牛津書蟲第6級6-01.Jane Eyre Chapter 22

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Chapter22

Mr.Rochesterhadgivenmebutoneweek’sleaveofabsence:yetamonthelapsedbeforeIquittedGateshead.Iwishedtoleaveimmediatelyafterthefuneral,butGeorgianaentreatedmetostaytillshecouldgetofftoLondon,whithershewasnowatlastinvitedbyheruncle,Mr.Gibson,whohadcomedowntodirecthissister’sintermentandsettlethefamilyaffairs.GeorgianasaidshedreadedbeingleftalonewithEliza;fromhershegotneithersympathyinherdejection,supportinherfears,noraidinherpreparations;soIborewithherfeeble-mindedwailingsandselfishlamentationsaswellasIcould,anddidmybestinsewingforherandpackingherdresses.Itistrue,thatwhileIworked,shewouldidle;andIthoughttomyself,“IfyouandIweredestinedtolivealwaystogether,cousin,wewouldcommencemattersonadifferentfooting.Ishouldnotsettletamelydownintobeingtheforbearingparty;Ishouldassignyouyourshareoflabour,andcompelyoutoaccomplishit,orelseitshouldbeleftundone:Ishouldinsist,also,onyourkeepingsomeofthosedrawling,half-insincerecomplaintshushedinyourownbreast.Itisonlybecauseourconnectionhappenstobeverytransitory,andcomesatapeculiarlymournfulseason,thatIconsentthustorenderitsopatientandcompliantonmypart.”

AtlastIsawGeorgianaoff;butnowitwasEliza’sturntorequestmetostayanotherweek.Herplansrequiredallhertimeandattention,shesaid;shewasaboutto

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departforsomeunknownbourne;andalldaylongshestayedinherownroom,herdoorboltedwithin,fillingtrunks,emptyingdrawers,burningpapers,andholdingnocommunicationwithanyone.Shewishedmetolookafterthehouse,toseecallers,andanswernotesofcondolence.

OnemorningshetoldmeIwasatliberty.“And,”sheadded,“Iamobligedtoyouforyourvaluableservicesanddiscreetconduct!ThereissomedifferencebetweenlivingwithsuchanoneasyouandwithGeorgiana:youperformyourownpartinlifeandburdennoone.To-morrow,”shecontinued,“IsetoutfortheContinent.IshalltakeupmyabodeinareligioushousenearLisle—anunneryyouwouldcallit;thereIshallbequietandunmolested.IshalldevotemyselfforatimetotheexaminationoftheRomanCatholicdogmas,andtoacarefulstudyoftheworkingsoftheirsystem:ifIfindittobe,asIhalfsuspectitis,theonebestcalculatedtoensurethedoingofallthingsdecentlyandinorder,IshallembracethetenetsofRomeandprobablytaketheveil.”

Ineitherexpressedsurpriseatthisresolutionnorattemptedtodissuadeherfromit.“Thevocationwillfityoutoahair,”Ithought:“muchgoodmayitdoyou!”

Whenweparted,shesaid:“Good-bye,cousinJaneEyre;Iwishyouwell:youhavesomesense.”

Ithenreturned:“Youarenotwithoutsense,cousinEliza;butwhatyouhave,Isuppose,inanotheryearwillbewalledupaliveinaFrenchconvent.However,itis

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notmybusiness,andsoitsuitsyou,Idon’tmuchcare.”

“Youareintheright,”saidshe;andwiththesewordsweeachwentourseparateway.AsIshallnothaveoccasiontorefereithertoherorhersisteragain,Imayaswellmentionhere,thatGeorgianamadeanadvantageousmatchwithawealthyworn-outmanoffashion,andthatElizaactuallytooktheveil,andisatthisdaysuperioroftheconventwhereshepassedtheperiodofhernovitiate,andwhichsheendowedwithherfortune.

Howpeoplefeelwhentheyarereturninghomefromanabsence,longorshort,Ididnotknow:Ihadneverexperiencedthesensation.IhadknownwhatitwastocomebacktoGatesheadwhenachildafteralongwalk,tobescoldedforlookingcoldorgloomy;andlater,whatitwastocomebackfromchurchtoLowood,tolongforaplenteousmealandagoodfire,andtobeunabletogeteither.Neitherofthesereturningswasverypleasantordesirable:nomagnetdrewmetoagivenpoint,increasinginitsstrengthofattractionthenearerIcame.ThereturntoThornfieldwasyettobetried.

Myjourneyseemedtedious—verytedious:fiftymilesoneday,anightspentataninn;fiftymilesthenextday.DuringthefirsttwelvehoursIthoughtofMrs.Reedinherlastmoments;Isawherdisfiguredanddiscolouredface,andheardherstrangelyalteredvoice.Imusedonthefuneralday,thecoffin,thehearse,the

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blacktrainoftenantsandservants—fewwasthenumberofrelatives—thegapingvault,thesilentchurch,thesolemnservice.ThenIthoughtofElizaandGeorgiana;Ibeheldonethecynosureofaball-room,theothertheinmateofaconventcell;andIdweltonandanalysedtheirseparatepeculiaritiesofpersonandcharacter.Theeveningarrivalatthegreattownof—scatteredthesethoughts;nightgavethemquiteanotherturn:laiddownonmytraveller’sbed,Ileftreminiscenceforanticipation.

