简.爱 英文版 Jane Eyre
夏洛蒂.勃朗特 Charlotte Bronte
CHAPTER XII
The promise of a smooth career, which my first calm introductionto Thornfield Hall seemed to pledge, was not belied on a longeracquaintance with the place and its inmates. Mrs. Fairfax turnedout to be what she appeared, a placid-tempered, kind-natured woman,of competent education and average intelligence. My pupil was alively child, who had been spoilt and indulged, and therefore wassometimes wayward; but as she was committed entirely to my care,and no injudicious interference from any quarter ever thwarted myplans for her improvement, she soon forgot her little freaks, andbecame obedient and teachable. She had no great talents, no markedtraits of character, no peculiar development of feeling or tastewhich raised her one inch above the ordinary level of childhood;but neither had she any deficiency or vice which sunk her belowit. She made reasonable progress, entertained for me a vivacious,though perhaps not very profound, affection; and by her simplicity,gay prattle, and efforts to please, inspired me, in return, witha degree of attachment sufficient to make us both content in eachother's society.
This, par parenthese, will be thought cool language by persons whoentertain solemn doctrines about the angelic nature of children,and the duty of those charged with their education to conceivefor them an idolatrous devotion: but I am not writing to flatterparental egotism, to echo cant, or prop up humbug; I am merelytelling the truth. I felt a conscientious solicitude for Adele'swelfare and progress, and a quiet liking for her little self: justas I cherished towards Mrs. Fairfax a thankfulness for her kindness,and a pleasure in her society proportionate to the tranquil regardshe had for me, and the moderation of her mind and character.
Anybody may blame me who likes, when I add further, that, now andthen, when I took a walk by myself in the grounds; when I wentdown to the gates and looked through them along the road; or when,while Adele played with her nurse, and Mrs. Fairfax made jellies inthe storeroom, I climbed the three staircases, raised the trap-doorof the attic, and having reached the leads, looked out afar oversequestered field and hill, and along dim sky-line -- that thenI longed for a power of vision which might overpass that limit;which might reach the busy world, towns, regions full of life I hadheard of but never seen -- that then I desired more of practicalexperience than I possessed; more of intercourse with my kind, ofacquaintance with variety of character, than was here within myreach. I valued what was good in Mrs. Fairfax, and what was goodin Adele; but I believed in the existence of other and more vividkinds of goodness, and what I believed in I wished to behold.
Who blames me? Many, no doubt; and I shall be called discontented.I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitatedme to pain sometimes. Then my sole relief was to walk along thecorridor of the third storey, backwards and forwards, safe in thesilence and solitude of the spot, and allow my mind's eye to dwellon whatever bright visions rose before it -- and, certainly, theywere many and glowing; to let my heart be heaved by the exultantmovement, which, while it swelled it in trouble, expanded itwith life; and, best of all, to open my inward ear to a tale thatwas never ended -- a tale my imagination created, and narratedcontinuously; quickened with all of incident, life, fire, feeling,that I desired and had not in my actual existence.
It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied withtranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it ifthey cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom thanmine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobodyknows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment inthe masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to bevery calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they needexercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, asmuch as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint,too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and itis narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to saythat they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knittingstockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It isthoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to domore or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for theirsex.
When thus alone, I not unfrequently heard Grace Poole's laugh: thesame peal, the same low, slow ha! ha! which, when first heard,had thrilled me: I heard, too, her eccentric murmurs; strangerthan her laugh. There were days when she was quite silent; butthere were others when I could not account for the sounds she made.Sometimes I saw her: she would come out of her room with a basin,or a plate, or a tray in her hand, go down to the kitchen andshortly return, generally (oh, romantic reader, forgive me fortelling the plain truth!) bearing a pot of porter. Her appearancealways acted as a damper to the curiosity raised by her oral oddities:hard-featured and staid, she had no point to which interest couldattach. I made some attempts to draw her into conversation, butshe seemed a person of few words: a monosyllabic reply usuallycut short every effort of that sort.
The other members of the household, viz. , John and his wife, Leahthe housemaid, and Sophie the French nurse, were decent people;but in no respect remarkable; with Sophie I used to talk French,and sometimes I asked her questions about her native country; butshe was not of a descriptive or narrative turn, and generally gavesuch vapid and confused answers as were calculated rather to checkthan encourage inquiry.
