Casterbridge, near the barracks, of this strange and glorious performance, the sword-exercise. Men and boys who had peeped through chinks or over walls into the barrack-yard returned with accounts of its being the most flashing affair conceivable; accoutrements and weapons glistening like stars—here, there, around—yet all by rule and compass. So she said mildly what she felt strongly.
"Yes; I should like to see it very much."
"And so you shall; you shall see me go through it."
"No! How?"
"Let me consider."
"Not with a walking-stick—I don't care to see that. It must be a real sword."
"Yes, I know; and I have no sword here; but I think I could get one by the evening. Now, will you do this?"
Troy bent over her and murmured some suggestion in a low voice.
"Oh no, indeed!" said Bathsheba, blushing. "Thank you very much, but I couldn't on any account."
"Surely you might? Nobody would know."
She shook her head, but with a weakened negation. "If I were to," she said, "I must bring Liddy too. Might I not?"