IwasgoingbacktoThornfield:buthowlongwasItostaythere?Notlong;ofthatIwassure.IhadheardfromMrs.Fairfaxintheinterimofmyabsence:thepartyatthehallwasdispersed;Mr.RochesterhadleftforLondonthreeweeksago,buthewasthenexpectedtoreturninafortnight.Mrs.Fairfaxsurmisedthathewasgonetomakearrangementsforhiswedding,ashehadtalkedofpurchasinganewcarriage:shesaidtheideaofhismarryingMissIngramstillseemedstrangetoher;butfromwhateverybodysaid,andfromwhatshehadherselfseen,shecouldnolongerdoubtthattheeventwouldshortlytakeplace.“Youwouldbestrangelyincredulousifyoudiddoubtit,”wasmymentalcomment.“Idon’tdoubtit.”

Thequestionfollowed,“WherewasItogo?”IdreamtofMissIngramallthenight:inavividmorningdreamIsawherclosingthegatesofThornfieldagainstmeandpointingmeoutanotherroad;andMr.Rochesterlookedonwithhisarmsfolded—smilingsardonically,asitseemed,atbothherandme.

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IhadnotnotifiedtoMrs.Fairfaxtheexactdayofmyreturn;forIdidnotwisheithercarorcarriagetomeetmeatMillcote.Iproposedtowalkthedistancequietlybymyself;andveryquietly,afterleavingmyboxintheostler’scare,didIslipawayfromtheGeorgeInn,aboutsixo’clockofaJuneevening,andtaketheoldroadtoThornfield:aroadwhichlaychieflythroughfields,andwasnowlittlefrequented.

Itwasnotabrightorsplendidsummerevening,thoughfairandsoft:thehaymakerswereatworkallalongtheroad;andthesky,thoughfarfromcloudless,wassuchaspromisedwellforthefuture:itsblue—wherebluewasvisible—wasmildandsettled,anditscloudstratahighandthin.Thewest,too,waswarm:nowaterygleamchilledit—itseemedasiftherewasafirelit,analtarburningbehinditsscreenofmarbledvapour,andoutofaperturesshoneagoldenredness.

Ifeltgladastheroadshortenedbeforeme:sogladthatIstoppedoncetoaskmyselfwhatthatjoymeant:andtoremindreasonthatitwasnottomyhomeIwasgoing,ortoapermanentresting-place,ortoaplacewherefondfriendslookedoutformeandwaitedmyarrival.“Mrs.Fairfaxwillsmileyouacalmwelcome,tobesure,”saidI;“andlittleAdelewillclapherhandsandjumptoseeyou:butyouknowverywellyouarethinkingofanotherthanthey,andthatheisnotthinkingofyou.”

Butwhatissoheadstrongasyouth?Whatsoblindasinexperience?Theseaffirmedthatitwaspleasure

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enoughtohavetheprivilegeofagainlookingonMr.Rochester,whetherhelookedonmeornot;andtheyadded—“Hasten!hasten!bewithhimwhileyoumay:butafewmoredaysorweeks,atmost,andyouarepartedfromhimforever!”AndthenIstrangledanew-bornagony—adeformedthingwhichIcouldnotpersuademyselftoownandrear—andranon.

Theyaremakinghay,too,inThornfieldmeadows:orrather,thelabourersarejustquittingtheirwork,andreturninghomewiththeirrakesontheirshoulders,now,atthehourIarrive.Ihavebutafieldortwototraverse,andthenIshallcrosstheroadandreachthegates.Howfullthehedgesareofroses!ButIhavenotimetogatherany;Iwanttobeatthehouse.Ipassedatallbriar,shootingleafyandflowerybranchesacrossthepath;Iseethenarrowstilewithstonesteps;andIsee—Mr.Rochestersittingthere,abookandapencilinhishand;heiswriting.

Well,heisnotaghost;yeteverynerveIhaveisunstrung:foramomentIambeyondmyownmastery.Whatdoesitmean?IdidnotthinkIshouldtrembleinthiswaywhenIsawhim,orlosemyvoiceorthepowerofmotioninhispresence.IwillgobackassoonasIcanstir:Ineednotmakeanabsolutefoolofmyself.Iknowanotherwaytothehouse.ItdoesnotsignifyifIknewtwentyways;forhehasseenme.

“Hillo!”hecries;andheputsuphisbookandhispencil.“Thereyouare!Comeon,ifyouplease.”

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IsupposeIdocomeon;thoughinwhatfashionIknownot;beingscarcelycognisantofmymovements,andsolicitousonlytoappearcalm;and,aboveall,tocontroltheworkingmusclesofmyface—whichIfeelrebelinsolentlyagainstmywill,andstruggletoexpresswhatIhadresolvedtoconceal.ButIhaveaveil—itisdown:Imaymakeshiftyettobehavewithdecentcomposure.