October, November, December passed away. One afternoon in January,Mrs. Fairfax had begged a holiday for Adele, because she had a cold;and, as Adele seconded the request with an ardour that reminded mehow precious occasional holidays had been to me in my own childhood,I accorded it, deeming that I did well in showing pliability on thepoint. It was a fine, calm day, though very cold; I was tired ofsitting still in the library through a whole long morning: Mrs.Fairfax had just written a letter which was waiting to be posted,so I put on my bonnet and cloak and volunteered to carry it toHay; the distance, two miles, would be a pleasant winter afternoonwalk. Having seen Adele comfortably seated in her little chair byMrs. Fairfax's parlour fireside, and given her her best wax doll(which I usually kept enveloped in silver paper in a drawer) toplay with, and a story-book for change of amusement; and havingreplied to her "Revenez bientot, ma bonne amie, ma chere Mdlle.Jeannette, " with a kiss I set out.
The ground was hard, the air was still, my road was lonely; Iwalked fast till I got warm, and then I walked slowly to enjoy andanalyse the species of pleasure brooding for me in the hour andsituation. It was three o'clock; the church bell tolled as I passedunder the belfry: the charm of the hour lay in its approachingdimness, in the low-gliding and pale-beaming sun. I was a milefrom Thornfield, in a lane noted for wild roses in summer, for nutsand blackberries in autumn, and even now possessing a few coraltreasures in hips and haws, but whose best winter delight lay inits utter solitude and leafless repose. If a breath of air stirred,it made no sound here; for there was not a holly, not an evergreento rustle, and the stripped hawthorn and hazel bushes were as stillas the white, worn stones which causewayed the middle of the path.Far and wide, on each side, there were only fields, where no cattlenow browsed; and the little brown birds, which stirred occasionallyin the hedge, looked like single russet leaves that had forgottento drop.
This lane inclined up-hill all the way to Hay; having reachedthe middle, I sat down on a stile which led thence into a field.Gathering my mantle about me, and sheltering my hands in my muff,I did not feel the cold, though it froze keenly; as was attestedby a sheet of ice covering the causeway, where a little brooklet,now congealed, had overflowed after a rapid thaw some days since.From my seat I could look down on Thornfield: the grey andbattlemented hall was the principal object in the vale below me;its woods and dark rookery rose against the west. I lingered tillthe sun went down amongst the trees, and sank crimson and clearbehind them. I then turned eastward.
On the hill-top above me sat the rising moon; pale yet as a cloud,but brightening momentarily, she looked over Hay, which, half lostin trees, sent up a blue smoke from its few chimneys: it was yeta mile distant, but in the absolute hush I could hear plainly itsthin murmurs of life. My ear, too, felt the flow of currents; inwhat dales and depths I could not tell: but there were many hillsbeyond Hay, and doubtless many becks threading their passes. Thatevening calm betrayed alike the tinkle of the nearest streams, thesough of the most remote.
A rude noise broke on these fine ripplings and whisperings, atonce so far away and so clear: a positive tramp, tramp, a metallicclatter, which effaced the soft wave-wanderings; as, in a picture,the solid mass of a crag, or the rough boles of a great oak, drawnin dark and strong on the foreground, efface the aerial distanceof azure hill, sunny horizon, and blended clouds where tint meltsinto tint.
The din was on the causeway: a horse was coming; the windings ofthe lane yet hid it, but it approached. I was just leaving thestile; yet, as the path was narrow, I sat still to let it go by.In those days I was young, and all sorts of fancies bright anddark tenanted my mind: the memories of nursery stories were thereamongst other rubbish; and when they recurred, maturing youth addedto them a vigour and vividness beyond what childhood could give.As this horse approached, and as I watched for it to appear throughthe dusk, I remembered certain of Bessie's tales, wherein figureda North-of-England spirit called a "Gytrash, " which, in the formof horse, mule, or large dog, haunted solitary ways, and sometimescame upon belated travellers, as this horse was now coming uponme.
It was very near, but not yet in sight; when, in addition to thetramp, tramp, I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by thehazel stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour madehim a distinct object against the trees. It was exactly one formof Bessie's Gytrash -- a lion-like creature with long hair anda huge head: it passed me, however, quietly enough; not stayingto look up, with strange pretercanine eyes, in my face, as I halfexpected it would. The horse followed, -- a tall steed, and on itsback a rider. The man, the human being, broke the spell at once.Nothing ever rode the Gytrash: it was always alone; and goblins,to my notions, though they might tenant the dumb carcasses ofbeasts, could scarce covet shelter in the commonplace human form.No Gytrash was this, -- only a traveller taking the short cut toMillcote. He passed, and I went on; a few steps, and I turned: asliding sound and an exclamation of "What the deuce is to do now?"and a clattering tumble, arrested my attention. Man and horsewere down; they had slipped on the sheet of ice which glazed thecauseway. The dog came bounding back, and seeing his master in apredicament, and hearing the horse groan, barked till the eveninghills echoed the sound, which was deep in proportion to hismagnitude. He snuffed round the prostrate group, and then he ranup to me; it was all he could do, -- there was no other help athand to summon. I obeyed him, and walked down to the traveller, bythis time struggling himself free of his steed. His efforts wereso vigorous, I thought he could not be much hurt; but Iasked him the question -
"Are you injured, sir?"
