Bront Charlotte Jane Eyre An Autobiography PG 1260
1 CHAPTER I
(calling to his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the
rain -- bad animal!" "It is well I drew the curtain," thought I; and I wished
fervently he might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found
it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just
put her head in at the door, and said at once -- "She is in the window-seat, to
be sure, Jack." And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being
dragged forth by the said Jack.
"That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since," said he, "and for
your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look you had in your
eyes two minutes since, you rat!" Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had
an idea of replying to it; my care was how to endure the blow which would
certainly follow the insult.
2 CHAPTER II
All looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality: and the
strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking
the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the
effect of a real spirit: I thought it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy,
half imp, Bessie's evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny
dells in moors, and appearing before the eyes of belated travellers.
I doubted not -- never doubted -- that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have
treated me kindly; and now, as I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed
walls -- occasionally also turning a fascinated eye towards the dimly gleaning
mirror -- I began to recall what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their
graves by the violation of their last wishes, revisiting the earth to punish the
perjured and avenge the oppressed; and I thought Mr. Reed's spirit, harassed by
the wrongs of his sister's child, might quit its abode -- whether in the church
vault or in the unknown world of the departed -- and rise before me in this
chamber.
3 CHAPTER III
I considered it a narrative of facts, and discovered in it a vein of interest
deeper than what I found in fairy tales: for as to the elves, having sought them
in vain among foxglove leaves and bells, under mushrooms and beneath the ground-
ivy mantling old wall-nooks, I had at length made up my mind to the sad truth,
that they were all gone out of England to some savage country where the woods
were wilder and thicker, and the population more scant; whereas, Lilliput and
Brobdignag being, in my creed, solid parts of the earth's surface, I doubted not
that I might one day, by taking a long voyage, see with my own eyes the little
fields, houses, and trees, the diminutive people, the tiny cows, sheep, and
birds of the one realm; and the corn-fields forest-high, the mighty mastiffs,
the monster cats, the tower-like men and women, of the other.
In the interview which followed between him and Mrs. Reed, I presume, from
after-occurrences, that the apothecary ventured to recommend my being sent to
school; and the recommendation was no doubt readily enough adopted; for as Abbot
said, in discussing the subject with Bessie when both sat sewing in the nursery
one night, after I was in bed, and, as they thought, asleep, "Missis was, she
dared say, glad enough to get rid of such a tiresome, ill-conditioned child, who
always looked as if she were watching everybody, and scheming plots underhand."
Abbot, I think, gave me credit for being a sort of infantine Guy Fawkes.
4 CHAPTER IV
I heard him in a blubbering tone commence the tale of how "that nasty Jane Eyre"
had flown at him like a mad cat: he was stopped rather harshly -- "Don't talk to
me about her, John: I told you not to go near her; she is not worthy of notice;
I do not choose that either you or your sisters should associate with her."
Here, leaning over the banister, I cried out suddenly, and without at all
deliberating on my words -- "They are not fit to associate with me." Mrs. Reed
was rather a stout woman; but, on hearing this strange and audacious
declaration, she ran nimbly up the stair, swept me like a whirlwind into the
nursery, and crushing me down on the edge of my crib, dared me in an emphatic
voice to rise from that place, or utter one syllable during the remainder of the
day.
Mrs. Reed occupied her usual seat by the fireside; she made a signal to me to
approach; I did so, and she introduced me to the stony stranger with the words:
"This is the little girl respecting whom I applied to you." He , for it was a
man, turned his head slowly towards where I stood, and having examined me with
the two inquisitive-looking grey eyes which twinkled under a pair of bushy
brows, said solemnly, and in a bass voice, "Her size is small: what is her age?"
"Ten years." "So much?" was the doubtful answer; and he prolonged his scrutiny
for some minutes.
5 CHAPTER V
Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a bench near the door, then walking up to the
top of the long room she cried out -- "Monitors, collect the lesson-books and
put them away!" Four tall girls arose from different tables, and going round,
gathered the books and removed them.
Again the bell rang: all formed in file, two and two, and in that order
descended the stairs and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom: here prayers
were read by Miss Miller; afterwards she called out -- "Form classes!" A great
tumult succeeded for some minutes, during which Miss Miller repeatedly
exclaimed, "Silence!" and "Order!" When it subsided, I saw them all drawn up in
four semicircles, before four chairs, placed at the four tables; all held books
in their hands, and a great book, like a Bible, lay on each table, before the
vacant seat.