“AndthisisJaneEyre?AreyoucomingfromMillcote,andonfoot?Yes—justoneofyourtricks:nottosendforacarriage,andcomeclatteringoverstreetandroadlikeacommonmortal,buttostealintothevicinageofyourhomealongwithtwilight,justasifyouwereadreamorashade.Whatthedeucehaveyoudonewithyourselfthislastmonth?”

“Ihavebeenwithmyaunt,sir,whoisdead.”

“AtrueJanianreply!Goodangelsbemyguard!Shecomesfromtheotherworld—fromtheabodeofpeoplewhoaredead;andtellsmesowhenshemeetsmealonehereinthegloaming!IfIdared,I’dtouchyou,toseeifyouaresubstanceorshadow,youelf!—butI’dassoonoffertotakeholdofablueignisfatuuslightinamarsh.Truant!truant!”headded,whenhehadpausedaninstant.“Absentfrommeawholemonth,andforgettingmequite,I’llbesworn!”

Iknewtherewouldbepleasureinmeetingmymasteragain,eventhoughbrokenbythefearthathewassosoontoceasetobemymaster,andbytheknowledgethatIwasnothingtohim:buttherewaseverinMr.

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Rochester(soatleastIthought)suchawealthofthepowerofcommunicatinghappiness,thattotastebutofthecrumbshescatteredtostrayandstrangerbirdslikeme,wastofeastgenially.Hislastwordswerebalm:theyseemedtoimplythatitimportedsomethingtohimwhetherIforgothimornot.AndhehadspokenofThornfieldasmyhome—wouldthatitweremyhome!

Hedidnotleavethestile,andIhardlylikedtoasktogoby.IinquiredsoonifhehadnotbeentoLondon.

“Yes;Isupposeyoufoundthatoutbysecond-sight.”“Mrs.Fairfaxtoldmeinaletter.”

“AnddidsheinformyouwhatIwenttodo?”“Oh,yes,sir!Everybodyknewyourerrand.”

“Youmustseethecarriage,Jane,andtellmeifyoudon’tthinkitwillsuitMrs.Rochesterexactly;andwhethershewon’tlooklikeQueenBoadicea,leaningbackagainstthosepurplecushions.Iwish,Jane,Iwereatriflebetteradaptedtomatchwithherexternally.Tellmenow,fairyasyouare—can’tyougivemeacharm,oraphilter,orsomethingofthatsort,tomakemeahandsomeman?”

“Itwouldbepastthepowerofmagic,sir;”and,inthought,Iadded,“Alovingeyeisallthecharmneeded:tosuchyouarehandsomeenough;orratheryoursternnesshasapowerbeyondbeauty.”

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Mr.Rochesterhadsometimesreadmyunspokenthoughtswithanacumentomeincomprehensible:inthepresentinstancehetooknonoticeofmyabruptvocalresponse;buthesmiledatmewithacertainsmilehehadofhisown,andwhichheusedbutonrareoccasions.Heseemedtothinkittoogoodforcommonpurposes:itwastherealsunshineoffeeling—hesheditovermenow.

“Pass,Janet,”saidhe,makingroomformetocrossthestile:“gouphome,andstayyourwearylittlewanderingfeetatafriend’sthreshold.”

AllIhadnowtodowastoobeyhiminsilence:noneedformetocolloquisefurther.Igotoverthestilewithoutaword,andmeanttoleavehimcalmly.Animpulseheldmefast—aforceturnedmeround.Isaid—orsomethinginmesaidforme,andinspiteofme-

“Thankyou,Mr.Rochester,foryourgreatkindness.Iamstrangelygladtogetbackagaintoyou:andwhereveryouareismyhome—myonlyhome.”

Iwalkedonsofastthatevenhecouldhardlyhaveovertakenmehadhetried.LittleAdelewashalfwildwithdelightwhenshesawme.Mrs.Fairfaxreceivedmewithherusualplainfriendliness.Leahsmiled,andevenSophiebidme“bonsoir”withglee.Thiswasverypleasant;thereisnohappinesslikethatofbeinglovedbyyourfellow-creatures,andfeelingthatyourpresenceisanadditiontotheircomfort.

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Ithateveningshutmyeyesresolutelyagainstthefuture:Istoppedmycarsagainstthevoicethatkeptwarningmeofnearseparationandcominggrief.WhenteawasoverandMrs.Fairfaxhadtakenherknitting,andIhadassumedalowseatnearher,andAdele,kneelingonthecarpet,hadnestledcloseuptome,andasenseofmutualaffectionseemedtosurrounduswitharingofgoldenpeace,Iutteredasilentprayerthatwemightnotbepartedfarorsoon;butwhen,aswethussat,Mr.Rochesterentered,unannounced,andlookingatus,seemedtotakepleasureinthespectacleofagroupsoamicable—whenhesaidhesupposedtheoldladywasallrightnowthatshehadgotheradopteddaughterbackagain,andaddedthathesawAdelewas“preteecroquersapetitemamanAnglaise”—Ihalfventuredtohopethathewould,evenafterhismarriage