Hence to-night the wheat-fields abutting
on the two sides of the square formed by Casterbridge town were animated
by the gathering hands. Their shouts and laughter had reached Henchard
at the Market House, while he stood there waiting, and he had little
doubt from the turn which Farfrae and Lucetta had taken that they were
bound for the spot.
Nearly the whole town had gone into the fields. The Casterbridge
populace still retained the primitive habit of helping one another in
time of need; and thus, though the corn belonged to the farming section
of the little community--that inhabiting the Durnover quarter--the
remainder was no less interested in the labour of getting it home.
Reaching the top of the lane Henchard crossed the shaded avenue on the
walls, slid down the green rampart, and stood amongst the stubble. The
"stitches" or shocks rose like tents about the yellow expanse, those in
the distance becoming lost in the moonlit hazes.
He had entered at a point removed from the scene of immediate
operations; but two others had entered at that place, and he could
see them winding among the shocks. They were paying no regard to the
direction of their walk, whose vague serpentining soon began to
bear down towards Henchard. A meeting promised to be awkward, and he
therefore stepped into the hollow of the nearest shock, and sat down.
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