I think he was swearing, but am not certain; however, he waspronouncing some formula which prevented him from replying to medirectly.
"Can I do anything?" I asked again.
"You must just stand on one side, " he answered as he rose, first tohis knees, and then to his feet. I did; whereupon began a heaving,stamping, clattering process, accompanied by a barking and bayingwhich removed me effectually some yards' distance; but I wouldnot be driven quite away till I saw the event. This was finallyfortunate; the horse was re-established, and the dog was silencedwith a "Down, Pilot!" The traveller now, stooping, felt his footand leg, as if trying whether they were sound; apparently somethingailed them, for he halted to the stile whence I had just risen,and sat down.
I was in the mood for being useful, or at least officious, I think,for I now drew near him again.
"If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch some one eitherfrom Thornfield Hall or from Hay. "
"Thank you: I shall do: I have no broken bones, -- only a sprain;"and again he stood up and tried his foot, but the result extortedan involuntary "Ugh!"
Something of daylight still lingered, and the moon was waxingbright: I could see him plainly. His figure was enveloped in ariding cloak, fur collared and steel clasped; its details were notapparent, but I traced the general points of middle height andconsiderable breadth of chest. He had a dark face, with sternfeatures and a heavy brow; his eyes and gathered eyebrows lookedireful and thwarted just now; he was past youth, but had not reachedmiddle-age; perhaps he might be thirty-five. I felt no fear ofhim, and but little shyness. Had he been a handsome, heroic-lookingyoung gentleman, I should not have dared to stand thus questioninghim against his will, and offering my services unasked. I hadhardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one.I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance,gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnatein masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that theyneither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and shouldhave shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything elsethat is bright but antipathetic.
If even this stranger had smiled and been good-humoured to me whenI addressed him; if he had put off my offer of assistance gaily andwith thanks, I should have gone on my way and not felt any vocationto renew inquiries: but the frown, the roughness of the traveller,set me at my ease: I retained my station when he wavedto me to go, and announced -
"I cannot think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour, in thissolitary lane, till I see you are fit to mount your horse. "
He looked at me when I said this; he had hardly turned his eyes inmy direction before.
"I should think you ought to be at home yourself, " said he, "ifyou have a home in this neighbourhood: where do you come from?"
"From just below; and I am not at all afraid of being out late whenit is moonlight: I will run over to Hay for you with pleasure, ifyou wish it: indeed, I am going there to post a letter. "
"You live just below -- do you mean at that house with thebattlements?" pointing to Thornfield Hall, on which the moon casta hoary gleam, bringing it out distinct and pale from the woods that,by contrast with the western sky, now seemed one mass of shadow.
"Yes, sir. "
"Whose house is it?"
"Mr. Rochester's. "
"Do you know Mr. Rochester?"
"No, I have never seen him. "
hollowfilled with rayless cells, as it appeared to me -- to that skyexpanded before ?
"He is not resident, then?"
"No. "
"Can you tell me where he is?"
"I cannot. "
"You are not a servant at the hall, of course. You are -- "He stopped, ran his eye over my dress, which, as usual, was quitesimple: a black merino cloak, a black beaver bonnet; neitherof them half fine enough for a lady's-maid. He seemed puzzled todecide what I was; I helped him.
"I am the governess. "
"Ah, the governess!" he repeated; "deuce take me, if I had notforgotten! The governess!" and again my raiment underwent scrutiny.In two minutes he rose from the stile: his face expressed painwhen he tried to move.
"I cannot commission you to fetch help, " he said; "but you may helpme a little yourself, if you will be so kind. "
"Yes, sir. "
"You have not an umbrella that I can use as a stick?"
"No. "
"Try to get hold of my horse's bridle and lead him to me: you arenot afraid?"
I should have been afraid to touch a horse when alone, but whentold to do it, I was disposed to obey. I put down my muff on thestile, and went up to the tall steed; I endeavoured to catch thebridle, but it was a spirited thing, and would not let me comenear its head; I made effort on effort, though in vain: meantime,I was mortally afraid of its trampling fore-feet. The travellerwaited and watched for some time, and at last he laughed.
"I see, " he said, "the mountain will never be brought to Mahomet,so all you can do is to aid Mahomet to go to the mountain; I mustbeg of you to come here. "
I came. "Excuse me, " he continued: "necessity compels me to makeyou useful. " He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and leaning onme with some stress, limped to his horse. Having once caught thebridle, he mastered it directly and sprang to his saddle; grimacinggrimly as he made the effort, for it wrenched his sprain.
"Now, " said he, releasing his under lip from a hard bite, "justhand me my whip; it lies there under the hedge. "
I sought it and found it.