The superintendent of Lowood (for such was this lady) having taken her seat
before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables, summoned the first class
round her, and commenced giving a lesson on geography; the lower classes were
called by the teachers: repetitions in history, grammar, &c., went on for an
hour; writing and arithmetic succeeded, and music lessons were given by Miss
Temple to some of the elder girls.
6 CHAPTER VI
"Why," thought I, "does she not explain that she could neither clean her nails
nor wash her face, as the water was frozen?" My attention was now called off by
Miss Smith desiring me to hold a skein of thread: while she was winding it, she
talked to me from time to time, asking whether I had ever been at school before,
whether I could mark, stitch, knit, &c.; till she dismissed me, I could not
pursue my observations on Miss Scatcherd's movements.
I don't understand." "It is not violence that best overcomes hate -- nor
vengeance that most certainly heals injury." "What then?" "Read the New
Testament, and observe what Christ says, and how He acts; make His word your
rule, and His conduct your example." "What does He say?" "Love your enemies;
bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate you and despitefully use
you." "Then I should love Mrs. Reed, which I cannot do; I should bless her son
John, which is impossible." In her turn, Helen Burns asked me to explain, and I
proceeded forthwith to pour out, in my own way, the tale of my sufferings and
resentments.
7 CHAPTER VII
"Ladies," said he, turning to his family, "Miss Temple, teachers, and children,
you all see this girl?" Of course they did; for I felt their eyes directed like
burning-glasses against my scorched skin.
"This I learned from her benefactress; from the pious and charitable lady who
adopted her in her orphan state, reared her as her own daughter, and whose
kindness, whose generosity the unhappy girl repaid by an ingratitude so bad, so
dreadful, that at last her excellent patroness was obliged to separate her from
her own young ones, fearful lest her vicious example should contaminate their
purity: she has sent her here to be healed, even as the Jews of old sent their
diseased to the troubled pool of Bethesda; and, teachers, superintendent, I beg
of you not to allow the waters to stagnate round her." With this sublime
conclusion, Mr. Brocklehurst adjusted the top button of his surtout, muttered
something to his family, who rose, bowed to Miss Temple, and then all the great
people sailed in state from the room.
8 CHAPTER VIII
"I came on purpose to find you, Jane Eyre," said she; "I want you in my room;
and as Helen Burns is with you, she may come too." We went; following the
superintendent's guidance, we had to thread some intricate passages, and mount a
staircase before we reached her apartment; it contained a good fire, and looked
cheerful.
"Oh, very well!" returned Miss Temple; "we must make it do, Barbara, I suppose."
And as the girl withdrew she added, smiling, "Fortunately, I have it in my power
to supply deficiencies for this once." Having invited Helen and me to approach
the table, and placed before each of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin
morsel of toast, she got up, unlocked a drawer, and taking from it a parcel
wrapped in paper, disclosed presently to our eyes a good-sized seed-cake.
no delay could be admitted; Miss Temple embraced us both, saying, as she drew us
to her heart -- "God bless you, my children!" Helen she held a little longer
than me: she let her go more reluctantly; it was Helen her eye followed to the
door; it was for her she a second time breathed a sad sigh; for her she wiped a
tear from her cheek.
9 CHAPTER IX
It is not likely; and now it is time for you to come in; you'll catch the fever
if you stop out when the dew is falling." The nurse closed the front door; I
went in by the side entrance which led to the schoolroom: I was just in time; it
was nine o'clock, and Miss Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed.
God is my father; God is my friend: I love Him; I believe He loves me." "And
shall I see you again, Helen, when I die?" "You will come to the same region of
happiness: be received by the same mighty, universal Parent, no doubt, dear
Jane." Again I questioned, but this time only in thought.
I was not reprimanded for leaving my bed; people had something else to think
about; no explanation was afforded then to my many questions; but a day or two
afterwards I learned that Miss Temple, on returning to her own room at dawn, had
found me laid in the little crib; my face against Helen Burns's shoulder, my
arms round her neck.
10 CHAPTER X
He went to college, and he got -- plucked, I think they call it: and then his
uncles wanted him to be a barrister, and study the law: but he is such a
dissipated young man, they will never make much of him, I think." "What does he
look like?" "He is very tall: some people call him a fine-looking young man; but
he has such thick lips." "And Mrs. Reed?" "Missis looks stout and well enough in
the face, but I think she's not quite easy in her mind: Mr. John's conduct does
not please her -- he spends a deal of money." "Did she send you here, Bessie?"
