简爱(英文版)-第49部分

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he　sole　food　of　your　memory：　you　wander　here　and　there；　seeking　rest　in　exile：　happiness　in　pleasure—I　mean　in　heartless；　sensual　pleasure—such　as　dulls　intellect　and　blights　feeling。　Heart…weary　and　soul…withered；　you　e　home　after　years　of　voluntary　banishment：　you　make　a　new　acquaintance—how　or　where　no　matter：　you　find　in　this　stranger　much　of　the　good　and　bright　qualities　which　you　have　sought　for　twenty　years；　and　never　before　encountered；　and　they　are　all　fresh；　healthy；　without　soil　and　without　taint。　Such　society　revives；　regenerates：　you　feel　better　days　e　back—higher　wishes；　purer　feelings；　you　desire　to　remence　your　life；　and　to　spend　what　remains　to　you　of　days　in　a　way　more　worthy　of　an　immortal　being。　To　attain　this　end；　are　you　justified　in　overleaping　an　obstacle　of　custom—a　mere　conventional　impediment　which　neither　your　conscience　sanctifies　nor　your　judgment　approves？”
He　paused　for　an　answer：　and　what　was　I　to　say？　Oh；　for　some　good　spirit　to　suggest　a　judicious　and　satisfactory　response！　Vain　aspiration！　The　west　wind　whispered　in　the　ivy　round　me；　but　no　gentle　Ariel　borrowed　its　breath　as　a　medium　of　speech：　the　birds　sang　in　the　tree…tops；　but　their　song；　however　sweet；　was　inarticulate。
Again　Mr。　Rochester　propounded　his　query：
“Is　the　wandering　and　sinful；　but　now　rest…seeking　and　repentant；　man　justified　in　daring　the　world’s　opinion；　in　order　to　attach　to　him　for　ever　this　gentle；　gracious；　genial　stranger；　thereby　securing　his　own　peace　of　mind　and　regeneration　of　life？”
“Sir；”　I　answered；　“a　wanderer’s　repose　or　a　sinner’s　reformation　should　never　depend　on　a　fellow…creature。　Men　and　women　die；　philosophers　falter　in　wisdom；　and　Christians　in　goodness：　if　any　one　you　know　has　suffered　and　erred；　let　him　look　higher　than　his　equals　for　strength　to　amend　and　solace　to　heal。”
“But　the　instrument—the　instrument！　God；　who　does　the　work；　ordains　the　instrument。　I　have　myself—I　tell　it　you　without　parable—been　a　worldly；　dissipated；　restless　man；　and　I　believe　I　have　found　the　instrument　for　my　cure　in—”
He　paused：　the　birds　went　on　carolling；　the　leaves　lightly　rustling。　I　almost　wondered　they　did　not　check　their　songs　and　whispers　to　catch　the　suspended　revelation；　but　they　would　have　had　to　wait　many　minutes—so　long　was　the　silence　protracted。　At　last　I　looked　up　at　the　tardy　speaker：　he　was　looking　eagerly　at　me。
“Little　friend；”　said　he；　in　quite　a　changed　tone—while　his　face　changed　too；　losing　all　its　softness　and　gravity；　and　being　harsh　and　sarcastic—“you　have　noticed　my　tender　penchant　for　Miss　Ingram：　don’t　you　think　if　I　married　her　she　would　regenerate　me　with　a　vengeance？”
He　got　up　instantly；　went　quite　to　the　other　end　of　the　walk；　and　when　he　came　back　he　was　humming　a　tune。
“Jane；　Jane；”　said　he；　stopping　before　me；　“you　are　quite　pale　with　your　vigils：　don’t　you　curse　me　for　disturbing　your　rest？”
“Curse　you？　No；　sir。”
“Shake　hands　in　confirmation　of　the　word。　What　cold　fingers！　They　were　warmer　last　night　when　I　touched　them　at　the　door　of　the　mysterious　chamber。　Jane；　when　will　you　watch　with　me　again？”
“Whenever　I　can　be　useful；　sir。”
“For　instance；　the　night　before　I　am　married！　I　am　sure　I　shall　not　be　able　to　sleep。　Will　you　promise　to　sit　up　with　me　to　bear　me　pany？　To　you　I　can　talk　of　my　lovely　one：　for　now　you　have　seen　her　and　know　her。”
