During the small hours of the next morning, while it was still dark, dwellers near the highways were conscious of a disturbance of their night's rest by rumbling noises, intermittently continuing till daylight - noises as certain to recur in this particular first week of the month as the voice of the cuckoo in the third week of the same. They were the preliminaries of the general removal, the passing of the empty waggons and teams to fetch the goods of the migrating families; for it was always by the vehicle of the farmer who required his services that the hired man was conveyed to his destination. That this might be accomplished within the day was the explanation of the reverberation occurring so soon after midnight, the aim of the carters being to reach the door of the outgoing households by six o'clock, when the loading of their movables at once began.

But to Tess and her mother's household no such anxious farmer sent his team. They were only women; they were not regular labourers; they were not particularly required anywhere; hence they had to hire a waggon at their own expense, and got nothing sent gratuitously.

It was a relief to Tess, when she looked out of the window that morning, to find that though the weather was windy and louring, it did not rain, and that the waggon had come. A wet Lady-Day was a spectre which removing families never forgot; damp furniture, damp bedding, damp clothing accompanied it, and left a train of ills.

Her mother, 'Liza-Lu, and Abraham were also awake, but the younger children were let sleep on. The four breakfasted by the thin light, and the `house-ridding' was taken in hand.

It proceeded with some cheerfulness, a friendly neighbour or two assisting. When the large articles of furniture had been packed in position a circular nest was made of the beds and bedding, in which Joan Durbeyfield and the young children were to sit through the journey. After loading there was a long delay before the horses were brought, these having been unharnessed during the ridding; but at length, about two o'clock, the whole was under way, the cooking-pot swinging from the axle of the waggon, Mrs Durbeyfield and family at the top, the matron having in her lap, to prevent injury to its works, the head of the clock, which, at any exceptional lurch of the waggon, struck one, or one-and-a-half, in hurt tones. Tess and the next eldest girl walked alongside till they were out of the village.

They had called on a few neighbours that morning and the previous evening, and some came to see them off, all wishing them well, though, in their secret hearts, hardly expecting welfare possible to such a family, harmless as the Durbeyfields were to all except themselves. Soon the equipage began to ascend to higher ground, and the wind grew keener with the change of level and soil.

The day being the sixth of April, the Durbeyfield waggon met many other waggons with families on the summit of the load, which was built on a wellnigh unvarying principle, as peculiar, probably, to the rural labourer as the hexagon to the bee. The groundwork of the arrangement was the family dresser, which, with its shining handles, and finger-marks, and domestic evidences thick upon it, stood importantly in front, over the tails of the shaft-horses, in its erect and natural position, like some Ark of the Covenant that they were bound to carry reverently.

Some of the households were lively, some mournful; some were stopping at the doors of wayside inns; where, in due time, the Durbeyfield menagerie also drew up to bait horses and refresh the travellers.

During the halt Tess's eyes fell upon a three-pint blue mug, which was ascending and descending through the air to and from the feminine section of a household, sitting on the summit of a load that had also drawn up at a little distance from the same inn. She followed one of the mug's journeys upward, and perceived it to be clasped by hands whose owner she well knew. Tess went towards the waggon.

`Marian and Izz!' she cried to the girls, for it was they, sitting with the moving family at whose house they had lodged. `Are you house-ridding to-day, like everybody else?'

They were, they said. It had been too rough a life for them at Flintcomb-Ash, and they had come away, almost without notice, leaving Groby to prosecute them if he chose. They told Tess their destination, and Tess told them hers.

Marian leant over the load, and lowered her voice. `Do you know that the gentleman who follows 'ee - you'll guess who I mean - came to ask for 'ee at Flintcomb after you had gone? We didn't tell'n where you was, knowing you wouldn't wish to see him.'

`Ah - but I did see him!' Tess murmured. `He found me.'

`And do he know where you be going?'

`I think so.'

`Husband come back?'

`No.'

She bade her acquaintance good-bye - for the respective carters had now come out from the inn - and the two waggons resumed their journey in opposite directions; the vehiclewhereon sat Marian, Izz, and the ploughman's family with whom they had thrown in their lot, being brightly painted, and drawn by three powerful horses with shining brass ornaments on their harness; while the waggon on which Mrs Durbeyfield and her family rode was a creaking erection that would scarcely bear the weight of the superincumbent load; one which had known no paint since it was made, and drawn by two horses only. The contrast well marked the difference between being fetched by a thriving farmer and conveying oneself whither no hirer waited one's coming.

