CHAPTER SIX

Later, after hearing her neighbor close the door to his room and walk downstairs, Elizabeth immediately took the Scotsman's dishes back down to the kitchen. She then hid herself behind a screen and watched the room full of drinkers.

Mr Farfrae had sat down among them, and after much encouragement, sang a song for his fellow drinkers. It was a sad Scottish song about wanting to return to his homeland. The Scotsman sang from his heart and made the entire room go silent. They were not used to so much feeling in a song. When he finished, applause filled the room, along with cheers for him to sing more. The Englishmen were amazed by the amount of love this man had for his own country.

Then, at the request of the ladies, Mr Farfrae sang a couple of lighter, happier songs. He sang them beautifully, and by the time he had finished, the whole bar had grown to like the young Scotsman.

"Will you be staying in Casterbridge for long?" asked someone.

"No, I'm just passing through, actually. I'm on my way to America!" he answered, "I'm not letting a single dream of mine go without first trying to reach it!"

Everyone in the room, including Elizabeth, at once seemed to become aware of all their own lost dreams. Elizabeth felt that she and the Scotsman were very similar. They both looked at the world in a serious and sad way. She could tell by the way he did not join the other men in their stupid jokes about life that the Scotsman did not agree with hiding his true feelings behind humor.

When the time came for Mr Farfrae to go to bed, the hotel-owner asked Elizabeth to prepare the Scotsman's bed before he went to his room. She took care of it immediately, and, afterward, on her way back downstairs, accidentally passed the young man on the staircase. He noticed her and, as he continued to climb the staircase, began to sing a song about a pretty girl he met coming down the stairs.

Later on, after the barroom emptied, Elizabeth returned to her mother. Both women were lost in thought about different men. Hardly a word was spoken between them. Elizabeth's man was sleeping on the other side of the wall, while Mrs Newson's man was actually just outside the hotel, standing in the street.

Ever since his conversation with the Scotsman, Henchard had walked up and down the road of the Three Mariner's. He heard the young man sing earlier in the evening and could not help thinking to himself, "My goodness, how I like that man! I guess it's because I'm lonely. Why, I would've given him a whole third of my business!"

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