波波小说

第61部分（第1页）

r　breath；　in　the　second　place；　you　cannot　yet　accustom　yourself　to　accuse　and　revile　me；　and　besides；　the　flood…gates　of　tears　are　opened；　and　they　would　rush　out　if　you　spoke　much；　and　you　have　no　desire　to　expostulate；　to　upbraid；　to　make　a　scene：　you　are　thinking　how　to　act—talking　you　consider　is　of　no　use。　I　know　you—I　am　on　my　guard。”

“Sir；　I　do　not　wish　to　act　against　you；”　I　said；　and　my　unsteady　voice　warned　me　to　curtail　my　sentence。

“Not　in　your　sense　of　the　word；　but　in　mine　you　are　scheming　to　destroy　me。　You　have　as　good　as　said　that　I　am　a　married　man—as　a　married　man　you　will　shun　me；　keep　out　of　my　way：　just　now　you　have　refused　to　kiss　me。　You　intend　to　make　yourself　a　plete　stranger　to　me：　to　live　under　this　roof　only　as　Adèle’s　governess；　if　ever　I　say　a　friendly　word　to　you；　if　ever　a　friendly　feeling　inclines　you　again　to　me；　you　will　say；—‘That　man　had　nearly　made　me　his　mistress：　I　must　be　ice　and　rock　to　him；’　and　ice　and　rock　you　will　accordingly　bee。”

I　cleared　and　steadied　my　voice　to　reply：　“All　is　changed　about　me；　sir；　I　must　change　too—there　is　no　doubt　of　that；　and　to　avoid　fluctuations　of　feeling；　and　continual　bats　with　recollections　and　associations；　there　is　only　one　way—Adèle　must　have　a　new　governess；　sir。”

“Oh；　Adèle　will　go　to　school—I　have　settled　that　already；　nor　do　I　mean　to　torment　you　with　the　hideous　associations　and　recollections　of　Thornfield　Hall—this　accursed　place—this　tent　of　Achan—this　insolent　vault；　offering　the　ghastliness　of　living　death　to　the　light　of　the　open　sky—this　narrow　stone　hell；　with　its　one　real　fiend；　worse　than　a　legion　of　such　as　we　imagine。　Jane；　you　shall　not　stay　here；　nor　will　I。　I　was　wrong　ever　to　bring　you　to　Thornfield　Hall；　knowing　as　I　did　how　it　was　haunted。　I　charged　them　to　conceal　from　you；　before　I　ever　saw　you；　all　knowledge　of　the　curse　of　the　place；　merely　because　I　feared　Adèle　never　would　have　a　governess　to　stay　if　she　knew　with　what　inmate　she　was　housed；　and　my　plans　would　not　permit　me　to　remove　the　maniac　elsewhere—though　I　possess　an　old　house；　Ferndean　Manor；　even　more　retired　and　hidden　than　this；　where　I　could　have　lodged　her　safely　enough；　had　not　a　scruple　about　the　unhealthiness　of　the　situation；　in　the　heart　of　a　wood；　made　my　conscience　recoil　from　the　arrangement。　Probably　those　damp　walls　would　soon　have　eased　me　of　her　charge：　but　to　each　villain　his　own　vice；　and　mine　is　not　a　tendency　to　indirect　assassination；　even　of　what　I　most　hate。

“Concealing　the　mad…woman’s　neighbourhood　from　you；　however；　was　something　like　covering　a　child　with　a　cloak　and　laying　it　down　near　a　upas…tree：　that　demon’s　vicinage　is　poisoned；　and　always　was。　But　I’ll　shut　up　Thornfield　Hall：　I’ll　nail　up　the　front　door　and　board　the　lower　windows：　I’ll　give　Mrs。　Poole　two　hundred　a　year　to　live　here　with　my　wife；　as　you　term　that　fearful　hag：　Grace　will　do　much　for　money；　and　she　shall　have　her　son；　the　keeper　at　Grimsby　Retreat；　to　bear　her　pany　and　be　at　hand　to　give　her　aid　in　the　paroxysms；　when　my　wife　is　prompted　by　her　familiar　to　burn　people　in　their　beds　at　night；　to　stab　them；　to　bite　their　flesh　from　their　bones；　and　so　on—”

“Sir；”　I　interrupted　him；　“you　are　inexorable　for　that　unfortunate　lady：　you　speak　of　her　with　hate—with　vindictive　antipathy。　It　is　cruel—she　cannot　help　being　mad。”

“Jane；　my　little　darling　（so　I　will　call　you；　for　so　you　are）；　you　don’t　know　what　you　are　talking　about；　you　misjudge　me　again：　it　is　not　because　she　is　mad　I　hate　her。　If　you　were　mad；　do　you　think　I　should　hate　you？”

“I　do　indeed；　sir。”