The distance was great - too great for a day's journey - and it was with the utmost difficulty that the horses performed it. Though they had started so early it was quite late in the afternoon when they turned the flank of an eminence which formed part of the upland called Greenhill. While the horses stood to stale and breathe themselves Tess looked around. Under the hill, and just ahead of them, was the half-dead townlet of their pilgrimage, Kingsbere, where lay those ancestors of whom her father had spoken and sung to painfulness: Kingsbere, the spot of all spots in the world which could be considered the d'Urbervilles' home, since they had resided there for full five hundred years.

A man could be seen advancing from the outskirts towards them, and when he beheld the nature of their waggon-load he quickened his steps.

`You be the woman they call Mrs Durbeyfield, I reckon?' he said to Tess's mother, who had descended to walk the remainder of the way.

She nodded. `Though widow of the late Sir John d'Urberville, poor nobleman, if I cared for my rights; and returning to the domain of his forefathers.'

`Oh? Well, I know nothing about that; but if you be Mrs Durbeyfield, I am sent to tell 'ee that the rooms you wanted be let. We didn't know you was coming till we got your letter this morning - when 'twas too late. But no doubt you can get other lodgings somewhere.'

The man had noticed the face of Tess, which had become ash-pale at his intelligence. Her mother looked hopelessly at fault. `What shall we do now, Tess?' she said bitterly. `Here's a welcome to your ancestors' lands! However, let's try further.'

They moved on into the town, and tried with all their might, Tess remaining with the waggon to take care of the children whilst her mother and 'Liza-Lu made inquiries. At the last return of Joan to the vehicle, an hour later, when her search for accommodation had still been fruitless, the driver of the waggon said the goods must be unloaded, as the horses were half-dead, and he was bound to return part of the way at least that night.

`Very well - unload it here,' said Joan recklessly. `I'll get shelter somewhere.'

The waggon had drawn up under the churchyard wall, in a spot screened from view, and the driver, nothing loth, soon hauled down the poor heap of household goods. This done she paid him, reducing herself to almost her last shilling thereby, and he moved off and left them, only too glad to get out of further dealings with such a family. It was a dry night, and he guessed that they would come to no harm.

Tess gazed desperately at the pile of furniture. The cold sunlight of this spring evening peered invidiously upon the crocks and kettles, upon the bunches of dried herbs shivering in the breeze, upon the brass handles of the dresser, upon the wicker-cradle they had all been rocked in, and upon the well-rubbed clock-case all of which gave out the reproachful gleam of indoor articles abandoned to the vicissitudes of a roofless exposure for which they were never made. Round about were deparked hills and slopes - now cut up into little paddocks - and the green foundations that showed where the d'Urberville mansion once had stood; also an outlying stretch of Egdon Heath that had always belonged to the estate. Hard by, the aisle of the church called the d'Urberville Aisle looked on imperturbably.

`Isn't your family vault your own freehold?' said Tess's mother, as she returned from a reconnoitre of the church and graveyard. Why of course 'tis, and that's where we will camp, girls, till the place of your ancestors finds us a roof! Now Tess and 'Liza and Abraham, you help me. We'll make a nest for these children, and then we'll have another look round.'

Tess listlessly lent a hand, and in a quarter of an hour the old four-post bedstead was dissociated from the heap of goods, and erected under the south wall of the church, the part of the building known as the d'Urberville Aisle, beneath which the huge vaults lay. Over the tester of the bedstead was a beautifully traceried window, of many lights, its date being the fifteenth century. It was called the d'Urberville Window, and in the upper part could be discerned heraldic emblems like those on Durbeyfield's old seal and spoon.

Joan drew the curtains round the bed so as to make an excellent tent of it, and put the smaller children inside. `If it comes to the worst we can sleep there too, for one night,'she said. `But let us try further on, and get something for the dears to eat! O, Tess, what's the use of your playing at marrying gentlemen, if it leaves us like this!'

Accompanied by 'Liza-Lu and the boy she again ascended the little lane which secluded the church from the townlet. As soon as they got into the street they beheld a man on horseback gazing up and down. `Ah - I'm looking for you!' he said, riding up to them. `This is indeed a family gathering on the historic spot!'