"No, indeed: but I have long wanted to see you, and when I heard that there had
been a letter from you, and that you were going to another part of the country,
I thought I'd just set off, and get a look at you before you were quite out of
my reach." "I am afraid you are disappointed in me, Bessie." I said this
laughing: I perceived that Bessie's glance, though it expressed regard, did in
no shape denote admiration.
11 CHAPTER XI
A snug small room; a round table by a cheerful fire; an arm-chair high- backed
and old-fashioned, wherein sat the neatest imaginable little elderly lady, in
widow's cap, black silk gown, and snowy muslin apron; exactly like what I had
fancied Mrs. Fairfax, only less stately and milder looking.
When Mrs. Fairfax had bidden me a kind good-night, and I had fastened my door,
gazed leisurely round, and in some measure effaced the eerie impression made by
that wide hall, that dark and spacious staircase, and that long, cold gallery,
by the livelier aspect of my little room, I remembered that, after a day of
bodily fatigue and mental anxiety, I was now at last in safe haven.
I was yet enjoying the calm prospect and pleasant fresh air, yet listening with
delight to the cawing of the rooks, yet surveying the wide, hoary front of the
hall, and thinking what a great place it was for one lonely little dame like
Mrs. Fairfax to inhabit, when that lady appeared at the door.
12 CHAPTER XII
Anybody may blame me who likes, when I add further, that, now and then, when I
took a walk by myself in the grounds; when I went down to the gates and looked
through them along the road; or when, while Adele played with her nurse, and
Mrs. Fairfax made jellies in the storeroom, I climbed the three staircases,
raised the trap-door of the attic, and having reached the leads, looked out afar
over sequestered field and hill, and along dim sky-line -- that then I longed
for a power of vision which might overpass that limit; which might reach the
busy world, towns, regions full of life I had heard of but never seen -- that
then I desired more of practical experience than I possessed; more of
intercourse with my kind, of acquaintance with variety of character, than was
here within my reach.
13 CHAPTER XIII
Here is a candle." "Is it necessary to change my frock?" "Yes, you had better: I
always dress for the evening when Mr. Rochester is here." This additional
ceremony seemed somewhat stately; however, I repaired to my room, and, with Mrs.
Fairfax's aid, replaced my black stuff dress by one of black silk; the best and
the only additional one I had, except one of light grey, which, in my Lowood
notions of the toilette, I thought too fine to be worn, except on first-rate
occasions.
"Will you hand Mr. Rochester's cup?" said Mrs. Fairfax to me; "Adele might
perhaps spill it." I did as requested.
"Come to the fire," said the master, when the tray was taken away, and Mrs.
Fairfax had settled into a corner with her knitting; while Adele was leading me
by the hand round the room, showing me the beautiful books and ornaments on the
consoles and chiffonnieres.
"Take them off to the other table, Mrs. Fairfax," said he, "and look at them
with Adele; -- you" (glancing at me) "resume your seat, and answer my questions.
"You said Mr. Rochester was not strikingly peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax," I observed,
when I rejoined her in her room, after putting Adele to bed.
14 CHAPTER XIV
Miss Eyre, draw your chair still a little farther forward: you are yet too far
back; I cannot see you without disturbing my position in this comfortable chair,
which I have no mind to do." I did as I was bid, though I would much rather have
remained somewhat in the shade; but Mr. Rochester had such a direct way of
giving orders, it seemed a matter of course to obey him promptly.
"You examine me, Miss Eyre," said he: "do you think me handsome?" I should, if I
had deliberated, have replied to this question by something conventionally vague
and polite; but the answer somehow slipped from my tongue before I was aware --
"No, sir." "Ah!
"The smile is very well," said he, catching instantly the passing expression;
"but speak too." "I was thinking, sir, that very few masters would trouble
themselves to inquire whether or not their paid subordinates were piqued and
hurt by their orders." "Paid subordinates!
My eye met his as the idea crossed my mind: he seemed to read the glance,
answering as if its import had been spoken as well as imagined -- "Yes, yes, you
are right," said he; "I have plenty of faults of my own: I know it, and I don't
wish to palliate them, I assure you.
15 CHAPTER XV
The balcony was furnished with a chair or two; I sat down, and took out a cigar,
-- I will take one now, if you will excuse me." Here ensued a pause, filled up
by the producing and lighting of a cigar; having placed it to his lips and
breathed a trail of Havannah incense on the freezing and sunless air, he went on
-- "I liked bonbons too in those days, Miss Eyre, and I was croquant --
(overlook the barbarism) -- croquant chocolate comfits, and smoking alternately,
watching meantime the equipages that rolled along the fashionable streets
towards the neighbouring opera-house, when in an elegant close carriage drawn by
a beautiful pair of English horses, and distinctly seen in the brilliant city-
night, I recognised the 'voiture' I had given Celine.