“Then　you　are　mistaken；　and　you　know　nothing　about　me；　and　nothing　about　the　sort　of　love　of　which　I　am　capable。　Every　atom　of　your　flesh　is　as　dear　to　me　as　my　own：　in　pain　and　sickness　it　would　still　be　dear。　Your　mind　is　my　treasure；　and　if　it　were　broken；　it　would　be　my　treasure　still：　if　you　raved；　my　arms　should　confine　you；　and　not　a　strait　waistcoat—your　grasp；　even　in　fury；　would　have　a　charm　for　me：　if　you　flew　at　me　as　wildly　as　that　woman　did　this　morning；　I　should　receive　you　in　an　embrace；　at　least　as　fond　as　it　would　be　restrictive。　I　should　not　shrink　from　you　with　disgust　as　I　did　from　her：　in　your　quiet　moments　you　should　have　no　watcher　and　no　nurse　but　me；　and　I　could　hang　over　you　with　untiring　tenderness；　though　you　gave　me　no　smile　in　return；　and　never　weary　of　gazing　into　your　eyes；　though　they　had　no　longer　a　ray　of　recognition　for　me。—But　why　do　I　follow　that　train　of　ideas？　I　was　talking　of　removing　you　from　Thornfield。　All；　you　know；　is　prepared　for　prompt　departure：　to…morrow　you　shall　go。　I　only　ask　you　to　endure　one　more　night　under　this　roof；　Jane；　and　then；　farewell　to　its　miseries　and　terrors　for　ever！　I　have　a　place　to　repair　to；　which　will　be　a　secure　sanctuary　from　hateful　reminiscences；　from　unwele　intrusion—even　from　falsehood　and　slander。”

“And　take　Adèle　with　you；　sir；”　I　interrupted；　“she　will　be　a　panion　for　you。”

“What　do　you　mean；　Jane？　I　told　you　I　would　send　Adèle　to　school；　and　what　do　I　want　with　a　child　for　a　panion；　and　not　my　own　child；—a　French　dancer’s　bastard？　Why　do　you　importune　me　about　her！　I　say；　why　do　you　assign　Adèle　to　me　for　a　panion？”

“You　spoke　of　a　retirement；　sir；　and　retirement　and　solitude　are　dull：　too　dull　for　you。”

“Solitude！　solitude！”　he　reiterated　with　irritation。　“I　see　I　must　e　to　an　explanation。　I　don’t　know　what　sphynx…like　expression　is　forming　in　your　countenance。　You　are　to　share　my　solitude。　Do　you　understand？”

I　shook　my　head：　it　required　a　degree　of　courage；　excited　as　he　was　being；　even　to　risk　that　mute　sign　of　dissent。　He　had　been　walking　fast　about　the　room；　and　he　stopped；　as　if　suddenly　rooted　to　one　spot。　He　looked　at　me　long　and　hard：　I　turned　my　eyes　from　him；　fixed　them　on　the　fire；　and　tried　to　assume　and　maintain　a　quiet；　collected　aspect。

“Now　for　the　hitch　in　Jane’s　character；”　he　said　at　last；　speaking　more　calmly　than　from　his　look　I　had　expected　him　to　speak。　“The　reel　of　silk　has　run　smoothly　enough　so　far；　but　I　always　knew　there　would　e　a　knot　and　a　puzzle：　here　it　is。　Now　for　vexation；　and　exasperation；　and　endless　trouble！　By　God！　I　long　to　exert　a　fraction　of　Samson’s　strength；　and　break　the　entanglement　like　tow！”

He　remenced　his　walk；　but　soon　again　stopped；　and　this　time　just　before　me。

“Jane！　will　you　hear　reason？”　（he　stooped　and　approached　his　lips　to　my　ear）；　“because；　if　you　won’t；　I’ll　try　violence。”　His　voice　was　hoarse；　his　look　that　of　a　man　who　is　just　about　to　burst　an　insufferable　bond　and　plunge　headlong　into　wild　license。　I　saw　that　in　another　moment；　and　with　one　impetus　of　frenzy　more；　I　should　be　able　to　do　nothing　with　him。　The　present—the　passing　second　of　time—was　all　I　had　in　which　to　control　and　restrain　him—a　movement　of　repulsion；　flight；　fear　would　have　sealed　my　doom；—and　his。　But　I　was　not　afraid：　not　in　the　least。　I　felt　an　inward　power；　a　sense　of　influence；　which　supported　me。　The　crisis　was　perilous；　but　not　without　its　charm：　such　as　the　Indian；　perhaps；　feels　when　he　slips　over　the　rapid　in　his　canoe。　I　took　hold　of　his　clenched　hand；　loosened　the　contorted　fingers；　and　said　to　him；　soothingly—

“Sit　down；　I’ll　talk　to　you　as　long　as　you　like；　and　hear　all　you　have　to　say；　whether　reasonable　or　unreasonable。”

He　sat　down：　but　he　did　not　get　leave　to　speak　directly。　I　had　been　struggling　with　tears　for　some　time：　I　had　taken　great　pains　to　repress　them；　because　I　knew　he　would　not　like　to　see　me　weep。　Now；　however；　I　considered　it　well　to　let　them　flow　as　freely　and　as　long　as　they　liked。　If　the　flood　annoyed　him；　so　much　the　better。　So　I　gave　way　and　cried　heartily。

