At the malthouse the men were discussing Bathsheba. ‘How's she getting on without a farm manager？’the old maltster asked the younger men.

‘She can't manage the farm alone，’replied Jacob，‘and she won't listen to our advice. Proud，she is. I've often said it，’

‘You have，Jacob，you have，that's true，’agreed little Joseph Poorgrass.

‘But she's intelligent，’said Billy Smallbury，‘and must have some common sense. ’

‘It seems her old uncle's furniture wasn't good enough for her，’said the maltster‘I hear she's bought new beds，chairs and a piano！If she's a farmer，why does she want a piano？ ’

Just then they heard a heavy footstep¹ outside，and a voice called，‘Neighbours，can I bring a few lambs in there？’

‘Of course，shepherd²，’they all replied.

Gabriel appeared in the doorway，his cheeks red and his healthy face shining. On his shoulders were four half－dead lambs，which he put down carefully，close to the fire.

‘I haven't got a shepherd's hut here，as I used to have at Norcombe，’he explained. ‘These new lambs would die if I couldn't keep them warm for a while. It's very kind of you，maltster，to let me bring them in here. ’

‘We've been talking of the mistress³，and her strange behaviour，shepherd，’said the maltster.

‘What have you been saying about her？’asked Gabriel sharply，turning to the others. ‘I suppose you've been speak- ing against her？’he added angrily to Joseph Poorgrass.

‘No，no，not a word，’said Joseph，trembling and blushing⁴ with terror⁵.

‘well，look here，neighbours. ’Gabriel，although normally⁶ one of the quietest and most gentle men on earth，had sudden－ly become aggressive. ‘The first man I hear saying anything bad about our mistress will receive this in his face，’and he

分享到：