"Thank you; now make haste with the letter to Hay, and return asfast as you can. "
A touch of a spurred heel made his horse first start and rear, andthen bound away; the dog rushed in his traces; all three vanished,
"Like heath that, in the wilderness, The wild wind whirls away. "
I took up my muff and walked on. The incident had occurred andwas gone for me: it WAS an incident of no moment, no romance,no interest in a sense; yet it marked with change one single hourof a monotonous life. My help had been needed and claimed; I hadgiven it: I was pleased to have done something; trivial, transitorythough the deed was, it was yet an active thing, and I was wearyof an existence all passive. The new face, too, was like a newpicture introduced to the gallery of memory; and it was dissimilarto all the others hanging there: firstly, because it was masculine;and, secondly, because it was dark, strong, and stern. I had itstill before me when I entered Hay, and slipped the letter intothe post- office; I saw it as I walked fast down-hill all the wayhome. When I came to the stile, I stopped a minute, looked roundand listened, with an idea that a horse's hoofs might ring on thecauseway again, and that a rider in a cloak, and a Gytrash-likeNewfoundland dog, might be again apparent: I saw only the hedgeand a pollard willow before me, rising up still and straight tomeet the moonbeams; I heard only the faintest waft of wind roamingfitful among the trees round Thornfield, a mile distant; and whenI glanced down in the direction of the murmur, my eye, traversingthe hall-front, caught a light kindling in a window: it remindedme that I was late, and I hurried on.
I did not like re-entering Thornfield. To pass its threshold wasto return to stagnation; to cross the silent hall, to ascend thedarksome staircase, to seek my own lonely little room, and then tomeet tranquil Mrs. Fairfax, and spend the long winter evening withher, and her only, was to quell wholly the faint excitement wakenedby my walk, -- to slip again over my faculties the viewless fettersof an uniform and too still existence; of an existence whosevery privileges of security and ease I was becoming incapable ofappreciating. What good it would have done me at that time to havebeen tossed in the storms of an uncertain struggling life, and tohave been taught by rough and bitter experience to long for thecalm amidst which I now repined! Yes, just as much good as itwould do a man tired of sitting still in a "too easy chair" to takea long walk: and just as natural was the wish to stir, under mycircumstances, as it would be under his.
I lingered at the gates; I lingered on the lawn; I paced backwardsand forwards on the pavement; the shutters of the glass door wereclosed; I could not see into the interior; and both my eyes andspirit seemed drawn from the gloomy house -- from the grey-hollowfilled with rayless cells, as it appeared to me -- to that skyexpanded before me, -- a blue sea absolved from taint of cloud;the moon ascending it in solemn march; her orb seeming to look upas she left the hill-tops, from behind which she had come, far andfarther below her, and aspired to the zenith, midnight dark in itsfathomless depth and measureless distance; and for those tremblingstars that followed her course; they made my heart tremble, myveins glow when I viewed them. Little things recall us to earth;the clock struck in the hall; that sufficed; I turned from moonand stars, opened a side-door, and went in.
The hall was not dark, nor yet was it lit, only by the high-hungbronze lamp; a warm glow suffused both it and the lower steps of theoak staircase. This ruddy shine issued from the great dining-room,whose two-leaved door stood open, and showed a genial fire in thegrate, glancing on marble hearth and brass fire-irons, and revealingpurple draperies and polished furniture, in the most pleasantradiance. It revealed, too, a group near the mantelpiece: I hadscarcely caught it, and scarcely become aware of a cheerful minglingof voices, amongst which I seemed to distinguish the tones of Adele,when the door closed.
I hastened to Mrs. Fairfax's room; there was a fire there too,but no candle, and no Mrs. Fairfax. Instead, all alone, sittingupright on the rug, and gazing with gravity at the blaze, I behelda great black and white long-haired dog, just like the Gytrash ofthe lane. It was so like it that I went forward and said -- "Pilot"and the thing got up and came to me and snuffed me. I caressedhim, and he wagged his great tail; but he looked an eerie creatureto be alone with, and I could not tell whence he had come. Irang the bell, for I wanted a candle; and I wanted, too, to get anaccount of this visitant. Leah entered.
"What dog is this?"
"He came with master. "
"With whom?"
"With master -- Mr. Rochester -- he is just arrived. "
"Indeed! and is Mrs. Fairfax with him?"
"Yes, and Miss Adele; they are in the dining-room, and John is gonefor a surgeon; for master has had an accident; his horse fell andhis ankle is sprained. "
"Did the horse fall in Hay Lane?"
"Ah! Bring me a candle will you Leah?"
Leah brought it; she entered, followed by Mrs. Fairfax, who repeatedthe news; adding that Mr. Carter the surgeon was come, and was nowwith Mr. Rochester: then she hurried out to give orders about tea,and I went upstairs to take off my things.