CHAPTER THREE

Many years later, two people were seen entering the village of Weydon-Priors, just as the Henchards had long ago. They were two women, one much older than the other. The older woman was Susan Henchard, the younger woman, her eighteen-year-old daughter. They were both wearing black, as if a husband or father had recently died.

The fair was still held in the village, however it had become smaller over the years due to recently developed markets in other nearby towns. Much less trade went on there now. Most of the tents were for entertainment and drinks.

"Why have we come to this place?" asked the young daughter.

"This is where Newson and I found each other," the mother answered.

"Yes, I remember you telling me. Oh, my poor father; forever lost at sea."

"We're now searching for a man named Michael Henchard."

"How is he related to us? I'm not sure that I understand?" asked the young woman.

"He was married to someone in the family," the mother replied coldly. "Anyway, the last time I saw him was here at this fair."

"I doubt we'll find him here now. That was a long time ago."

However, at that very moment, Mrs Henchard-Newson caught sight of the same old woman who had served the alcoholic soup to her former husband on that terrible night. She no longer had a proper-looking business. Now, she stood outside serving her soup in cheap, broken bowls. Mrs Henchard-Newson left her daughter's side and approached the old woman.

"I seem to remember you having a tent before," she said.

"Oh yes. That was many years ago," the old woman answered, "But I'm an honest woman and that's bad for business these days. You have to cheat people all the time if you're going to keep a good business going."

"Do you remember a man selling his wife to a sailor in your tent long ago?"

"Lots of things have happened here in the thirty-nine years I've been working," she answered, "But ... now that you mention it ... I do remember a young man in a suit coat, carrying his tools around in a basket. He came back the following year and told me to tell his wife, if she ever came around looking for him, that he could be found in Casterberg ... or Casterbridge. Anyhow, it was Caster-something. I can't remember clearly."

Mrs Henchard-Newson then returned to her daughter. "I got the information I needed. I now know where we must go. It's pretty far. And I don't even know if the man is still living, but we should go and see anyway."

The two women then left the fair and went looking for a place to spend the night.

(end of section)