clammy dew. He now started forward towards Troy. Troy turned to him and took up the bag.

`Shall I tell her I have come to give her up and cannot marry her?' said the soldier mockingly.

`No, no; wait a minute. I want to say more to you - more to you!' said Boldwood, in a hoarse whisper.

`Now,' said Troy, `you see my dilemma. Perhaps I am a bad man - the victim of my impulses - led away to do what I ought to leave undone. I can't, however, marry them both. And I have two reasons for choosing Fanny. First, I like her best upon the whole, and second, you make it worth my while.'

At the same instant Boldwood sprang upon him, and held him by the neck. Troy felt Boldwood's grasp slowly tightening. The move was absolutely unexpected.

`A moment,' he gasped. `You are injuring her you love!'

`Well, what do you mean?' said the farmer. `Give me breath,' said Troy.

Boldwood loosened his hand, saying, `By Heaven, I've a mind to kill you!'

`And ruin her.'

`Save her.'

`Oh, how can she be saved now, unless I marry her?'

Boldwood groaned. He reluctantly released the soldier, and flung him back against the hedge. `Devil, you torture me!' said he.

Troy rebounded like a ball, and was about to make a dash at the farmer; but he checked himself, saying lightly--

`It is not worth while to measure my strength with you. Indeed it is a barbarous way of settling a quarrel. I shall shortly leave the army because of the same conviction. Now after that revelation of how the land lies with Bathsheba, 'twould be a mistake to kill me, would it not?'

`'Twould be a mistake to kill you,' repeated Boldwood, mechanically, with a bowed head.

`Better kill yourself.'

`Far better.'