more open quarter, my step is stayed-not by sound, not by sight, but
once more by a warning fragrance.
Sweet-briar and southernwood, jasmine, pink, and rose have long
been yielding their evening sacrifice of incense: this new scent is
neither of shrub nor flower; it is- I know it well- it is Mr.
Rochester's cigar. I look round and I listen. I see trees laden with
ripening fruit. I hear a nightingale warbling in a wood half a mile
off; no moving form is visible, no coming step audible; but that
perfume increases: I must flee. I make for the wicket leading to the
shrubbery, and I see Mr. Rochester entering. I step aside into the ivy
recess; he will not stay long: he will soon return whence he came, and
if I sit still he will never see me.
But no- eventide is as pleasant to him as to me, and this antique
garden as attractive; and he strolls on, now lifting the
gooseberry-tree branches to look at the fruit, large as plums, with
which they are laden; now taking a ripe cherry from the wall; now
stooping towards a knot of flowers, either to inhale their fragrance
or to admire the dew-beads on their petals. A great moth goes
humming by me; it alights on a plant at Mr. Rochester's foot: he
sees it, and bends to examine it.
'Now, he has his back towards me,' thought I, 'and he is occupied
too; perhaps, if I walk softly, I can slip away unnoticed.'
I trode on an edging of turf that the crackle of the pebbly
gravel might not betray me: he was standing among the beds at a yard
or two distant from where I had to pass; the moth apparently engaged
him. 'I shall get by very well,' I meditated. As I crossed his shadow,
thrown long over the garden by the moon, not yet risen high, he said
quietly, without turning-
'Jane, come and look at this fellow.'
I had made no noise: he had not eyes behind- could his shadow feel?
I started at first, and then I approached him.
'Look at his wings,' said he, 'he reminds me rather of a West
Indian insect; one does not often see so large and gay a night-rover
in England; there! he is flown.'
The moth roamed away. I was sheepishly retreating also; but Mr.
Rochester followed me, and when we reached the wicket, he said-
'Turn back: on so lovely a night it is a shame to sit in the house;
and surely no one can wish to go to bed while sunset is thus at
meeting with moonrise.'
It is one of my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes prompt
enough at an answer, there are times when it sadly fails me in framing
an excuse; and always the lapse occurs at some crisis, when a facile
word or plausible pretext is specially wanted to get me out of painful
embarrassment. I did not like to walk at this hour alone with Mr.
Rochester in the shadowy orchard; but I could not find a reason to
allege for leaving him. I followed with lagging step, and thoughts
busily bent on discovering a means of extrication; but he himself
looked so composed and so grave also, I became ashamed of feeling
any confusion: the evil- if evil existent or prospective there was-
seemed to lie with me only; his mind was unconscious and quiet.
'Jane,' he recommenced, as we entered the laurel walk, and slowly
strayed down in the direction of the sunk fence and the
horse-chestnut, 'Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer, is it not?'
'Yes, sir.'
'You must have become in some degree attached to the house,- you,
who have an eye for natural beauties, and a good deal of the organ
of Adhesiveness?'
'I am attached to it, indeed.'
'And though I don't comprehend how it is, I perceive you have
acquired a degree of regard for that foolish little child Adele,
too; and even for simple dame Fairfax?'
'Yes, sir; in different ways, I have an affection for both.'
'And would be sorry to part with them?'
'Yes.'
'Pity!' he said, and sighed and paused. 'It is always the way of
events in this life,' he continued presently: 'no sooner have you
got settled in a pleasant resting-place, than a voice calls out to you
to rise and move on, for the hour of repose is expired.'
'Must I move on, sir?' I asked. 'Must I leave Thornfield?'
'I believe you must, Jane. I am sorry, Janet, but I believe
indeed you must.'
This was a blow: but I did not let it prostrate me.
'Well, sir, I shall be ready when the order to march comes.'
'It is come now- I must give it to-night.'
'Then you are going to be married, sir?'
'Ex-act-ly- pre-cise-ly: with your usual acuteness, you have hit
the nail straight on the head.'
'Soon, sir?'
'Very soon, my- that is, Miss Eyre: and you'll remember, Jane,
the first time I, or Rumour, plainly intimated to you that it was my
intention to put my old bachelor's neck into the sacred noose, to
enter into the holy estate of matrimony- to take Miss Ingram to my
bosom, in short (she's an extensive armful: but that's not to the
point- one can't have too much of such a very excellent thing as my
beautiful Blanche): well, as I was saying- listen to me, Jane!
You're not turning your head to look after more moths, are you? That
was only a lady-clock, child, "flying away home." I wish to remind you
that it was you who first said to me, with that discretion I respect
in you- with that foresight, prudence, and humility which befit your
responsible and dependent position- that in case I married Miss
Ingram, both you and little Adele had better trot forthwith. I pass
over the sort of slur conveyed in this suggestion on the character
of my beloved; indeed, when you are far away, Janet, I'll try to
forget it: I shall notice only its wisdom; which is such that I have
made it my law of action. Adele must go to school; and you, Miss Eyre,
must get a new situation.'
'Yes, sir, I will advertise immediately: and meantime, I
suppose-' I was going to say, 'I suppose I may stay here, till I
find another shelter to betake myself to': but I stopped, feeling it
would not do to risk a long sentence, for my voice was not quite under
command.
'In about a month I hope to be a bridegroom,' continued Mr.
