简爱(英文版)-第8部分

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“No　doubt；　no　doubt；　madam；　and　now　I　wish　you　good　morning。　I　shall　return　to　Brocklehurst　Hall　in　the　course　of　a　week　or　two：　my　good　friend；　the　Archdeacon；　will　not　permit　me　to　leave　him　sooner。　I　shall　send　Miss　Temple　notice　that　she　is　to　expect　a　new　girl；　so　that　there　will　he　no　difficulty　about　receiving　her。　Good…bye。”
“Good…bye；　Mr。　Brocklehurst；　remember　me　to　Mrs。　and　Miss　Brocklehurst；　and　to　Augusta　and　Theodore；　and　Master　Broughton　Brocklehurst。”
“I　will；　madam。　Little　girl；　here　is　a　book　entitled　the　Child’s　Guide；　read　it　with　prayer；　especially　that　part　containing　‘An　account　of　the　awfully　sudden　death　of　Martha　G　—；　a　naughty　child　addicted　to　falsehood　and　deceit。’”
With　these　words　Mr。　Brocklehurst　put　into　my　hand　a　thin　pamphlet　sewn　in　a　cover；　and　having　rung　for　his　carriage；　he　departed。
Mrs。　Reed　and　I　were　left　alone：　some　minutes　passed　in　silence；　she　was　sewing；　I　was　watching　her。　Mrs。　Reed　might　be　at　that　time　some　six　or　seven　and　thirty；　she　was　a　woman　of　robust　frame；　square…shouldered　and　strong…limbed；　not　tall；　and；　though　stout；　not　obese：　she　had　a　somewhat　large　face；　the　under　jaw　being　much　developed　and　very　solid；　her　brow　was　low；　her　chin　large　and　prominent；　mouth　and　nose　sufficiently　regular；　under　her　light　eyebrows　glimmered　an　eye　devoid　of　ruth；　her　skin　was　dark　and　opaque；　her　hair　nearly　flaxen；　her　constitution　was　sound　as　a　bell—illness　never　came　near　her；　she　was　an　exact；　clever　manager；　her　household　and　tenantry　were　thoroughly　under　her　control；　her　children　only　at　times　defied　her　authority　and　laughed　it　to　scorn；　she　dressed　well；　and　had　a　presence　and　port　calculated　to　set　off　handsome　attire。
Sitting　on　a　low　stool；　a　few　yards　from　her　arm…chair；　I　examined　her　figure；　I　perused　her　features。　In　my　hand　I　held　the　tract　containing　the　sudden　death　of　the　Liar；　to　which　narrative　my　attention　had　been　pointed　as　to　an　appropriate　warning。　What　had　just　passed；　what　Mrs。　Reed　had　said　concerning　me　to　Mr。　Brocklehurst；　the　whole　tenor　of　their　conversation；　was　recent；　raw；　and　stinging　in　my　mind；　I　had　felt　every　word　as　acutely　as　I　had　heard　it　plainly；　and　a　passion　of　resentment　fomented　now　within　me。
Mrs。　Reed　looked　up　from　her　work；　her　eye　settled　on　mine；　her　fingers　at　the　same　time　suspended　their　nimble　movements。
“Go　out　of　the　room；　return　to　the　nursery；”　was　her　mandate。　My　look　or　something　else　must　have　struck　her　as　offensive；　for　she　spoke　with　extreme　though　suppressed　irritation。　I　got　up；　I　went　to　the　door；　I　came　back　again；　I　walked　to　the　window；　across　the　room；　then　close　up　to　her。
Speak　I　must：　I　had　been　trodden　on　severely；　and　must　turn：　but　how？　What　strength　had　I　to　dart　retaliation　at　my　antagonist？　I　gathered　my　energies　and　launched　them　in　this　blunt　sentence—
“I　am　not　deceitful：　if　I　were；　I　should　say　I　loved　you；　but　I　declare　I　do　not　love　you：　I　dislike　you　the　worst　of　anybody　in　the　world　except　John　Reed；　and　this　book　about　the　liar；　you　may　give　to　your　girl；　Georgiana；　for　it　is　she　who　tells　lies；　and　not　I。”
Mrs。　Reed’s　hands　still　lay　on　her　work　inactive：　her　eye　of　ice　continued　to　dwell　freezingly　on　mine。
“What　more　have　you　to　say？”　she　asked；　rather　in　the　tone　in　which　a　person　might　address　an　opponent　of　adult　age　than　such　as　is　ordinarily　used　to　a　child。
