小说园

第59部分（第2页）

Still　holding　me　fast；　he　left　the　church：　the　three　gentlemen　came　after。　At　the　front　door　of　the　hall　we　found　the　carriage。

“Take　it　back　to　the　coach…house；　John；”　said　Mr。　Rochester　coolly；　“it　will　not　be　wanted　to…day。”

At　our　entrance；　Mrs。　Fairfax；　Adèle；　Sophie；　Leah；　advanced　to　meet　and　greet　us。

“To　the　right…about—every　soul！”　cried　the　master；　“away　with　your　congratulations！　Who　wants　them？　Not　I！—they　are　fifteen　years　too　late！”

He　passed　on　and　ascended　the　stairs；　still　holding　my　hand；　and　still　beckoning　the　gentlemen　to　follow　him；　which　they　did。　We　mounted　the　first　staircase；　passed　up　the　gallery；　proceeded　to　the　third　storey：　the　low；　black　door；　opened　by　Mr。　Rochester’s　master…key；　admitted　us　to　the　tapestried　room；　with　its　great　bed　and　its　pictorial　cabi。

“You　know　this　place；　Mason；”　said　our　guide；　“she　bit　and　stabbed　you　here。”

He　lifted　the　hangings　from　the　wall；　uncovering　the　second　door：　this；　too；　he　opened。　In　a　room　without　a　window；　there　burnt　a　fire　guarded　by　a　high　and　strong　fender；　and　a　lamp　suspended　from　the　ceiling　by　a　chain。　Grace　Poole　bent　over　the　fire；　apparently　cooking　something　in　a　saucepan。　In　the　deep　shade；　at　the　farther　end　of　the　room；　a　figure　ran　backwards　and　forwards。　What　it　was；　whether　beast　or　human　being；　one　could　not；　at　first　sight；　tell：　it　grovelled；　seemingly；　on　all　fours；　it　snatched　and　growled　like　some　strange　wild　animal：　but　it　was　covered　with　clothing；　and　a　quantity　of　dark；　grizzled　hair；　wild　as　a　mane；　hid　its　head　and　face。

“Good…morrow；　Mrs。　Poole！”　said　Mr。　Rochester。　“How　are　you？　and　how　is　your　charge　to…day？”

“We’re　tolerable；　sir；　I　thank　you；”　replied　Grace；　lifting　the　boiling　mess　carefully　on　to　the　hob：　“rather　snappish；　but　not　‘rageous。”

A　fierce　cry　seemed　to　give　the　lie　to　her　favourable　report：　the　clothed　hyena　rose　up；　and　stood　tall　on　its　hind…feet。

“Ah！　sir；　she　sees　you！”　exclaimed　Grace：　“you’d　better　not　stay。”

“Only　a　few　moments；　Grace：　you　must　allow　me　a　few　moments。”

“Take　care　then；　sir！—for　God’s　sake；　take　care！”

The　maniac　bellowed：　she　parted　her　shaggy　locks　from　her　visage；　and　gazed　wildly　at　her　visitors。　I　recognised　well　that　purple　face；—those　bloated　features。　Mrs。　Poole　advanced。

“Keep　out　of　the　way；”　said　Mr。　Rochester；　thrusting　her　aside：　“she　has　no　knife　now；　I　suppose；　and　I’m　on　my　guard。”

“One　never　knows　what　she　has；　sir：　she　is　so　cunning：　it　is　not　in　mortal　discretion　to　fathom　her　craft。”

“We　had　better　leave　her；”　whispered　Mason。

“Go　to　the　devil！”　was　his　brother…in…law’s　remendation。

“‘Ware！”　cried　Grace。　The　three　gentlemen　retreated　simultaneously。　Mr。　Rochester　flung　me　behind　him：　the　lunatic　sprang　and　grappled　his　throat　viciously；　and　laid　her　teeth　to　his　cheek：　they　struggled。　She　was　a　big　woman；　in　stature　almost　equalling　her　husband；　and　corpulent　besides：　she　showed　virile　force　in　the　contest—more　than　once　she　almost　throttled　him；　athletic　as　he　was。　He　could　have　settled　her　with　a　well…planted　blow；　but　he　would　not　strike：　he　would　only　wrestle。　At　last　he　mastered　her　arms；　Grace　Poole　gave　him　a　cord；　and　he　pinioned　them　behind　her：　with　more　rope；　which　was　at　hand；　he　bound　her　to　a　chair。　The　operation　was　performed　amidst　the　fiercest　yells　and　the　most　convulsive　plunges。　Mr。　Rochester　then　turned　to　the　spectators：　he　looked　at　them　with　a　smile　both　acrid　and　desolate。

“That　is　my　wife；”　said　he。　“Such　is　the　sole　conjugal　embrace　I　am　ever　to　know—such　are　the　endearments　which　are　to　solace　my　leisure　hours！　And　THIS　is　what　I　wished　to　have”　（laying　his　hand　on　my　shoulder）：　“this　young　girl；　who　stands　so　grave　and　quiet　at　the　mouth　of　hell；　looking　collectedly　at　the　gambols　of　a　demon；　I　wanted　her　just　as　a　change　after　that　fierce　ragout。　Wood　and　Briggs；　look　at　the　difference！　pare　these　clear　eyes　with　the　red　balls　yonder—this　face　with　that　mask—this　form　with　that　bulk；　then　judge　me；　priest　of　the　gospel　and　man　of　the　law；　and　remember　with　what　judgment　ye　judge　ye　shall　be　judged！　Off　with　you　now。　I　must　shut　up　my　prize。”

We　all　withdrew。　Mr。　Rochester　stayed　a　moment　behind　us；　to　give　some　further　order　to　Grace　Poole。　The　solicitor　addressed　me　as　he　descended　the　stair。

“You；　madam；”　said　he；　“are　cleared　from　all　blame：　your　uncle　will　be　glad　to　hear　it—if；　indeed；　he　should　be　still　living—when　Mr。　Mason　returns　to　Madeira。”

“My　uncle！　What　of　him？　Do　you　know　him？”

“Mr。　Mason　does。　Mr。　Eyre　has　been　the　Funchal　correspondent　of　his　house　for　some　years。　When　your　uncle　received　your　letter　intimating　the　contemplated　union　between　yourself　and　Mr。　Rochester；　Mr。　Mason；　who　was　staying　at　Madeira　to　recruit　his　health；　on　his　way　back　to　Jamaica；　happened　to　be　with　him。　Mr。　Eyre　mentioned　the　intelligence；　for　he　knew　that　my　client　here　was　acquainted　with　a　gentleman　of　the　name　of　Rochester。　Mr。　Mason；　astonished　and　distressed　as　you　may　suppose；　revealed　the　real　state　of　matters。　Your　uncle；　I　am　sorry　to　say；　is　now　on　a　sick　bed；　from　which；　considering　the　nature　of　his　disease—decline—and　the　stage　it　has　reached；　it　is　unlikely　he　will　ever　rise。　He　could　not　then　hasten　to　England　himself；　to　extricate　you　from　the　snare　into　which　you　had　fallen；　but　he　implored　Mr。　Mason　to　lose　no　time　in　taking　steps　to　prevent　the　false　marriage。　He　referred　him　to　me　for　assistance。　I　used　all　despatch；　and　am　thankful　I　was　not　too　late：　as　you；　doubtless；　must　be　also。　Were　I　not　morally　certain　that　your　uncle　will　be　dead　ere　you　reach　Mad