The Trumpet-Major by Thomas Hardy

In parting from John, who accompanied him to the quay, Bob had said: / 'Now, Jack, these be my last words to you: I give her up. I go away on / purpose, and I shall be away a long time. If in that time she should / list over towards ye ever so little, mind you take her. You have more / right to her than I. You chose her when my mind was elsewhere, and you / best deserve her; for I have never known you forget one woman, while I've / forgot a dozen. Take her then, if she will come, and God bless both of / ye.'

Another person besides John saw Bob go. That was Derriman, who was / standing by a bollard a little further up the quay. He did not repress / his satisfaction at the sight. John looked towards him with an open gaze / of contempt; for the cuffs administered to the yeoman at the inn had not, / so far as the trumpet-major was aware, produced any desire to avenge that / insult, John being, of course, quite ignorant that Festus had erroneously / retaliated upon Bob, in his peculiar though scarcely soldierly way. / Finding that he did not even now approach him, John went on his way, and / thought over his intention of preserving intact the love between Anne and / his brother.

He was surprised when he next went to the mill to find how glad they all / were to see him. From the moment of Bob's return to the bosom of the / deep Anne had had no existence on land; people might have looked at her / human body and said she had flitted thence. The sea and all that / belonged to the sea was her daily thought and her nightly dream. She had / the whole two-and-thirty winds under her eye, each passing gale that / ushered in returning autumn being mentally registered; and she acquired a / precise knowledge of the direction in which Portsmouth, Brest, Ferrol, / Cadiz, and other such likely places lay. Instead of saying her own / familiar prayers at night she substituted, with some confusion of / thought, the Forms of Prayer to be used at sea. John at once noticed her / lorn, abstracted looks, pitied her, -- how much he pitied her! -- and asked / when they were alone if there was anything he could do.

'There are two things,' she said, with almost childish eagerness in her / tired eyes.

'They shall be done.'

'The first is to find out if Captain Hardy has gone back to his ship; and / the other is -- O if you will do it, John! -- to get me newspapers whenever / possible.'

After this duologue John was absent for a space of three hours, and they / thought he had gone back to barracks. He entered, however, at the end of / that time, took off his forage-cap, and wiped his forehead.

'You look tired, John,' said his father.

'O no. ' He went through the house till he had found Anne Garland.

'I have only done one of those things,' he said to her.

'What, already! I didn't hope for or mean to-day.'

'Captain Hardy is gone from Pos'ham. He left some days ago. We shall / soon hear that the fleet has sailed.'

'You have been all the way to Pos'ham on purpose? How good of you!'

'Well, I was anxious to know myself when Bob is likely to leave. I / expect now that we shall soon hear from him.'

Two days later he came again. He brought a newspaper, and what was / better, a letter for Anne, franked by the first lieutenant of the / Victory.

'Then he's aboard her,' said Anne, as she eagerly took the letter.

It was short, but as much as she could expect in the circumstances, and / informed them that the captain had been as good as his word, and had / gratified Bob's earnest wish to serve under him. The ship, with Admiral / Lord Nelson on board, and accompanied by the frigate Euryalus, was to / sail in two days for Plymouth, where they would be joined by others, and / thence proceed to the coast of Spain.

Anne lay awake that night thinking of the Victory, and of those who / floated in her. To the best of Anne's calculation that ship of war / would, during the next twenty-four hours, pass within a few miles of / where she herself then lay. Next to seeing Bob, the thing that would / give her more pleasure than any other in the world was to see the vessel / that contained him -- his floating city, his sole dependence in battle and / storm -- upon whose safety from winds and enemies hung all her hope.

The morrow was market-day at the seaport, and in this she saw her / opportunity. A carrier went from Overcombe at six o'clock thither, and / having to do a little shopping for herself she gave it as a reason for / her intended day's absence, and took a place in the van. When she / reached the town it was still early morning, but the borough was already / in the zenith of its daily bustle and show. The King was always out-of- / doors by six o'clock, and such cock-crow hours at Gloucester Lodge / produced an equally forward stir among the population. She alighted, and / passed down the esplanade, as fully thronged by persons of fashion at / this time of mist and level sunlight as a watering-place in the present / day is at four in the afternoon. Dashing bucks and beaux in cocked hats, / black feathers, ruffles, and frills, stared at her as she hurried along; / the beach was swarming with bathing women, wearing waistbands that bore / the national refrain, 'God save the King,' in gilt letters; the shops / were all open, and Sergeant Stanner, with his sword-stuck bank-notes and / heroic gaze, was beating up at two guineas and a crown, the crown to / drink his Majesty's health.