'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.'
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CHAPTER XXI
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PRESENTIMENTS are strange things! and so are sympathies; and so are
signs; and the three combined 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 comprehension. 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 companionship 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 common 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 companions 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 tidings 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 recommended 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 the moment- it was very graceful and very
striking: she wore a morning robe of sky-blue crape; a gauzy azure
scarf was twisted in her hair. She had been all animation with the
game, and irritated pride did not lower the expression of her
haughty lineaments.
'Does that person want you?' she inquired of Mr. Rochester; and Mr.
Rochester turned to see who the 'person' was. He made a curious
grimace- one of his strange and equivocal demonstrations- threw down
his cue and followed me from the room.
'Well, Jane?' he said, as he rested his back against the
school-room door, which he had shut.
'If you please, sir, I want leave of absence for a week or two.'
'What to do?- where to go?'
'To see a sick lady who has sent for me.'
'What sick lady?- where does she live?'
for people to see her that distance?'
'Her name is Reed sir- Mrs. Reed.'
'Reed of Gateshead? There was a Reed of Gateshead, a magistrate.'
'It is his widow, sir.'
'And what have you to do with her? How do you know her?'
'Mr. Reed was my uncle- my mother's brother.'
'The deuce he was! You never told me that before: you always said
you had no relations.'
'None that would own me, sir. Mr. Reed is dead, and his wife cast
me off.'
'Why?'
'Because I was poor, and burdensome, and she disliked me.'
'But Reed left children?- you must have cousins? Sir George Lynn
was talking of a Reed of Gateshead yesterday, who, he said, was one of
the veriest rascals on town; and Ingram was mentioning a Georgiana
Reed of the same place, who was much admired for her beauty a season
or two ago in London.'
'John Reed is dead, too, sir: he ruined himself and half-ruined his
family, and is supposed to have committed suicide. The news so shocked
his mother that it brought on an apoplectic attack.'
'And what good can you do her? Nonsense, Jane! I would never
think of running a hundred miles to see an old lady who will, perhaps,
be dead before you reach her: besides, you say she cast you off.'
'Yes, sir, but that is long ago; and when her circumstances were
very different: I could not be easy to neglect her wishes now.'
'How long will you stay?'
'As short a time as possible, sir.'
'Promise me only to stay a week-'
'I had better not pass my word: I might be obliged to break it.'
'At all events you will come back: you will not be induced under
any pretext to take up a permanent residence with her?'
'Oh, no! I shall certainly return if all be well.'
'And who goes with you? You don't travel a hundred miles alone.'
'No, sir, she has sent her coachman.'
'A person to be trusted?'
'Yes, sir, he has lived ten years in the family.'
Mr. Rochester meditated. 'When do you wish to go?'
'Early to-morrow morning, sir.'
'Well, you must have some money; you can't travel without money,
and I daresay you have not much: I have given you no salary yet. How
much have you in the world, Jane?' he asked, smiling.
I drew out my purse; a meagre thing it was. 'Five shillings,
sir.' He took the purse, poured the hoard into his palm, and
chuckled over it as if its scantiness amused him. Soon he produced his
pocket-book: 'Here,' said he, offering me a note; it was fifty pounds,
and he owed me but fifteen. I told him I had no change.
'I don't want change; you know that. Take your wages.'
I declined accepting more than was my due. He scowled at first;
then, as if recollecting something, he said-
'Right, right! Better not give you all now: you would, perhaps,
stay away three months if you had fifty pounds. There are ten; is it
not plenty?'
'Yes, sir, but now you owe me five.'
'Come back for it, then; I am your banker for forty pounds.'
'Mr. Rochester, I may as well mention another matter of business to
you while I have the opportunity.'
'Matter of business? I am curious to hear it.'
'You have as good as informed me, sir, that you are going shortly
to be married?'
'Yes; what then?'
'In that case, sir, Adele ought to go to school: I am sure you will
perceive the necessity of it.'
'To get her out of my bride's way, who might otherwise walk over
her rather too emphatically? There's sense in the suggestion; not a
doubt of it. Adele, as you say, must go to school; and you, of course,
must march straight to- the devil?'
'I hope not, sir; but I must seek another situation somewhere.'
'In course!' he exclaimed, with a twang of voice and a distortion
of features equally fantastic and ludicrous. He looked at me some
minutes.
'And old Madam Reed, or the Misses, her daughters, will be
solicited by you to seek a place, I suppose?'
'No, sir; I am not on such terms with my relatives as would justify
me in asking favours of them- but I shall advertise.'
'You shall walk up the pyramids of Egypt!' he growled. 'At your
peril you advertise! I wish I had only offered you a sovereign instead
of ten pounds. Give me back nine pounds, Jane; I've a use for it.'
'And so have I, sir,' I returned, putting my hands and my purse
behind me. 'I could not spare the money on any account.'
'Little niggard!' said he, 'refusing me a pecuniary request! Give
me five pounds, Jane.'
'Not five shillings, sir; nor five pence.'
'Just let me look at the cash.'
'No, sir; you are not to be trusted.'
'Jane!'
'Sir?'
'Promise me one thing.'
'I'll promise you anything, sir, that I think I am likely to
perform.'
'Not to advertise: and to trust this quest of a situation to me.
I'll find you one in time.'
'I shall be glad so to do, sir, if you, in your turn, will
promise that I and Adele shall be both safe out of the house before
your bride enters it.'
'Very well! very well! I'll pledge my word on it. You go to-morrow,
