The Return of the Native
A wild heath, a woman who longed for the world, and the man who returned to the home she longed to escape
Page 1
Egdon Heath is a vast, wild place, ancient as the hills. As darkness fell on Guy Fawkes Night, locals built a great bonfire on Rainbarrow. "A diamond merchant from Paris!" one man said, warming his hands. "A great man for all his learning," added another. "He will be a blessing to this poor place." They spoke of Clym Yeobright, the native, who was coming home. Far away on another barrow, Eustacia Vye stood watching. She hated the Heath and dreamed of a life of brilliance far away. The innkeeper Damon Wildeve left the main fire and walked towards her. "You were watching my fire," he called out. "No," she replied coolly, "I was watching a different one." From the shadows, the strange reddleman Diggory Venn watched them both, his face a silent, crimson mask in the gloom.
Page 2
In her grandfather’s house at Mistover Knap, Eustacia paced her room, a prison cell on the vast heath she despised. She dreamed of Paris, music, and society. The returning native, Clym Yeobright, was her new obsession. "He must be refined, and brilliant," she whispered to her reflection in the dark windowpane, her breath misting the glass. "He has lived in the world. He will not wish to stay in this miserable place." Her hopes took flight. He would be her rescuer, the one who would finally unlock the gate of her prison and take her away into the life she was meant for. She picked up her spyglass from the table, but did not raise it to her eye. "I have seen enough of this heath to last a lifetime," she said bitterly. "Now I want to see a city."
Page 3
At Blooms-End, Clym sat by the fire with his proud mother and his cousin, Thomasin. Mrs. Yeobright's ambitions for her son were boundless. But Clym had come to a decision. "I have come home to stay, Mother," he said gently, looking into the flames. "I find my business in Paris a trivial one. I am going to be a schoolmaster here." His mother stared, her knitting falling into her lap. "A schoolmaster!" she cried, her voice tight with disbelief. "To give up a fortune for a few miserable pounds? You are mad, Clym!" Thomasin looked from one to the other, her face pale with worry. "Please," she began, "don't quarrel." But the gulf had already opened between mother and son, a divide that would never be bridged.
Page 4
Diggory Venn, the reddleman, loved Thomasin and would not see her wronged. He knew the innkeeper Wildeve trifled with her and held her inheritance money. On the dark heath outside Wildeve's inn, Venn made his challenge. "The money is hers, Wildeve," Venn said, his voice low and even. "Set the stakes. We will play for it." They knelt by lantern light, with a circle of glow-worms adding an eerie glimmer. The dice rattled on a flat stone. "You have the devil's own luck, reddleman!" Wildeve cursed, throwing the dice again and again, his frustration growing with every loss. "It is not luck," Venn replied, his crimson face unreadable as he swept the coins towards him. "It is for her." By sheer will, he won every coin, protecting the woman he could not have.
Page 5
Clym and Eustacia met in secret on the moonlit heath, their love a fire in the darkness. They were perfectly in love, and perfectly mistaken. "I love you, Eustacia," Clym said, his voice full of passion. "I could not live without you. We will have a good life here together, teaching the children." Eustacia clung to him, but her mind was elsewhere. "And then we will go to Paris!" she begged, her voice urgent. "Take me to Paris, Clym! I must see it. We will go soon, won't we?" Clym smiled, treating her plea as a whim. "Perhaps, my queen. But first, our life here." Each heard only what they wanted to hear. On a warm summer night, they promised to marry, sealing their love and their mutual, tragic misunderstanding.
Page 6
Married life in their isolated cottage was not what Eustacia had dreamed. Clym’s intense studies had ruined his eyesight, and now, nearly blind, he was forced to work as a furze-cutter. He came home one evening, exhausted and grimy. "A furze-cutter!" Eustacia said, her voice dripping with contempt as she turned from the window. "Is this what you have brought me to?" Clym sank into a chair, rubbing his aching eyes behind their dark glasses. "It is honest work, Eustacia," he replied wearily. "It is all I can do for now." "You could go back to Paris!" she retorted, her hands clenched. "You could be a rich man again!" He shook his head, too tired to argue. The cottage had become a silent prison where two mismatched souls stared at the ruins of their hopes.
Page 7
On a blisteringly hot August day, Mrs. Yeobright walked across the heath to reconcile with her son. As she neared the cottage, she saw Wildeve inside with Eustacia. Not wishing to interrupt, she knocked and waited. Inside, Eustacia, angry at Wildeve's presence, hesitated. "Is it your mother?" Wildeve asked. "Yes," she snapped. "Wait. Let her knock again." In the back room, Clym was fast asleep. Mrs. Yeobright knocked a second time, a softer, more hesitant rap. No one came. Believing the door was deliberately barred against her, the old woman turned away, her heart broken. "You have seen the last of me," she whispered to the silent cottage, and began her slow, sad walk home into the unforgiving heat.
Page 8
Clym searched the heath for his mother and found her collapsed near the Black Barrow. He knelt beside her, frantic with worry. "Mother, what is it? Speak to me!" he pleaded, cradling her head. She was barely conscious, her face pale. He saw a small mark on her ankle and realized she had been bitten by an adder. Her last words had been to a child who was with her. When Clym found the boy, he asked what she had said. The child repeated her broken-hearted murmur: "She said her son had shut the door against her." Mrs. Yeobright died there, in her son's arms. Clym's grief was a tidal wave, but under it was a cold, terrible certainty. He had the reason for his mother’s death, and he knew who to blame.
Page 9
After a furious argument with Clym, Eustacia fled into a stormy night. She could not bear his accusations a moment longer. "I am going from this cursed heath!" she cried into the wind. "I wish I had never seen it!" She made her way to Shadwater Weir, where the floodwater roared. Wildeve, following her, saw her fall into the churning pool. He leaped in to save her. "The weir! They've gone into the weir!" a man shouted. Clym arrived, followed by Diggory Venn, plunging into the raging water with ropes. "Eustacia!" Clym screamed into the rain. They fought the current in the darkness, but it was too late. When they were finally pulled to the bank, Eustacia Vye and Damon Wildeve were both dead, their passions extinguished by the cold, dark water of the heath.
Page 10
Years passed, and the Heath remained. Thomasin married Diggory Venn, who gave up his wandering life to become a dairy farmer, and they found a quiet happiness. "He is a good man," Thomasin would say, watching her husband with their child. Clym Yeobright, his great ambitions humbled, became an itinerant preacher. On fine Sunday afternoons, he would climb Rainbarrow and speak to the few heath-folk who gathered. "Let us not fight our destiny," he might say, his voice carrying on the gentle breeze, "but find grace in what is given." He was a sadder and a wiser man, at peace in the landscape he had once tried to change. The great drama was over. He had returned to the Heath, and the Heath, vast and patient, had claimed him for its own.
About this story
- Audience: general readers
Read Wonder Novels on your phone
Wonder Novels is available on Android. Get Wonder Novels on Google Play.