At this date, and for several years after, there was a hangman to almostevery jail. Gertrude found, on inquiry, that the Casterbridge officialdwelt in a lonely cottage by a deep slow river flowing under the cliff onwhich the prison buildings were situate--the stream being the self-sameone, though she did not know it, which watered the Stickleford andHolmstoke meads lower down in its course.

Having changed her dress, and before she had eaten or drunk--for shecould not take her ease till she had ascertained someparticulars--Gertrude pursued her way by a path along the water-side tothe cottage indicated. Passing thus the outskirts of the jail, shediscerned on the level roof over the gateway three rectangular linesagainst the sky, where the specks had been moving in her distant view;she recognized what the erection was, and passed quickly on. Anotherhundred yards brought her to the executioner's house, which a boy pointedout It stood close to the same stream, and was hard by a weir, the watersof which emitted a steady roar.

While she stood hesitating the door opened, and an old man came forthshading a candle with one hand. Locking the door on the outside, heturned to a flight of wooden steps fixed against the end of the cottage,and began to ascend them, this being evidently the staircase to hisbedroom. Gertrude hastened forward, but by the time she reached the footof the ladder he was at the top. She called to him loudly enough to beheard above the roar of the weir; he looked down and said, 'What d'yewant here?'

'To speak to you a minute.'

The candle-light, such as it was, fell upon her imploring, pale, upturnedface, and Davies (as the hangman was called) backed down the ladder. 'Iwas just going to bed,' he said; '"Early to bed and early to rise," but Idon't mind stopping a minute for such a one as you. Come into house.' Hereopened the door, and preceded her to the room within.

The implements of his daily work, which was that of a jobbing gardener,stood in a corner, and seeing probably that she looked rural, he said,'If you want me to undertake country work I can't come, for I never leaveCasterbridge for gentle nor simple--not I. My real calling is officer ofjustice,' he added formally.

'Yes, yes! That's it. To-morrow!'

'Ah! I thought so. Well, what's the matter about that? 'Tis no use tocome here about the knot--folks do come continually, but I tell 'em oneknot is as merciful as another if ye keep it under the ear. Is theunfortunate man a relation; or, I should say, perhaps' (looking at herdress) 'a person who's been in your employ?'

'No. What time is the execution?'

'The same as usual--twelve o'clock, or as soon after as the London mail-coach gets in. We always wait for that, in case of a reprieve.'

'O--a reprieve--I hope not!' she said involuntarily,

'Well,--hee, hee!--as a matter of business, so do I! But still, if evera young fellow deserved to be let off, this one does; only just turnedeighteen, and only present by chance when the rick was fired. Howsomever,there's not much risk of it, as they are obliged to make an example ofhim, there having been so much destruction of property that way lately.'

'I mean,' she explained, 'that I want to touch him for a charm, a cure ofan affliction, by the advice of a man who has proved the virtue of theremedy.'

'O yes, miss! Now I understand. I've had such people come in pastyears. But it didn't strike me that you looked of a sort to requireblood-turning. What's the complaint? The wrong kind for this, I'll bebound.'

'My arm.' She reluctantly showed the withered skin.

'Ah--'tis all a-scram!' said the hangman, examining it.

'Yes,' said she.

'Well,' he continued, with interest, 'that is the class o' subject, I'mbound to admit! I like the look of the place; it is truly as suitablefor the cure as any I ever saw. 'Twas a knowing-man that sent 'ee,whoever he was.'

'You can contrive for me all that's necessary?' she said breathlessly.

'You should really have gone to the governor of the jail, and your doctorwith 'ee, and given your name and address--that's how it used to be done,if I recollect. Still, perhaps, I can manage it for a trifling fee.'

'O, thank you! I would rather do it this way, as I should like it keptprivate.'

'Lover not to know, eh?'

'No--husband.'

'Aha! Very well. I'll get ee' a touch of the corpse.'

'Where is it now?' she said, shuddering.

'It?--he, you mean; he's living yet. Just inside that little smallwinder up there in the glum.' He signified the jail on the cliff above.

She thought of her husband and her friends. 'Yes, of course,' she said;'and how am I to proceed?'

He took her to the door. 'Now, do you be waiting at the little wicket inthe wall, that you'll find up there in the lane, not later than oneo'clock. I will open it from the inside, as I shan't come home to dinnertill he's cut down. Good-night. Be punctual; and if you don't wantanybody to know 'ee, wear a veil. Ah--once I had such a daughter asyou!'

She went away, and climbed the path above, to assure herself that shewould be able to find the wicket next day. Its outline was soon visibleto her--a narrow opening in the outer wall of the prison precincts. Thesteep was so great that, having reached the wicket, she stopped a momentto breathe; and, looking back upon the water-side cot, saw the hangmanagain ascending his outdoor staircase. He entered the loft or chamber towhich it led, and in a few minutes extinguished his light.

The town clock struck ten, and she returned to the White Hart as she hadcome.