At the end of a few minutes he inquired in rather a peculiar tone -- "I forget
whether you said you saw anything when you opened your chamber door." "No, sir,
only the candlestick on the ground." "But you heard an odd laugh?
You have heard that laugh before, I should think, or something like it?" "Yes,
sir: there is a woman who sews here, called Grace Poole, -- she laughs in that
way.
16 CHAPTER XVI
Gentlemen especially are often in request on such occasions; and Mr. Rochester
is so talented and so lively in society, that I believe he is a general
favourite: the ladies are very fond of him; though you would not think his
appearance calculated to recommend him particularly in their eyes: but I suppose
his acquirements and abilities, perhaps his wealth and good blood, make amends
for any little fault of look." "Are there ladies at the Leas?" "There are Mrs.
Eshton and her three daughters -- very elegant young ladies indeed; and there
are the Honourable Blanche and Mary Ingram, most beautiful women, I suppose:
indeed I have seen Blanche, six or seven years since, when she was a girl of
eighteen.
I never saw a more splendid scene: the ladies were magnificently dressed; most
of them -- at least most of the younger ones -- looked handsome; but Miss Ingram
was certainly the queen." "And what was she like?" "Tall, fine bust, sloping
shoulders; long, graceful neck: olive complexion, dark and clear; noble
features; eyes rather like Mr. Rochester's: large and black, and as brilliant as
her jewels.
17 CHAPTER XVII
You must go into the drawing- room while it is empty, before the ladies leave
the dinner-table; choose your seat in any quiet nook you like; you need not stay
long after the gentlemen come in, unless you please: just let Mr. Rochester see
you are there and then slip away -- nobody will notice you." "Will these people
remain long, do you think?" "Perhaps two or three weeks, certainly not more.
You are not to suppose, reader, that Adele has all this time been sitting
motionless on the stool at my feet: no; when the ladies entered, she rose,
advanced to meet them, made a stately reverence, and said with gravity -- "Bon
jour, mesdames." And Miss Ingram had looked down at her with a mocking air, and
exclaimed, "Oh, what a little puppet!" Lady Lynn had remarked, "It is Mr.
Rochester's ward, I suppose -- the little French girl he was speaking of." Mrs.
Dent had kindly taken her hand, and given her a kiss.
18 CHAPTER XVIII
What charade Colonel Dent and his party played, what word they chose, how they
acquitted themselves, I no longer remember; but I still see the consultation
which followed each scene: I see Mr. Rochester turn to Miss Ingram, and Miss
Ingram to him; I see her incline her head towards him, till the jetty curls
almost touch his shoulder and wave against his cheek; I hear their mutual
whisperings; I recall their interchanged glances; and something even of the
feeling roused by the spectacle returns in memory at this moment.
It was verging on dusk, and the clock had already given warning of the hour to
dress for dinner, when little Adele, who knelt by me in the drawing-room window-
seat, suddenly exclaimed -- "Voila, Monsieur Rochester, qui revient!" I turned,
and Miss Ingram darted forwards from her sofa: the others, too, looked up from
their several occupations; for at the same time a crunching of wheels and a
splashing tramp of horse-hoofs became audible on the wet gravel.
19 CHAPTER XIX
He went to Millcote this morning, and will be back here to-night or to-morrow:
does that circumstance exclude him from the list of your acquaintance -- blot
him, as it were, out of existence?" "No; but I can scarcely see what Mr.
Rochester has to do with the theme you had introduced." "I was talking of ladies
smiling in the eyes of gentlemen; and of late so many smiles have been shed into
Mr. Rochester's eyes that they overflow like two cups filled above the brim:
have you never remarked that?" "Mr. Rochester has a right to enjoy the society
of his guests." "No question about his right: but have you never observed that,
of all the tales told here about matrimony, Mr. Rochester has been favoured with
the most lively and the most continuous?" "The eagerness of a listener quickens
the tongue of a narrator." I said this rather to myself than to the gipsy, whose
strange talk, voice, manner, had by this time wrapped me in a kind of dream.
20 CHAPTER XX
That sky with its high and light clouds which are sure to melt away as the day
waxes warm -- this placid and balmly atmosphere?" "I do, very much." "You have
passed a strange night, Jane." "Yes, sir." "And it has made you look pale --
were you afraid when I left you alone with Mason?" "I was afraid of some one
coming out of the inner room." "But I had fastened the door -- I had the key in
my pocket: I should have been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb -- my pet
lamb -- so near a wolf's den, unguarded: you were safe." "Will Grace Poole live
here still, sir?" "Oh yes!
