Jane Eyre-第69章
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ispute； no defiance or challenge； no tears； no sobs： a few words had been spoken； a calmly pronounced objection to the marriage made； some stern； short questions put by mr。 rochester； answers； explanations given； evidence adduced； an open admission of the truth had been uttered by my master； then the living proof had been seen； the intruders were gone； and all was over。
i was in my own room as usual—just myself； without obvious change： nothing had smitten me； or scathed me； or maimed me。 and yet where was the jane eyre of yesterday？—where was her life？—where were her prospects？
jane eyre； who had been an ardent； expectant woman—almost a bride； was a cold； solitary girl again： her life was pale； her prospects were desolate。 a christmas frost had e at midsummer； a white december storm had whirled over june； ice glazed the ripe apples； drifts crushed the blowing roses； on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud： lanes which last night blushed full of flowers； to… day were pathless with untrodden snow； and the woods； which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics； now spread； waste； wild； and white as pine…forests in wintry norway。 my hopes were all dead—struck with a subtle doom； such as； in one night； fell on all the first…born in the land of egypt。 i looked on my cherished wishes； yesterday so blooming and glowing； they lay stark； chill； livid corpses that could never revive。 i looked at my love： that feeling which was my master’s—which he had created； it shivered in my heart； like a suffering child in a cold cradle； sickness and anguish had seized it； it could not seek mr。 rochester’s arms—it could not derive warmth from his breast。 oh； never more could it turn to him； for faith was blighted—confidence destroyed！ mr。 rochester was not to me what he had been； for he was not what i had thought him。 i would not ascribe vice to him； i would not say he had betrayed me； but the attribute of stainless truth was gone from his idea； and from his presence i must go： that i perceived well。 when—how—whither； i could not yet discern； but he himself； i doubted not； would hurry me from thornfield。 real affection； it seemed； he could not have for me； it had been only fitful passion： that was balked； he would want me no more。 i should fear even to cross his path now： my view must be hateful to him。 oh； how blind had been my eyes！ how weak my conduct！
my eyes were covered and closed： eddying darkness seemed to swim round me； and reflection came in as black and confused a flow。 self…abandoned； relaxed； and effortless； i seemed to have laid me down in the dried…up bed of a great river； i heard a flood loosened in remote mountains； and felt the torrent e： to rise i had no will； to flee i had no strength。 i lay faint； longing to be dead。 one idea only still throbbed life…like within me—a remembrance of god： it begot an unuttered prayer： these words went wandering up and down in my rayless mind； as something that should be whispered； but no energy was found to express them—
“be not far from me； for trouble is near： there is none to help。”
it was near： and as i had lifted no petition to heaven to avert it—as i had neither joined my hands； nor bent my knees； nor moved my lips—it came： in full heavy swing the torrent poured over me。 the whole consciousness of my life lorn； my love lost； my hope quenched； my faith death…struck； swayed full and mighty above me in one sullen mass。 that bitter hour cannot be described： in truth； “the waters came into my soul； i sank in deep mire： i felt no standing； i came into deep waters； the floods overflowed me。”
。。
Chapter 28
（小//说；网/
two days are passed。 it is a summer evening； the coachman has set me down at a place called whitcross； he could take me no farther for the sum i had given； and i was not possessed of another shilling in the world。 the coach is a mile off by this time； i am alone。 at this moment i discover that i forgot to take my parcel out of the pocket of the coach； where i had placed it for safety； there it remains； there it must remain； and now； i am absolutely destitute。