Rochester; 'and in the interim, I shall myself look out for employment
and an asylum for you.'
'Thank you, sir; I am sorry to give-'
'Oh, no need to apologise! I consider that when a dependant does
her duty as well as you have done yours, she has a sort of claim
upon her employer for any little assistance he can conveniently render
her; indeed I have already, through my future mother-in-law, heard
of a place that I think will suit: it is to undertake the education of
the five daughters of Mrs. Dionysius O'Gall of Bitternutt Lodge,
Connaught, Ireland. You'll like Ireland, I think: they're such
warmhearted people there, they say.'
'It is a long way off, sir.'
'No matter- a girl of your sense will not object to the voyage or
the distance.'
'Not the voyage, but the distance: and then the sea is a barrier-'
'From what, Jane?'
'From England and from Thornfield: and-'
'Well?'
'From you, sir.'
I said this almost involuntarily, and, with as little sanction of
free will, my tears gushed out. I did not cry so as to be heard,
however; I avoided sobbing. The thought of Mrs. O'Gall and
Bitternutt Lodge struck cold to my heart; and colder the thought of
all the brine and foam, destined, as it seemed, to rush between me and
the master at whose side I now walked, and coldest the remembrance
of the wider ocean- wealth, caste, custom intervened between me and
what I naturally and inevitably loved.
'It is a long way,' I again said.
'It is, to be sure; and when you get to Bitternutt Lodge,
Connaught, Ireland, I shall never see you again, Jane: that's
morally certain. I never go over to Ireland, not having myself much of
a fancy for the country. We have been good friends, Jane; have we
not?'
'Yes, sir.'
'And when friends are on the eve of separation, they like to
spend the little time that remains to them close to each other.
Come! we'll talk over the voyage and the parting quietly half an
hour or so, while the stars enter into their shining life up in heaven
yonder: here is the chestnut tree: here is the bench at its old roots.
Come, we will sit there in peace to-night, though we should never more
be destined to sit there together.' He seated me and himself.
'It is a long way to Ireland, Janet, and I am sorry to send my
little friend on such weary travels: but if I can't do better, how
is it to be helped? Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?'
I could risk no sort of answer by this time: my heart was still.
'Because,' he said, 'I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard
to you- especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a
string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably
knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of
your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel and two hundred
miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of
communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should
take to bleeding inwardly. As for you,- you'd forget me.'
'That I never should, sir: you know-' Impossible to proceed.
'Jane, do you hear that nightingale singing in the wood? Listen!'
In listening, I sobbed convulsively; for I could repress what I
endured no longer; I was obliged to yield, and I was shaken from
head to foot with acute distress. When I did speak, it was only to
express an impetuous wish that I had never been born, or never come to
Thornfield.
'Because you are sorry to leave it?'
The vehemence of emotion, stirred by grief and love within me,
was claiming mastery, and struggling for full sway, and asserting a
right to predominate, to overcome, to live, rise, and reign at last:
yes,- and to speak.
'I grieve to leave Thornfield: I love Thornfield:- I love it,
because I have lived in it a full and delightful life,- momentarily at
least. I have not been trampled on. I have not been petrified. I
have not been buried with inferior minds, and excluded from every
glimpse of communion with what is bright and energetic and high. I
have talked, face to face, with what I reverence, with what I
delight in,- with an original, a vigorous, an expanded mind. I have
known you, Mr. Rochester; and it strikes me with terror and anguish to
feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see the
necessity of departure; and it is like looking on the necessity of
death.'
'Where do you see the necessity?' he asked suddenly.
'Where? You, sir, have placed it before me.'
'In what shape?'
'In the shape of Miss Ingram; a noble and beautiful woman,- your
bride.'
'My bride! What bride? I have no bride!'
'But you will have.'
'Yes;- I will!'- I will!' He set his teeth.
'Then I must go:- you have said it yourself.'
'No: you must stay! I swear it- and the oath shall be kept.'
'I tell you I must go!' I retorted, roused to something like
passion. 'Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you
think I am an automaton?- a machine without feelings? and can bear
to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips, and my drop of
living water dashed from my cup? Do you think, because I am poor,
obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think
wrong!- I have as much soul as you,- and full as much heart! And if
God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made
it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am
not talking to you now through the medium of custom,
conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh;- it is my spirit that
addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave,
and we stood at God's feet, equal,- as we are!'
'As we are!' repeated Mr. Rochester- 'so,' he added, enclosing me
in his arms, gathering me to his breast, pressing his lips on my lips:
'so, Jane!'
'Yes, so, sir,' I rejoined: 'and yet not so; for you are a
married man- or as good as a married man, and wed to one inferior to
you- to one with whom you have no sympathy- whom I do not believe
you truly love; for I have seen and heard you sneer at her. I would
scorn such a union: therefore I am better than you- let me go!'
'Where, Jane? To Ireland?'
'Yes- to Ireland. I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere now.'
'Jane, be still; don't struggle so, like a wild frantic bird that
is rending its own plumage in its desperation.'
'I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with
an independent will, which I now exert to leave you.'
Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him.
'And your will shall decide your destiny,' he said: 'I offer you my
hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions.'
'You play a farce, which I merely laugh at.'
'I ask you to pass through life at my side- to be my second self,
and best earthly companion.'
'For that fate you have already made your choice, and must abide by
it.'
'Jane, be still a few moments: you are over-excited: I will be