"Now, my little friend, while the sun drinks the dew -- while all the flowers in
this old garden awake and expand, and the birds fetch their young ones'
breakfast out of the Thornfield, and the early bees do their first spell of work
-- I'll put a case to you, which you must endeavour to suppose your own: but
first, look at me, and tell me you are at ease, and not fearing that I err in
detaining you, or that you err in staying." "No, sir; I am content." "Well then,
Jane, call to aid your fancy: -- suppose you were no longer a girl well reared
and disciplined, but a wild boy indulged from childhood upwards; imagine
yourself in a remote foreign land; conceive that you there commit a capital
error, no matter of what nature or from what motives, but one whose consequences
must follow you through life and taint all your existence.
21 CHAPTER XXI
I would never think of running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will,
perhaps, be dead before you reach her: besides, you say she cast you off." "Yes,
sir, but that is long ago; and when her circumstances were very different: I
could not be easy to neglect her wishes now." "How long will you stay?" "As
short a time as possible, sir." "Promise me only to stay a week -- " "I had
better not pass my word: I might be obliged to break it." "At all events you
will come back: you will not be induced under any pretext to take up a permanent
residence with her?" "Oh, no!
Will you rest yourself here an hour, Miss, and then I will go up with you?"
Robert here entered, and Bessie laid her sleeping child in the cradle and went
to welcome him: afterwards she insisted on my taking off my bonnet and having
some tea; for she said I looked pale and tired.
22 CHAPTER XXII
I had heard from Mrs. Fairfax in the interim of my absence: the party at the
hall was dispersed; Mr. Rochester had left for London three weeks ago, but he
was then expected to return in a fortnight.
When tea was over and Mrs. Fairfax had taken her knitting, and I had assumed a
low seat near her, and Adele, kneeling on the carpet, had nestled close up to
me, and a sense of mutual affection seemed to surround us with a ring of golden
peace, I uttered a silent prayer that we might not be parted far or soon; but
when, as we thus sat, Mr. Rochester entered, unannounced, and looking at us,
seemed to take pleasure in the spectacle of a group so amicable -- when he said
he supposed the old lady was all right now that she had got her adopted daughter
back again, and added that he saw Adele was "prete a croquer sa petite maman
Anglaise" -- I half ventured to hope that he would, even after his marriage,
keep us together somewhere under the shelter of his protection, and not quite
exiled from the sunshine of his presence.
23 CHAPTER XXIII
"Jane," he recommenced, as we entered the laurel walk, and slowly strayed down
in the direction of the sunk fence and the horse-chestnut, "Thornfield is a
pleasant place in summer, is it not?" "Yes, sir." "You must have become in some
degree attached to the house, -- you, who have an eye for natural beauties, and
a good deal of the organ of Adhesiveness?" "I am attached to it, indeed." "And
though I don't comprehend how it is, I perceive you have acquired a degree of
regard for that foolish little child Adele, too; and even for simple dame
Fairfax?" "Yes, sir; in different ways, I have an affection for both." "And
would be sorry to part with them?" "Yes." "Pity!" he said, and sighed and
paused.
"And your will shall decide your destiny," he said: "I offer you my hand, my
heart, and a share of all my possessions." "You play a farce, which I merely
laugh at." "I ask you to pass through life at my side -- to be my second self,
and best earthly companion." "For that fate you have already made your choice,
and must abide by it." "Jane, be still a few moments: you are over-excited: I
will be still too." A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk, and
trembled through the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away -- away -- to an
indefinite distance -- it died.
24 CHAPTER XXIV
Last night I cannot tell you what I suffered when I sought all over the house,
and could find you nowhere, nor the master either; and then, at twelve o'clock,
saw you come in with him." "Well, never mind that now," I interrupted
impatiently; "it is enough that all was right." "I hope all will be right in the
end," she said: "but believe me, you cannot be too careful.
I'll get admitted there, and I'll stir up mutiny; and you, three-tailed bashaw
as you are, sir, shall in a trice find yourself fettered amongst our hands: nor
will I, for one, consent to cut your bonds till you have signed a charter, the
most liberal that despot ever yet conferred." "I would consent to be at your
mercy, Jane." "I would have no mercy, Mr. Rochester, if you supplicated for it
with an eye like that.