It was Alec d'Urberville. `Where is Tess?' he asked.

Personally Joan had no liking for Alec. She cursorily signified the direction of the church, and went on, d'Urberville saying that he would see them again, in case they should be still unsuccessful in their search for shelter, of which he had just heard. When they had gone d'Urberville rode to the inn, and shortly after came out on foot.

In the interim Tess, left with the children inside the bedstead, remained talking with them awhile, till, seeing that no more could be done to make them comfortable just then, she walked about the churchyard, now beginning to be embrowned by the shades of nightfall. The door of the church was unfastened, and she entered it for the first time in her life.

Within the window under which the bedstead stood were the tombs of the family, covering in their dates several centuries. They were canopied, altar-shaped, and plain; their carvings being defaced and broken; their brasses torn from the matrices, the rivet-holes remaining like martin-holes in a sand-cliff. Of all the reminders that she had ever received that her people were sociallyextinct there was none so forcible as this spoliation.

She drew near to a dark stone on which was inscribed:

Ostium sepalchri antiquae familiae d'Urberbille.

Tess did not read Church-Latin like a Cardinal, but she knew that this was the door of her ancestral sepulchre, and that the tall knights of whom her father had chanted in his cups lay inside.

She musingly turned to withdraw, passing near an altar-tomb, the oldest of them all, on which was a recumbent figure. In the dusk she had not noticed it before, and would hardly have noticed it now but for an odd fancy that the effigy moved. As soon as she drew close to it she discovered all in a moment that the figure was a living person; and the shock to her sense of not having been alone was so violent that she was quite overcome, and sank down nigh to fainting, not however till she had recognized Alec d'Urberville in the form.

He leapt off the slab and supported her.

`I saw you come in,' he said smiling, `and got up there not to interrupt your meditations. A family gathering, is it not, with these old fellows under us here? Listen.'

He stamped with his heel heavily on the floor; whereupon there arose a hollow echo from below.

`That shook them a bit, I'll warrant!' he continued. `And you thought I was the mere stone reproduction of one of them. But no. The old order changeth. The little finger of the sham d'Urberville can do more for you than the whole dynasty of the real underneath... . Now command me. What shall I do?'

`Go away!' she murmured.

`I will - I'll look for your mother,' said he blandly. But in passing her he whispered: `Mind this; you'll be civil yet!'

When he was gone she bent down upon the entrance to the vaults, and said--

`Why am I on the wrong side of this door!'

In the meantime Marian and Izz Huett had journeyed onward with the chattels of the ploughman in the direction of their land of Canaan - the Egypt of some other family who had left it only that morning. But the girls did not for a long time think of where they were going. Their talk was of Angel Clare and Tess, and Tess's persistent lover, whose connection with her previous history they had partly heard and partly guessed ere this.

`'Tisn't as though she had never known him afore,' said Marian. `His having won her once makes all the difference in the world. 'Twould be a thousand pities if he were to tole her away again. Mr Clare can never be anything to us, Izz; and why should we grudge him to her, and not try to mend this quarrel? If he could only know what straits she's put to, and what's hovering round, he might come to take care of his own.'

`Could we let him know?'

They thought of this all the way to their destination; but the bustle of re-establishment in their new place took up all their attention then. But when they were settled, a month later, they heard of Clare's approaching return, though they had learnt nothing more of Tess. Upon that, agitated anew by their attachment to him, yet honourably disposed to her, Marian uncorked the penny ink-bottle they shared, and a few lines were concocted between the two girls.

HONOUR'D SIR - Look to your Wife if you do love her as much as she do love you. For she is sore put to by an Enemy in the shape of a Friend. Sir, there is one near her who ought to be Away. A woman should not be try'd beyond her Strength, and continual dropping will wear away a Stone - ay, more - a Diamond.

FROM TWO WELL-WISHERS.

This they addressed to Angel Clare at the only place they had ever heard him to be connected with, Emminster Vicarage; after which they continued in a mood of emotional exaltation at their own generosity, which made them sing in hysterical snatches and weep at the same time.

