XXXVII
MIDNIGHT came and passed silently, for there was nothing to announce it in the Valley of the Var.
Not long after one o’clock there was a slight creak in the darkened farm-house once the mansion of the D’Urbervilles. Tess, who used the upper chamber, heard it and awoke. It had come from the corner step of the staircase, which, as usual was loosely nailed. She saw the door of her bedroom open, and the figure of her husband crossed the stream of moonlight with a curiously careful tread. He was in his shirt and trousers only, and her first flush of joy died when she perceived that his eyes were fixed in an unnatural stare on vacancy. When he reached the middle of the room he stood still and murmured, in tones of indescribable sadness—
‘Dead! dead! dead!’
239
