The Distracted Preacher by Thomas Hardy

presence, though they said nothing. Lizzy left his side and went to the bottom of the garden, looking over the hedge into the orchard, where the men could be dimly seen bustling about, and apparently hiding the tubs. All was done noiselessly, and without a light; and when it was over they dispersed in different directions, those who had taken their cargoes to the church having already gone off to their homes.
    Lizzy returned to the garden gate, over which Stockdale was still abstractedly leaning. “It is all finished: I am going in-doors now,” she said, gently. “I will leave the door ajar for you.”
    â€œOh no, you needn’t,” said Stockdale; “I am coming too.”
    But before either of them had moved, the faint clatter of horses’ hoofs broke upon the ear, and it seemed to come from the point where the track across the down joined the hard road.
    â€œThey are just too late!” cried Lizzy, exultingly.
    â€œWho?” said Stockdale.
    â€œLatimer, the riding-officer, and some assistant of his. We had better go in-doors.”
    They entered the house, and Lizzy bolted the door. “Please don’t get a light, Mr. Stockdale,” she said.
    â€œOf course I will not,” said he.
    â€œI thought you might be on the side of the King,” said Lizzy, with faintest sarcasm.
    â€œI am,” said Stockdale. “But, Lizzy Newberry, I love you, and you know it perfectly well; and you ought to know, if you do not, what I have suffered in my conscience on your account these last few days!”
    â€œI guess very well,” she said, hurriedly. “Yet I don’t see why. Ah, you are better than I!”
    The trotting of the horses seemed to have again died away, and the pair of listeners touched each other’s fingers in the cold “good-night” of those whom something seriously divided. They were on the landing, but before they had taken three steps apart the tramp of the horsemen suddenly revived, almost close to the house. Lizzy turned to the staircase window, opened the casement about an inch, and put her face close to the aperture. “Yes, one of ’em is Latimer,” she whispered. “He always rides a white horse. One would think it was the last color for a man in that line.”
    Stockdale looked, and saw the white shape of the animal as it passed by; but before the riders had gone another ten yards, Latimer reined in his horse, and said something to his companion which neither Stockdale nor Lizzy could hear. Its drift was, however, soon made evident, for the other man stopped also; and sharply turning the horses’ heads they cautiously retraced their steps. When they were again opposite Mrs. Newberry’s garden, Latimer dismounted, and the man on the dark horse did the same.
    Lizzy and Stockdale, intently listening and observing the proceedings, naturally put their heads as close as possible to the slit formed by the slightly opened casement; and thus it occurred that at last their cheeks came positively into contact. They went on listening, as if they did not know of the singular circumstance which had happened to their faces, and the pressure of each to each rather increased than lessened with the lapse of time.
    They could hear the excisemen sniffing the air like hounds as they paced slowly along. When they reached the spot where the tub had burst, both stopped on the instant.
    â€œAy, ay, ’tis quite strong here,” said the second officer. “Shall we knock at the door?”
    â€œWell, no,” said Latimer. “Maybe this is only a trick to put us off the scent. They wouldn’t kick up this stink anywhere near their hiding-place. I have known such things before.”
    â€œAnyhow, the things, or some of ’em, must have been brought this way,” said the other.
    â€œYes,” said Latimer, musingly. “Unless ’tis all done to tole us the wrong way. I have a mind that we go home for