“Yes；　sir。”
“She’s　a　rare　one；　is　she　not；　Jane？”
“Yes；　sir。”
“A　strapper—a　real　strapper；　Jane：　big；　brown；　and　buxom；　with　hair　just　such　as　the　ladies　of　Carthage　must　have　had。　Bless　me！　there’s　Dent　and　Lynn　in　the　stables！　Go　in　by　the　shrubbery；　through　that　wicket。”
As　I　went　one　way；　he　went　another；　and　I　heard　him　in　the　yard；　saying　cheerfully—
“Mason　got　the　start　of　you　all　this　morning；　he　was　gone　before　sunrise：　I　rose　at　four　to　see　him　off。”
Chapter　21
Presentiments　are　strange　things！　and　so　are　sympathies；　and　so　are　signs；　and　the　three　bined　make　one　mystery　to　which　humanity　has　not　yet　found　the　key。　I　never　laughed　at　presentiments　in　my　life；　because　I　have　had　strange　ones　of　my　own。　Sympathies；　I　believe；　exist　（for　instance；　between　far…distant；　long…absent；　wholly　estranged　relatives　asserting；　notwithstanding　their　alienation；　the　unity　of　the　source　to　which　each　traces　his　origin）　whose　workings　baffle　mortal　prehension。　And　signs；　for　aught　we　know；　may　be　but　the　sympathies　of　Nature　with　man。
When　I　was　a　little　girl；　only　six　years　old；　I　one　night　heard　Bessie　Leaven　say　to　Martha　Abbot　that　she　had　been　dreaming　about　a　little　child；　and　that　to　dream　of　children　was　a　sure　sign　of　trouble；　either　to　one’s　self　or　one’s　kin。　The　saying　might　have　worn　out　of　my　memory；　had　not　a　circumstance　immediately　followed　which　served　indelibly　to　fix　it　there。　The　next　day　Bessie　was　sent　for　home　to　the　deathbed　of　her　little　sister。
Of　late　I　had　often　recalled　this　saying　and　this　incident；　for　during　the　past　week　scarcely　a　night　had　gone　over　my　couch　that　had　not　brought　with　it　a　dream　of　an　infant；　which　I　sometimes　hushed　in　my　arms；　sometimes　dandled　on　my　knee；　sometimes　watched　playing　with　daisies　on　a　lawn；　or　again；　dabbling　its　hands　in　running　water。　It　was　a　wailing　child　this　night；　and　a　laughing　one　the　next：　now　it　nestled　close　to　me；　and　now　it　ran　from　me；　but　whatever　mood　the　apparition　evinced；　whatever　aspect　it　wore；　it　failed　not　for　seven　successive　nights　to　meet　me　the　moment　I　entered　the　land　of　slumber。
I　did　not　like　this　iteration　of　one　idea—this　strange　recurrence　of　one　image；　and　I　grew　nervous　as　bedtime　approached　and　the　hour　of　the　vision　drew　near。　It　was　from　panionship　with　this　baby…　phantom　I　had　been　roused　on　that　moonlight　night　when　I　heard　the　cry；　and　it　was　on　the　afternoon　of　the　day　following　I　was　summoned　downstairs　by　a　message　that　some　one　wanted　me　in　Mrs。　Fairfax’s　room。　On　repairing　thither；　I　found　a　man　waiting　for　me；　having　the　appearance　of　a　gentleman’s　servant：　he　was　dressed　in　deep　mourning；　and　the　hat　he　held　in　his　hand　was　surrounded　with　a　crape　band。
“I　daresay　you　hardly　remember　me；　Miss；”　he　said；　rising　as　I　entered；　“but　my　name　is　Leaven：　I　lived　coachman　with　Mrs。　Reed　when　you　were　at　Gateshead；　eight　or　nine　years　since；　and　I　live　there　still。”
“Oh；　Robert！　how　do　you　do？　I　remember　you　very　well：　you　used　to　give　me　a　ride　sometimes　on　Miss　Georgiana’s　bay　pony。　And　how　is　Bessie？　You　are　married　to　Bessie？”
“Yes；　Miss：　my　wife　is　very　hearty；　thank　you；　she　brought　me　another　little　one　about　two　months　since—we　have　three　now—and　both　mother　and　child　are　thriving。”
“And　are　the　family　well　at　the　house；　Robert？”
“I　am　sorry　I　can’t　give　you　better　news　of　them；　Miss：　they　are　very　badly　at　present—in　great　trouble。”
