finished_summaries/cliffnotes/Far from the Madding Crowd/section_15_part_0.txt
Far from the Madding Crowd.chapter 16
chapter 16
{"name": "Chapter 16", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20201101052914/https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/f/far-from-the-madding-crowd/summary-and-analysis/chapter-16", "summary": "A small congregation at All Saints' Church was startled by the clash of spurs at the close of a weekday service. A cavalry soldier strode into the chapel and spoke to the curate. \"'Tis a wedding!\" murmured one of the women, brightening. \"Let's wait!\" Through the open door from the vestry they heard the creaking mechanism of the clock indicating half-past eleven. No one appeared, and there was tittering and giggling. So again at the three-quarter hour. \"I wonder where the woman is,\" a voice whispered. This was repeated at the full hour. As the angry sergeant was about to leave, Fanny arrived, breathless, to explain that she had been waiting at All Souls', which she had mistaken for All Saints'. She suggested that they meet again the next day, but Troy refused to go through such a performance a second time. Fanny, trembling, asked when the wedding would be. \"'Ah, when? God knows!' he said, with a light irony, and turning from her, walked rapidly away.\"", "analysis": "Troy is infuriated by his humiliation before the old women and takes out his rage on poor, confused Fanny. Her reaction to his anger is near terror. Though we have seen little of Troy, Fanny's actions do provide some clues to his nature."}


ALL SAINTS' AND ALL SOULS'


On a week-day morning a small congregation, consisting mainly of
women and girls, rose from its knees in the mouldy nave of a church
called All Saints', in the distant barrack-town before-mentioned, at
the end of a service without a sermon.  They were about to disperse,
when a smart footstep, entering the porch and coming up the central
passage, arrested their attention.  The step echoed with a ring
unusual in a church; it was the clink of spurs.  Everybody looked.  A
young cavalry soldier in a red uniform, with the three chevrons of a
sergeant upon his sleeve, strode up the aisle, with an embarrassment
which was only the more marked by the intense vigour of his step, and
by the determination upon his face to show none.  A slight flush had
mounted his cheek by the time he had run the gauntlet between these
women; but, passing on through the chancel arch, he never paused till
he came close to the altar railing.  Here for a moment he stood
alone.

The officiating curate, who had not yet doffed his surplice,
perceived the new-comer, and followed him to the communion-space.  He
whispered to the soldier, and then beckoned to the clerk, who in his
turn whispered to an elderly woman, apparently his wife, and they
also went up the chancel steps.

"'Tis a wedding!" murmured some of the women, brightening.  "Let's
wait!"

The majority again sat down.

There was a creaking of machinery behind, and some of the young ones
turned their heads.  From the interior face of the west wall of the
tower projected a little canopy with a quarter-jack and small bell
beneath it, the automaton being driven by the same clock machinery
that struck the large bell in the tower.  Between the tower and the
church was a close screen, the door of which was kept shut during
services, hiding this grotesque clockwork from sight.  At present,
however, the door was open, and the egress of the jack, the blows on
the bell, and the mannikin's retreat into the nook again, were
visible to many, and audible throughout the church.

The jack had struck half-past eleven.

"Where's the woman?" whispered some of the spectators.

The young sergeant stood still with the abnormal rigidity of the old
pillars around.  He faced the south-east, and was as silent as he was
still.

The silence grew to be a noticeable thing as the minutes went on,
and nobody else appeared, and not a soul moved.  The rattle of the
quarter-jack again from its niche, its blows for three-quarters, its
fussy retreat, were almost painfully abrupt, and caused many of the
congregation to start palpably.

"I wonder where the woman is!" a voice whispered again.

There began now that slight shifting of feet, that artificial
coughing among several, which betrays a nervous suspense.  At length
there was a titter.  But the soldier never moved.  There he stood,
his face to the south-east, upright as a column, his cap in his hand.

The clock ticked on.  The women threw off their nervousness, and
titters and giggling became more frequent.  Then came a dead silence.
Every one was waiting for the end.  Some persons may have noticed how
extraordinarily the striking of quarters seems to quicken the flight
of time.  It was hardly credible that the jack had not got wrong with
the minutes when the rattle began again, the puppet emerged, and the
four quarters were struck fitfully as before.  One could almost be
positive that there was a malicious leer upon the hideous creature's
face, and a mischievous delight in its twitchings.  Then followed the
dull and remote resonance of the twelve heavy strokes in the tower
above.  The women were impressed, and there was no giggle this time.

The clergyman glided into the vestry, and the clerk vanished.  The
sergeant had not yet turned; every woman in the church was waiting to
see his face, and he appeared to know it.  At last he did turn, and
stalked resolutely down the nave, braving them all, with a compressed
lip.  Two bowed and toothless old almsmen then looked at each other
and chuckled, innocently enough; but the sound had a strange weird
effect in that place.

Opposite to the church was a paved square, around which several
overhanging wood buildings of old time cast a picturesque shade.  The
young man on leaving the door went to cross the square, when, in the
middle, he met a little woman.  The expression of her face, which had
been one of intense anxiety, sank at the sight of his nearly to
terror.

"Well?" he said, in a suppressed passion, fixedly looking at her.

"Oh, Frank--I made a mistake!--I thought that church with the spire
was All Saints', and I was at the door at half-past eleven to a
minute as you said.  I waited till a quarter to twelve, and found
then that I was in All Souls'.  But I wasn't much frightened, for
I thought it could be to-morrow as well."

"You fool, for so fooling me!  But say no more."

"Shall it be to-morrow, Frank?" she asked blankly.

"To-morrow!" and he gave vent to a hoarse laugh.  "I don't go through
that experience again for some time, I warrant you!"

"But after all," she expostulated in a trembling voice, "the mistake
was not such a terrible thing!  Now, dear Frank, when shall it be?"

"Ah, when?  God knows!" he said, with a light irony, and turning from
her walked rapidly away.




Chapter 16
A small congregation at All Saints' Church was startled by the clash of spurs at the close of a weekday service. A cavalry soldier strode into the chapel and spoke to the curate. "'Tis a wedding!" murmured one of the women, brightening. "Let's wait!" Through the open door from the vestry they heard the creaking mechanism of the clock indicating half-past eleven. No one appeared, and there was tittering and giggling. So again at the three-quarter hour. "I wonder where the woman is," a voice whispered. This was repeated at the full hour. As the angry sergeant was about to leave, Fanny arrived, breathless, to explain that she had been waiting at All Souls', which she had mistaken for All Saints'. She suggested that they meet again the next day, but Troy refused to go through such a performance a second time. Fanny, trembling, asked when the wedding would be. "'Ah, when? God knows!' he said, with a light irony, and turning from her, walked rapidly away."
Troy is infuriated by his humiliation before the old women and takes out his rage on poor, confused Fanny. Her reaction to his anger is near terror. Though we have seen little of Troy, Fanny's actions do provide some clues to his nature.