Soon　I　heard　him　earnestly　entreating　me　to　be　posed。　I　said　I　could　not　while　he　was　in　such　a　passion。

“But　I　am　not　angry；　Jane：　I　only　love　you　too　well；　and　you　had　steeled　your　little　pale　face　with　such　a　resolute；　frozen　look；　I　could　not　endure　it。　Hush；　now；　and　wipe　your　eyes。”

His　softened　voice　announced　that　he　was　subdued；　so　I；　in　my　turn；　became　calm。　Now　he　made　an　effort　to　rest　his　head　on　my　shoulder；　but　I　would　not　permit　it。　Then　he　would　draw　me　to　him：　no。

“Jane！　Jane！”　he　said；　in　such　an　accent　of　bitter　sadness　it　thrilled　along　every　nerve　I　had；　“you　don’t　love　me；　then？　It　was　only　my　station；　and　the　rank　of　my　wife；　that　you　valued？　Now　that　you　think　me　disqualified　to　bee　your　husband；　you　recoil　from　my　touch　as　if　I　were　some　toad　or　ape。”

These　words　cut　me：　yet　what　could　I　do　or　I　say？　I　ought　probably　to　have　done　or　said　nothing；　but　I　was　so　tortured　by　a　sense　of　remorse　at　thus　hurting　his　feelings；　I　could　not　control　the　wish　to　drop　balm　where　I　had　wounded。

“I　do　love　you；”　I　said；　“more　than　ever：　but　I　must　not　show　or　indulge　the　feeling：　and　this　is　the　last　time　I　must　express　it。”

“The　last　time；　Jane！　What！　do　you　think　you　can　live　with　me；　and　see　me　daily；　and　yet；　if　you　still　love　me；　be　always　cold　and　distant？”

“No；　sir；　that　I　am　certain　I　could　not；　and　therefore　I　see　there　is　but　one　way：　but　you　will　be　furious　if　I　mention　it。”

“Oh；　mention　it！　If　I　storm；　you　have　the　art　of　weeping。”

“Mr。　Rochester；　I　must　leave　you。”

“For　how　long；　Jane？　For　a　few　minutes；　while　you　smooth　your　hair—which　is　somewhat　dishevelled；　and　bathe　your　face—which　looks　feverish？”

“I　must　leave　Adèle　and　Thornfield。　I　must　part　with　you　for　my　whole　life：　I　must　begin　a　new　existence　among　strange　faces　and　strange　scenes。”

“Of　course：　I　told　you　you　should。　I　pass　over　the　madness　about　parting　from　me。　You　mean　you　must　bee　a　part　of　me。　As　to　the　new　existence；　it　is　all　right：　you　shall　yet　be　my　wife：　I　am　not　married。　You　shall　be　Mrs。　Rochester—both　virtually　and　nominally。　I　shall　keep　only　to　you　so　long　as　you　and　I　live。　You　shall　go　to　a　place　I　have　in　the　south　of　France：　a　whitewashed　villa　on　the　shores　of　the　Mediterranean。　There　you　shall　live　a　happy；　and　guarded；　and　most　innocent　life。　Never　fear　that　I　wish　to　lure　you　into　error—to　make　you　my　mistress。　Why　did　you　shake　your　head？　Jane；　you　must　be　reasonable；　or　in　truth　I　shall　again　bee　frantic。”

His　voice　and　hand　quivered：　his　large　nostrils　dilated；　his　eye　blazed：　still　I　dared　to　speak。

“Sir；　your　wife　is　living：　that　is　a　fact　acknowledged　this　morning　by　yourself。　If　I　lived　with　you　as　you　desire；　I　should　then　be　your　mistress：　to　say　otherwise　is　sophistical—is　false。”

“Jane；　I　am　not　a　gentle…tempered　man—you　forget　that：　I　am　not　long…enduring；　I　am　not　cool　and　dispassionate。　Out　of　pity　to　me　and　yourself；　put　your　finger　on　my　pulse；　feel　how　it　throbs；　and—　beware！”

He　bared　his　wrist；　and　offered　it　to　me：　the　blood　was　forsaking　his　cheek　and　lips；　they　were　growing　livid；　I　was　distressed　on　all　hands。　To　agitate　him　thus　deeply；　by　a　resistance　he　so　abhorred；　was　cruel：　to　yield　was　out　of　the　question。　I　did　what　human　beings　do　instinctively　when　they　are　driven　to　utter　extremity—　looked　for　aid　to　one　higher　than　man：　the　words　“God　help　me！”　burst　involuntarily　from　my　lips。

“I　am　a　fool！”　cried　Mr。　Rochester　suddenly。　“I　keep　telling　her　I　am　not　married；　and　do　not　explain　to　her　why。　I　forget　she　knows　nothing　o

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