I shall keep out of your way all day, as I have been accustomed to do: you may
send for me in the evening, when you feel disposed to see me, and I'll come
then; but at no other time." "I want a smoke, Jane, or a pinch of snuff, to
comfort me under all this, 'pour me donner une contenance,' as Adele would say;
and unfortunately I have neither my cigar-case, nor my snuff-box.
25 CHAPTER XXV
Instead of subsiding as night drew on, it seemed to augment its rush and deepen
its roar: the trees blew steadfastly one way, never writhing round, and scarcely
tossing back their boughs once in an hour; so continuous was the strain bending
their branchy heads northward -- the clouds drifted from pole to pole, fast
following, mass on mass: no glimpse of blue sky had been visible that July day.
I wish I could believe them to be only such: I wish it more now than ever; since
even you cannot explain to me the mystery of that awful visitant." "And since I
cannot do it, Jane, it must have been unreal." "But, sir, when I said so to
myself on rising this morning, and when I looked round the room to gather
courage and comfort from the cheerful aspect of each familiar object in full
daylight, there -- on the carpet -- I saw what gave the distinct lie to my
hypothesis, -- the veil, torn from top to bottom in two halves!" I felt Mr.
Rochester start and shudder; he hastily flung his arms round me.
26 CHAPTER XXVI
And the clergyman, who had not lifted his eyes from his book, and had held his
breath but for a moment, was proceeding: his hand was already stretched towards
Mr. Rochester, as his lips unclosed to ask, "Wilt thou have this woman for thy
wedded wife?" -- when a distinct and near voice said -- "The marriage cannot go
on: I declare the existence of an impediment." The clergyman looked up at the
speaker and stood mute; the clerk did the same; Mr. Rochester moved slightly, as
if an earthquake had rolled under his feet: taking a firmer footing, and not
turning his head or eyes, he said, "Proceed." Profound silence fell when he had
uttered that word, with deep but low intonation.
His eye, as I have often said, was a black eye: it had now a tawny, nay, a
bloody light in its gloom; and his face flushed -- olive cheek and hueless
forehead received a glow as from spreading, ascending heart-fire: and he
stirred, lifted his strong arm -- he could have struck Mason, dashed him on the
church-floor, shocked by ruthless blow the breath from his body -- but Mason
shrank away, and cried faintly, "Good God!" Contempt fell cool on Mr. Rochester
-- his passion died as if a blight had shrivelled it up: he only asked -- "What
have you to say?" An inaudible reply escaped Mason's white lips.
27 CHAPTER XXVII
My father and my brother Rowland knew all this; but they thought only of the
thirty thousand pounds, and joined in the plot against me." "These were vile
discoveries; but except for the treachery of concealment, I should have made
them no subject of reproach to my wife, even when I found her nature wholly
alien to mine, her tastes obnoxious to me, her cast of mind common, low, narrow,
and singularly incapable of being led to anything higher, expanded to anything
larger -- when I found that I could not pass a single evening, nor even a single
hour of the day with her in comfort; that kindly conversation could not be
sustained between us, because whatever topic I started, immediately received
from her a turn at once coarse and trite, perverse and imbecile -- when I
perceived that I should never have a quiet or settled household, because no
servant would bear the continued outbreaks of her violent and unreasonable
temper, or the vexations of her absurd, contradictory, exacting orders -- even
then I restrained myself: I eschewed upbraiding, I curtailed remonstrance; I
tried to devour my repentance and disgust in secret; I repressed the deep
antipathy I felt.
28 CHAPTER XXVIII
Instinctively I turned my face again to the village; I found the shop again, and
I went in; and though others were there besides the woman I ventured the request
-- "Would she give me a roll for this handkerchief?" She looked at me with
evident suspicion: "Nay, she never sold stuff i' that way." Almost desperate, I
asked for half a cake; she again refused.
It rains fast, Hannah: will you have the goodness to look at the fire in the
parlour?" The woman rose: she opened a door, through which I dimly saw a
passage: soon I heard her stir a fire in an inner room; she presently came back.
Where do you come from?" "I am a stranger." "What is your business here at this
hour?" "I want a night's shelter in an out-house or anywhere, and a morsel of
bread to eat." Distrust, the very feeling I dreaded, appeared in Hannah's face.
"All men must die," said a voice quite close at hand; "but all are not condemned
to meet a lingering and premature doom, such as yours would be if you perished
here of want." "Who or what speaks?" I asked, terrified at the unexpected sound,
and incapable now of deriving from any occurrence a hope of aid.