第二天凌晨两三点钟的时候，天仍然一片漆黑，住在大道旁边的人就听到了马车的辘辘声，从睡梦中给吵醒了，马车的辘辘声时断时续，一直持续到天亮--每年这个月的第一个礼拜是一个特殊的礼拜，每年在这个时候都要听到马车的吵闹声，就好像在这个月的第三个礼拜一定会听到杜鹃的叫声一样。这些声音都是大搬家的前奏，是那些为迁走的家庭搬运物品的空马车和搬家队走过去的声音；因为被雇用的人通常都是由雇主派车把他们接到目的地。由于搬家的事要在一天内搬完，所以半夜刚过马车的辘辘声就响了起来，为的是要在六点钟把马车赶到搬家人的门口，一到那儿，他们就立即动手把要搬走的东西装上车。

　　但是苔丝和她母亲的家却没有热心的农场主为她们派来马车和搬家的人。她们都是妇道人家，不是正式的庄稼汉，也没有特别需要她们的地方，因此不能免费运送任何东西，不得不自己花钱雇马车。

　　苔丝向窗外看去，只见那天早晨天色阴沉沉的，刮着风，但是没有下雨，雇的马车也来了，她这才放下心来。圣母节这天下雨是搬家的人永远也忘不了的鬼天气；天一下雨，家具淋湿了，被褥淋湿了，衣服也淋湿了，最后弄得许多人生病。苔丝的母亲、丽莎·露和亚伯拉罕已经醒了，不过更小的几个孩子仍然睡着，没有人去叫醒他们。醒来的四个人在暗淡的灯光下吃了早饭，就动手往车上装东西。

　　装马车的时候有一两个友善的邻居过来帮忙，气氛还有几分高兴。几件大的家具放好以后，又用床和被褥在车上弄了一个圆形的窝儿，预备在路上让琼·德北菲尔德和几个小孩子坐。

　　东西装上车以后，她们又等了许久，拉车的马才备好了牵过来，因为马车到了以后，马就从车上卸下来了；一直耽误到两点钟，人马才一起上路；做饭的锅吊在车轴上，德北菲尔德太太和孩子们坐在马车顶上，把钟放在腿上抱着，防止马车在猛烈颠簸时把机件震坏了；马车猛地晃一下，钟就敲一下，或敲一下半。苔丝和妹妹跟在马车旁边走着，一直走出了村子才上车。

　　她们在早上和头天晚上曾经到几户邻居家里告别，这时候他们也前来为她们送行，祝她们走好运，不过在他们秘密的心底里，却没有想到好运会降临在这样一个家庭里，其实德北菲尔德这家人除了对自己而外，对任何人都不会有什么损害。马车不久上了土坡，随着地势的增高，风也随着路面和土壤的变化而变得更加寒冷了。

　　那天是四月六日，德北菲尔德家的马车在路上遇见了许多其它的马车，都是马车上装着家具，家具上坐着全家人；这种装载的方法近来似乎成了不变的原则，大概它的独特性对于农村种庄稼的人就像蜂窠对于蜜蜂一样。装车的基础部分是家里的碗柜，碗柜上有发亮的把手，手指头印儿和沾在上面的厚厚油垢；它按照平常的摆法被竖在车前面重要的位置上，对着拉车的马的尾巴；那个碗柜就像一个约柜①，搬运的时候要恭恭敬敬地才行。

　　

　　①约柜（Ark of the Covenant），指装有十块摩西十戒的石碑的柜子。见《圣经·民数记》第十章及其它章。

　　在这些搬家的人当中，有的快活，有的悲伤，有的停在客栈的门口，到了吃饭的时候，德北菲尔德一家老小也把马车停在一家旅馆的门口，给马喂料，让人吃饭。

　　休息的时候，苔丝的眼睛看见有一辆马车的顶上坐着一群妇女，她们正在从车上到车下地互相传递着一个装三品特酒的大酒杯喝酒；那辆马车和苔丝的马车停在同一个旅馆里，不过距离稍为远一点。苔丝的眼睛随着那只被传来传去的大酒杯看到了车上，发现有一双她熟悉的手把那酒杯接了过去。于是苔丝向那辆马车走过去。

　　"玛丽安！伊茨！"苔丝大声喊，因为车上坐的正是她们两个，她们现在正和她们住的那一家人一起搬迁。"你们今天也搬家，和大家一样是不是？"

　　她们说她们正和大家一样搬家。在燧石山农场生活太苦了，她们几乎没有通知格罗比就走了，如果他愿意，让他到法庭告她们好了。她们告诉了苔丝她们的去处，苔丝也把自己的去处告诉了她们。