That　eye　of　hers；　that　voice　stirred　every　antipathy　I　had。　Shaking　from　head　to　foot；　thrilled　with　ungovernable　excitement；　I　continued—
“I　am　glad　you　are　no　relation　of　mine：　I　will　never　call　you　aunt　again　as　long　as　I　live。　I　will　never　e　to　see　you　when　I　am　grown　up；　and　if　any　one　asks　me　how　I　liked　you；　and　how　you　treated　me；　I　will　say　the　very　thought　of　you　makes　me　sick；　and　that　you　treated　me　with　miserable　cruelty。”
“How　dare　you　affirm　that；　Jane　Eyre？”
“How　dare　I；　Mrs。　Reed？　How　dare　I？　Because　it　is　the　truth。　You　think　I　have　no　feelings；　and　that　I　can　do　without　one　bit　of　love　or　kindness；　but　I　cannot　live　so：　and　you　have　no　pity。　I　shall　remember　how　you　thrust　me　back—roughly　and　violently　thrust　me　back—into　the　red…room；　and　locked　me　up　there；　to　my　dying　day；　though　I　was　in　agony；　though　I　cried　out；　while　suffocating　with　distress；　‘Have　mercy！　Have　mercy；　Aunt　Reed！’　And　that　punishment　you　made　me　suffer　because　your　wicked　boy　struck　me—knocked　me　down　for　nothing。　I　will　tell　anybody　who　asks　me　questions；　this　exact　tale。　People　think　you　a　good　woman；　but　you　are　bad；　hard…　hearted。　You　are　deceitful！”
Ere　I　had　finished　this　reply；　my　soul　began　to　expand；　to　exult；　with　the　strangest　sense　of　freedom；　of　triumph；　I　ever　felt。　It　seemed　as　if　an　invisible　bond　had　burst；　and　that　I　had　struggled　out　into　unhoped…for　liberty。　Not　without　cause　was　this　sentiment：　Mrs。　Reed　looked　frightened；　her　work　had　slipped　from　her　knee；　she　was　lifting　up　her　hands；　rocking　herself　to　and　fro；　and　even　twisting　her　face　as　if　she　would　cry。
“Jane；　you　are　under　a　mistake：　what　is　the　matter　with　you？　Why　do　you　tremble　so　violently？　Would　you　like　to　drink　some　water？”
“No；　Mrs。　Reed。”
“Is　there　anything　else　you　wish　for；　Jane？　I　assure　you；　I　desire　to　be　your　friend。”
“Not　you。　You　told　Mr。　Brocklehurst　I　had　a　bad　character；　a　deceitful　disposition；　and　I’ll　let　everybody　at　Lowood　know　what　you　are；　and　what　you　have　done。”
“Jane；　you　don’t　understand　these　things：　children　must　be　corrected　for　their　faults。”
“Deceit　is　not　my　fault！”　I　cried　out　in　a　savage；　high　voice。
“But　you　are　passionate；　Jane；　that　you　must　allow：　and　now　return　to　the　nursery—there’s　a　dear—and　lie　down　a　little。”
“I　am　not　your　dear；　I　cannot　lie　down：　send　me　to　school　soon；　Mrs。　Reed；　for　I　hate　to　live　here。”
“I　will　indeed　send　her　to　school　soon；”　murmured　Mrs。　Reed　sotto　voce；　and　gathering　up　her　ent。
I　was　left　there　alone—winner　of　the　field。　It　was　the　hardest　battle　I　had　fought；　and　the　first　victory　I　had　gained：　I　stood　awhile　on　the　rug；　where　Mr。　Brocklehurst　had　stood；　and　I　enjoyed　my　conqueror’s　solitude。　First；　I　smiled　to　myself　and　felt　elate；　but　this　fierce　pleasure　subsided　in　me　as　fast　as　did　the　accelerated　throb　of　my　pulses。　A　child　cannot　quarrel　with　its　elders；　as　I　had　done；　cannot　give　its　furious　feelings　uncontrolled　play；　as　I　had　given　mine；　without　experiencing　afterwards　the　pang　of　remorse　and　the　chill　of　reaction。　A　ridge　of　lighted　heath；　alive；　glancing；　devouring；　would　have　been　a　meet　emblem　of　my　mind　when　I　accused　and　menaced　Mrs。　Reed：　the　same　ridge；　black　and　blasted　after　the　flames　are　dead；　would　have　represented　as　meetly　my　subsequent　condition；　when　half…an…hour’s　silence　and　reflection　had　shown　me　the　madness　of　my　conduct；　and　the　dreariness　of　my　hated　and　hating　position。