29 CHAPTER XXIX
I wonder what she has gone through?" "Strange hardships, I imagine -- poor,
emaciated, pallid wanderer?" "She is not an uneducated person, I should think,
by her manner of speaking; her accent was quite pure; and the clothes she took
off, though splashed and wet, were little worn and fine." "She has a peculiar
face; fleshless and haggard as it is, I rather like it; and when in good health
and animated, I can fancy her physiognomy would be agreeable." Never once in
their dialogues did I hear a syllable of regret at the hospitality they had
extended to me, or of suspicion of, or aversion to, myself.
And if you are inclined to despise the day of small things, seek some more
efficient succour than such as I can offer." "She has already said that she is
willing to do anything honest she can do," answered Diana for me; "and you know,
St. John, she has no choice of helpers: she is forced to put up with such crusty
people as you." "I will be a dressmaker; I will be a plain-workwoman; I will be
a servant, a nurse-girl, if I can be no better," I answered.
30 CHAPTER XXX
Diana and Mary were soon to leave Moor House, and return to the far different
life and scene which awaited them, as governesses in a large, fashionable,
south-of-England city, where each held a situation in families by whose wealthy
and haughty members they were regarded only as humble dependants, and who
neither knew nor sought out their innate excellences, and appreciated only their
acquired accomplishments as they appreciated the skill of their cook or the
taste of their waiting-woman.
"Yes; I wish to know whether you have heard of any service I can offer myself to
undertake?" "I found or devised something for you three weeks ago; but as you
seemed both useful and happy here -- as my sisters had evidently become attached
to you, and your society gave them unusual pleasure -- I deemed it inexpedient
to break in on your mutual comfort till their approaching departure from Marsh
End should render yours necessary." "And they will go in three days now?" I
said.
Diana and Mary Rivers became more sad and silent as the day approached for
leaving their brother and their home.
My father always cherished the idea that he would atone for his error by leaving
his possessions to us; that letter informs us that he has bequeathed every penny
to the other relation, with the exception of thirty guineas, to be divided
between St. John, Diana, and Mary Rivers, for the purchase of three mourning
rings.
31 CHAPTER XXXI
I must not forget that these coarsely-clad little peasants are of flesh and
blood as good as the scions of gentlest genealogy; and that the germs of native
excellence, refinement, intelligence, kind feeling, are as likely to exist in
their hearts as in those of the best-born.
Having brought my eventide musings to this point, I rose, went to my door, and
looked at the sunset of the harvest-day, and at the quiet fields before my
cottage, which, with the school, was distant half a mile from the village.
A dog -- old Carlo, Mr. Rivers' pointer, as I saw in a moment -- was pushing the
gate with his nose, and St. John himself leant upon it with folded arms; his
brow knit, his gaze, grave almost to displeasure, fixed on me.
What you had left before I saw you, of course I do not know; but I counsel you
to resist firmly every temptation which would incline you to look back: pursue
your present career steadily, for some months at least." "It is what I mean to
do," I answered.
32 CHAPTER XXXII
At this period of my life, my heart far oftener swelled with thankfulness than
sank with dejection: and yet, reader, to tell you all, in the midst of this
calm, this useful existence -- after a day passed in honourable exertion amongst
my scholars, an evening spent in drawing or reading contentedly alone -- I used
to rush into strange dreams at night: dreams many-coloured, agitated, full of
the ideal, the stirring, the stormy -- dreams where, amidst unusual scenes,
charged with adventure, with agitating risk and romantic chance, I still again
and again met Mr. Rochester, always at some exciting crisis; and then the sense
of being in his arms, hearing his voice, meeting his eye, touching his hand and
cheek, loving him, being loved by him -- the hope of passing a lifetime at his
side, would be renewed, with all its first force and fire.
And now it is deluged with a nectarous flood -- the young germs swamped --
delicious poison cankering them: now I see myself stretched on an ottoman in the
drawing-room at Vale Hall at my bride Rosamond Oliver's feet: she is talking to
me with her sweet voice -- gazing down on me with those eyes your skilful hand
has copied so well -- smiling at me with these coral lips.
33 CHAPTER XXXIII
"Mary Garrett's mother is better, and Mary came back to the school this morning,
and I shall have four new girls next week from the Foundry Close -- they would
have come to-day but for the snow." "Indeed!" "Mr. Oliver pays for two." "Does
he?" "He means to give the whole school a treat at Christmas." "I know." "Was it
your suggestion?" "No." "Whose, then?" "His daughter's, I think." "It is like
her: she is so good-natured." "Yes." Again came the blank of a pause: the clock
struck eight strokes.