“I　hope　no　one　is　dead；”　I　said；　glancing　at　his　black　dress。　He　too　looked　down　at　the　crape　round　his　hat　and　replied—
“Mr。　John　died　yesterday　was　a　week；　at　his　chambers　in　London。”
“Mr。　John？”
“Yes。”
“And　how　does　his　mother　bear　it？”
“Why；　you　see；　Miss　Eyre；　it　is　not　a　mon　mishap：　his　life　has　been　very　wild：　these　last　three　years　he　gave　himself　up　to　strange　ways；　and　his　death　was　shocking。”
“I　heard　from　Bessie　he　was　not　doing　well。”
“Doing　well！　He　could　not　do　worse：　he　ruined　his　health　and　his　estate　amongst　the　worst　men　and　the　worst　women。　He　got　into　debt　and　into　jail：　his　mother　helped　him　out　twice；　but　as　soon　as　he　was　free　he　returned　to　his　old　panions　and　habits。　His　head　was　not　strong：　the　knaves　he　lived　amongst　fooled　him　beyond　anything　I　ever　heard。　He　came　down　to　Gateshead　about　three　weeks　ago　and　wanted　missis　to　give　up　all　to　him。　Missis　refused：　her　means　have　long　been　much　reduced　by　his　extravagance；　so　he　went　back　again；　and　the　next　news　was　that　he　was　dead。　How　he　died；　God　knows！—they　say　he　killed　himself。”
I　was　silent：　the　things　were　frightful。　Robert　Leaven　resumed—
“Missis　had　been　out　of　health　herself　for　some　time：　she　had　got　very　stout；　but　was　not　strong　with　it；　and　the　loss　of　money　and　fear　of　poverty　were　quite　breaking　her　down。　The　information　about　Mr。　John’s　death　and　the　manner　of　it　came　too　suddenly：　it　brought　on　a　stroke。　She　was　three　days　without　speaking；　but　last　Tuesday　she　seemed　rather　better：　she　appeared　as　if　she　wanted　to　say　something；　and　kept　making　signs　to　my　wife　and　mumbling。　It　was　only　yesterday　morning；　however；　that　Bessie　understood　she　was　pronouncing　your　name；　and　at　last　she　made　out　the　words；　‘Bring　Jane—fetch　Jane　Eyre：　I　want　to　speak　to　her。’　Bessie　is　not　sure　whether　she　is　in　her　right　mind；　or　means　anything　by　the　words；　but　she　told　Miss　Reed　and　Miss　Georgiana；　and　advised　them　to　send　for　you。　The　young　ladies　put　it　off　at　first；　but　their　mother　grew　so　restless；　and　said；　‘Jane；　Jane；’　so　many　times；　that　at　last　they　consented。　I　left　Gateshead　yesterday：　and　if　you　can　get　ready；　Miss；　I　should　like　to　take　you　back　with　me　early　to…　morrow　morning。”
“Yes；　Robert；　I　shall　be　ready：　it　seems　to　me　that　I　ought　to　go。”
“I　think　so　too；　Miss。　Bessie　said　she　was　sure　you　would　not　refuse：　but　I　suppose　you　will　have　to　ask　leave　before　you　can　get　off？”
“Yes；　and　I　will　do　it　now；”　and　having　directed　him　to　the　servants’　hall；　and　remended　him　to　the　care　of　John’s　wife；　and　the　attentions　of　John　himself；　I　went　in　search　of　Mr。　Rochester。
He　was　not　in　any　of　the　lower　rooms；　he　was　not　in　the　yard；　the　stables；　or　the　grounds。　I　asked　Mrs。　Fairfax　if　she　had　seen　him；—yes：　she　believed　he　was　playing　billiards　with　Miss　Ingram。　To　the　billiard…room　I　hastened：　the　click　of　balls　and　the　hum　of　voices　resounded　thence；　Mr。　Rochester；　Miss　Ingram；　the　two　Misses　Eshton；　and　their　admirers；　were　all　busied　in　the　game。　It　required　some　courage　to　disturb　so　interesting　a　party；　my　errand；　however；　was　one　I　could　not　defer；　so　I　approached　the　master　where　he　stood　at　Miss　Ingram’s　side。　She　turned　as　I　drew　near；　and　looked　at　me　haughtily：　her　eyes　seemed　to　demand；　“What　can　the　creeping　creature　want　now？”　and　when　I　said；　in　a　low　voice；　“Mr。　Rochester；”　she　made　a　movement　as　if　tempted　to　order　me　away。　I　remember　her　appearance　at　th