Something　of　vengeance　I　had　tasted　for　the　first　time；　as　aromatic　wine　it　seemed；　on　swallowing；　warm　and　racy：　its　after…flavour；　metallic　and　corroding；　gave　me　a　sensation　as　if　I　had　been　poisoned。　Willingly　would　I　now　have　gone　and　asked　Mrs。　Reed’s　pardon；　but　I　knew；　partly　from　experience　and　partly　from　instinct；　that　was　the　way　to　make　her　repulse　me　with　double　scorn；　thereby　re…exciting　every　turbulent　impulse　of　my　nature。
I　would　fain　exercise　some　better　faculty　than　that　of　fierce　speaking；　fain　find　nourishment　for　some　less　fiendish　feeling　than　that　of　sombre　indignation。　I　took　a　book—some　Arabian　tales；　I　sat　down　and　endeavoured　to　read。　I　could　make　no　sense　of　the　subject；　my　own　thoughts　swam　always　between　me　and　the　page　I　had　usually　found　fascinating。　I　opened　the　glass…door　in　the　breakfast…room：　the　shrubbery　was　quite　still：　the　black　frost　reigned；　unbroken　by　sun　or　breeze；　through　the　grounds。　I　covered　my　head　and　arms　with　the　skirt　of　my　frock；　and　went　out　to　walk　in　a　part　of　the　plantation　which　was　quite　sequestrated；　but　I　found　no　pleasure　in　the　silent　trees；　the　falling　fir…cones；　the　congealed　relics　of　autumn；　russet　leaves；　swept　by　past　winds　in　heaps；　and　now　stiffened　together。　I　leaned　against　a　gate；　and　looked　into　an　empty　field　where　no　sheep　were　feeding；　where　the　short　grass　was　nipped　and　blanched。　It　was　a　very　grey　day；　a　most　opaque　sky；　“onding　on　snaw；”　canopied　all；　thence　flakes　felt　it　intervals；　which　settled　on　the　hard　path　and　on　the　hoary　lea　without　melting。　I　stood；　a　wretched　child　enough；　whispering　to　myself　over　and　over　again；　“What　shall　I　do？—what　shall　I　do？”
All　at　once　I　heard　a　clear　voice　call；　“Miss　Jane！　where　are　you？　e　to　lunch！”
It　was　Bessie；　I　knew　well　enough；　but　I　did　not　stir；　her　light　step　came　tripping　down　the　path。
“You　naughty　little　thing！”　she　said。　“Why　don’t　you　e　when　you　are　called？”
Bessie’s　presence；　pared　with　the　thoughts　over　which　I　had　been　brooding；　seemed　cheerful；　even　though；　as　usual；　she　was　somewhat　cross。　The　fact　is；　after　my　conflict　with　and　victory　over　Mrs。　Reed；　I　was　not　disposed　to　care　much　for　the　nursemaid’s　transitory　anger；　and　I　was　disposed　to　bask　in　her　youthful　lightness　of　heart。　I　just　put　my　two　arms　round　her　and　said；　“e；　Bessie！　don’t　scold。”
The　action　was　more　frank　and　fearless　than　any　I　was　habituated　to　indulge　in：　somehow　it　pleased　her。
“You　are　a　strange　child；　Miss　Jane；”　she　said；　as　she　looked　down　at　me；　“a　little　roving；　solitary　thing：　and　you　are　going　to　school；　I　suppose？”
I　nodded。
“And　won’t　you　be　sorry　to　leave　poor　Bessie？”
“What　does　Bessie　care　for　me？　She　is　always　scolding　me。”
“Because　you’re　such　a　queer；　frightened；　shy　little　thing。　You　should　be　bolder。”
“What！　to　get　more　knocks？”
“Nonsense！　But　you　are　rather　put　upon；　that’s　certain。　My　mother　said；　when　she　came　to　see　me　last　week；　that　she　would　not　like　a　little　one　of　her　own　to　be　in　your　place。—Now；　e　in；　and　I’ve　some　good　news　for　you。”
“I　don’t　think　you　have；　Bessie。”
“Child！　what　do　you　mean？　What　sorrowful　eyes　you　fix　on　me！　Well；　but　Missis　and　the　young　ladies　and　Master　John　are　going　out　to　tea　this　afternoon；　and　you　shall　have　tea　with　me。　I’ll　ask　cook　to　bake　you　a　little　cake；　and　then　you　shall　help　me　to　look　over　your　drawers；　for　I　am　soon　to　pack　your　trunk。　Missis　intends　you　to　leave　G