Were you to argue, object, and annoy me for a year, I could not forego the
delicious pleasure of which I have caught a glimpse -- that of repaying, in
part, a mighty obligation, and winning to myself lifelong friends." "You think
so now," rejoined St. John, "because you do not know what it is to possess, nor
consequently to enjoy wealth: you cannot form a notion of the importance twenty
thousand pounds would give you; of the place it would enable you to take in
society; of the prospects it would open to you: you cannot -- " "And you," I
interrupted, "cannot at all imagine the craving I have for fraternal and
sisterly love.
34 CHAPTER XXXIV
You will see what impetus would be given to your efforts and mine by our
physical and mental union in marriage: the only union that gives a character of
permanent conformity to the destinies and designs of human beings; and, passing
over all minor caprices -- all trivial difficulties and delicacies of feeling --
all scruple about the degree, kind, strength or tenderness of mere personal
inclination -- you will hasten to enter into that union at once." "Shall I?" I
said briefly; and I looked at his features, beautiful in their harmony, but
strangely formidable in their still severity; at his brow, commanding but not
open; at his eyes, bright and deep and searching, but never soft; at his tall
imposing figure; and fancied myself in idea his wife .
35 CHAPTER XXXV
It was at all times pleasant to listen while from his lips fell the words of the
Bible: never did his fine voice sound at once so sweet and full -- never did his
manner become so impressive in its noble simplicity, as when he delivered the
oracles of God: and to-night that voice took a more solemn tone -- that manner a
more thrilling meaning -- as he sat in the midst of his household circle (the
May moon shining in through the uncurtained window, and rendering almost
unnecessary the light of the candle on the table): as he sat there, bending over
the great old Bible, and described from its page the vision of the new heaven
and the new earth -- told how God would come to dwell with men, how He would
wipe away all tears from their eyes, and promised that there should be no more
death, neither sorrow nor crying, nor any more pain, because the former things
were passed away.
"I could decide if I were but certain," I answered: "were I but convinced that
it is God's will I should marry you, I could vow to marry you here and now --
come afterwards what would!" "My prayers are heard!" ejaculated St. John.
36 CHAPTER XXXVI
"Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?" I asked, knowing, of course,
what the answer would be, but yet desirous of deferring the direct question as
to where he really was.
He would not cross the door-stones of the house, except at night, when he walked
just like a ghost about the grounds and in the orchard as if he had lost his
senses -- which it is my opinion he had; for a more spirited, bolder, keener
gentleman than he was before that midge of a governess crossed him, you never
saw, ma'am.
I knew him from a boy, you see: and for my part, I have often wished that Miss
Eyre had been sunk in the sea before she came to Thornfield Hall." "Then Mr.
Rochester was at home when the fire broke out?" "Yes, indeed was he; and he went
up to the attics when all was burning above and below, and got the servants out
of their beds and helped them down himself, and went back to get his mad wife
out of her cell.
37 CHAPTER XXXVII
A rich woman?" "If you won't let me live with you, I can build a house of my own
close up to your door, and you may come and sit in my parlour when you want
company of an evening." "But as you are rich, Jane, you have now, no doubt,
friends who will look after you, and not suffer you to devote yourself to a
blind lameter like me?" "I told you I am independent, sir, as well as rich: I am
my own mistress." "And you will stay with me?" "Certainly -- unless you object.
The wickedness has not been taken out of you, wherever you have sojourned." "Yet
I have been with good people; far better than you: a hundred times better
people; possessed of ideas and views you never entertained in your life: quite
more refined and exalted." "Who the deuce have you been with?" "If you twist in
that way you will make me pull the hair out of your head; and then I think you
will cease to entertain doubts of my substantiality." "Who have you been with,
Jane?" "You shall not get it out of me to-night, sir; you must wait till to-
morrow; to leave my tale half told, will, you know, be a sort of security that I
shall appear at your breakfast table to finish it.
38 CHAPTER XXXVIII -- CONCLUSION
When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen of the manor-house, where
Mary was cooking the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said -- "Mary, I
have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning." The housekeeper and her
husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of people, to whom one may at
any time safely communicate a remarkable piece of news without incurring the
danger of having one's ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently
stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment.
"She had better not wait till then, Jane," said Mr. Rochester, when I read her
letter to him; "if she does, she will be too late, for our honeymoon will shine
our life long: its beams will only fade over your grave or mine." How St. John
received the news, I don't know: he never answered the letter in which I
communicated it: yet six months after he wrote to me, without, however,
mentioning Mr. Rochester's name or alluding to my marriage.