the coach makes up on me."

"Which way?"

"The way ye are going."

"Then shall we walk together to the top o' town?"

"If ye'll wait a minute," said the Scotchman.

In a few minutes the latter emerged, bag in hand. Henchard looked at the
bag as at an enemy. It showed there was no mistake about the young man's
departure. "Ah, my lad," he said, "you should have been a wise man, and
have stayed with me."

"Yes, yes--it might have been wiser," said Donald, looking
microscopically at the houses that were furthest off. "It is only
telling ye the truth when I say my plans are vague."

They had by this time passed on from the precincts of the inn,
and Elizabeth-Jane heard no more. She saw that they continued
in conversation, Henchard turning to the other occasionally, and
emphasizing some remark with a gesture. Thus they passed the King's Arms
Hotel, the Market House, St. Peter's churchyard wall, ascending to the
upper end of the long street till they were small as two grains of corn;
when they bent suddenly to the right into the Bristol Road, and were out
of view.

"He was a good man--and he's gone," she said to herself. "I was nothing
to him, and there was no reason why he should have wished me good-bye."