whitcross is no town； nor even a hamlet； it is but a stone pillar set up where four roads meet： whitewashed； i suppose； to be more obvious at a distance and in darkness。 four arms spring from its summit： the nearest town to which these point is； according to the inscription； distant ten miles； the farthest； above twenty。 from the well…known names of these towns i learn in what county i have lighted； a north…midland shire； dusk with moorland； ridged with mountain： this i see。 there are great moors behind and on each hand of me； there are waves of mountains far beyond that deep valley at my feet。 the population here must be thin； and i see no passengers on these roads： they stretch out east； west； north； and south—white； broad； lonely； they are all cut in the moor； and the heather grows deep and wild to their very verge。 yet a chance traveller might pass by； and i wish no eye to see me now： strangers would wonder what i am doing； lingering here at the sign…post； evidently objectless and lost。 i might be questioned： i could give no answer but what would sound incredible and excite suspicion。 not a tie holds me to human society at this moment—not a charm or hope calls me where my fellow…creatures are—none that saw me would have a kind thought or a good wish for me。 i have no relative but the universal mother； nature： i will seek her breast and ask repose。
i struck straight into the heath； i held on to a hollow i saw deeply furrowing the brown moorside； i waded knee…deep in its dark growth； i turned with its turnings； and finding a moss…blackened granite crag in a hidden angle； i sat down under it。 high banks of moor were about me； the crag protected my head： the sky was over that。
some time passed before i felt tranquil even here： i had a vague dread that wild cattle might be near； or that some sportsman or poacher might discover me。 if a gust of wind swept the waste； i looked up； fearing it was the rush of a bull； if a plover whistled； i imagined it a man。 finding my apprehensions unfounded； however； and calmed by the deep silence that reigned as evening declined at nightfall； i took confidence。 as yet i had not thought； i had only listened； watched； dreaded； now i regained the faculty of reflection。
what was i to do？ where to go？ oh； intolerable questions； when i could do nothing and go nowhere！—when a long way must yet be measured by my weary； trembling limbs before i could reach human habitation—when cold charity must be entreated before i could get a lodging： reluctant sympathy importuned； almost certain repulse incurred； before my tale could be listened to； or one of my wants relieved！
i touched the heath； it was dry； and yet warm with the beat of the summer day。 i looked at the sky； it was pure： a kindly star twinkled just above the chasm ridge。 the dew fell； but with propitious softness； no breeze whispered。 nature seemed to me benign and good； i thought she loved me； outcast as i was； and i； who from man could anticipate only mistrust； rejection； insult； clung to her with filial fondness。 to…night； at least； i would be her guest； as i was her child： my mother would lodge me without money and without price。 i had one morsel of bread yet： the remnant of a roll i had bought in a town we passed through at noon with a stray penny—my last coin。 i saw ripe bilberries gleaming here and there； like jet beads in the heath： i gathered a handful and ate them with the bread。 my hunger； sharp before； was； if not satisfied； appeased by this hermit’s meal。 i said my evening prayers at its conclusion； and then chose my couch。
beside the crag the heath was very deep： when i lay down my feet were buried in it； rising high on each side； it left only a narrow space for the night…air to invade。 i folded my shawl double； and spread it over me for a coverlet； a low； mossy swell was my pillow。 thus lodged； i was not； at least—at the mencement of the night； cold。
my rest might have been blissful enough； only a sad heart broke it。 it plained of its gaping wounds； its inward bleeding； its riven chords。 it trembled for mr。 rochester and his doom； it bemoaned him with bitter pity； it demanded him with ceaseless longing； and； impotent as a bird with both wings broken； it still quivered its shattered pinions in vain attempts to seek him。
worn out with this torture of thought； i rose to my knees。 night was e； and her planets were risen： a safe； still night： too serene for the panionship of fear。 we know that god is everywhere； but certainly we feel his presence most when his works are on the grandest scale spread before us； and it is in the unclouded night…sky； where his worlds wheel their silent course； that we read clearest his infinitude； his omnipotence； his omnipresence。 i had risen to my knees to pray for mr。 rochester。 looking up； i； with tear…dimmed eyes； saw the mighty milky…way。 remembering what it was—what countless systems there swept space like a soft trace of light—i felt the might and strength of god。 sure was i of his efficiency to save what he had made： convinced i grew that neither earth should perish； nor one of the souls it treasure
