still too.'
A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel-walk and trembled
through the boughs of the chestnut: it wandered away- away- to an
indefinite distance- it died. The nightingale's song was then the only
voice of the hour: in listening to it, I again wept. Mr. Rochester sat
quiet, looking at me gently and seriously. Some time passed before
he spoke; he at last said-
'Come to my side, Jane, and let us explain and understand one
another.'
'I will never again come to your side: I am torn away now, and
cannot return.'
'But, Jane, I summon you as my wife: it is you only I intend to
marry.'
I was silent: I thought he mocked me.
'Come, Jane- come hither.'
'Your bride stands between us.'
He rose, and with a stride reached me.
'My bride is here,' he said, again drawing me to him, 'because my
equal is here, and my likeness. Jane, will you marry me?'
Still I did not answer, and still I writhed myself from his
grasp: for I was still incredulous.
'Do you doubt me, Jane?'
'Entirely.'
'You have no faith in me?'
'Not a whit.'
'Am I a liar in your eyes?' he asked passionately. 'Little sceptic,
you shall be convinced. What love have I for Miss Ingram? None: and
that you know. What love has she for me? None: as I have taken pains
to prove: I caused a rumour to reach her that my fortune was not a
third of what was supposed, and after that I presented myself to see
the result; it was coldness both from her and her mother. I would not-
I could not- marry Miss Ingram. You- you strange, you almost unearthly
thing!- I love as my own flesh. You- poor and obscure, and small and
plain as you are- I entreat to accept me as a husband.'
'What, me!' I ejaculated, beginning in his earnestness- and
especially in his incivility- to credit his sincerity: 'me who have
not a friend in the world but you- if you are my friend: not a
shilling but what you have given me?'
'You, Jane, I must have you for my own- entirely my own. Will you
be mine? Say yes, quickly.'
'Mr. Rochester, let me look at your face: turn to the moonlight.'
'Why?'
'Because I want to read your countenance- turn!'
'There! you will find it scarcely more legible than a crumpled,
scratched page. Read on: only make haste, for I suffer.'
His face was very much agitated and very much flushed, and there
were strong workings in the features, and strange gleams in the eyes.
'Oh, Jane, you torture me!' he exclaimed. 'With that searching
and yet faithful and generous look, you torture me!'
'How can I do that? If you are true, and your offer real, my only
feelings to you must be gratitude and devotion- they cannot torture.'
'Gratitude!' he ejaculated; and added wildly- 'Jane, accept me
quickly. Say, Edward- give me my name- Edward- I will marry you.'
'Are you in earnest? Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wish me
to be your wife?'
'I do; and if an oath is necessary to satisfy you, I swear it.'
'Then, sir, I will marry you.'
'Edward- my little wife!'
'Dear Edward!'
'Come to me- come to me entirely now,' said he; and added, in his
deepest tone, speaking in my ear as his cheek was laid on mine,
'Make my happiness- I will make yours.'
'God pardon me!' he subjoined ere long; 'and man meddle not with
me: I have her, and will hold her.'
'There is no one to meddle, sir. I have no kindred to interfere.'
'No- that is the best of it,' he said. And if I had loved him
less I should have thought his accent and look of exultation savage;
but, sitting by him, roused from the nightmare of parting- called to
the paradise of union- I thought only of the bliss given me to drink
in so abundant a flow. Again and again he said, 'Are you happy, Jane?'
And again and again I answered, 'Yes,' After which he murmured, 'It
will atone- it will atone. Have I not found her friendless, and
cold, and comfortless? Will I not guard, and cherish, and solace
her? Is there not love in my heart, and constancy in my resolves? It
will expiate at God's tribunal. I know my Maker sanctions what I do.
For the world's judgment- I wash my hands thereof. For man's
opinion- I defy it.'
But what had befallen the night? The moon was not yet set, and we
were all in shadow: I could scarcely see my master's face, near as I
was. And what ailed the chestnut tree? it writhed and groaned; while
wind roared in the laurel walk, and came sweeping over us.
'We must go in,' said Mr. Rochester: 'the weather changes. I
could have sat with thee till morning, Jane.'
'And so,' thought I, 'could I with you.' I should have said so,
perhaps, but a livid, vivid spark leapt out of a cloud at which I
was looking, and there was a crack, a crash, and a close rattling
peal; and I thought only of hiding my dazzled eyes against Mr.
Rochester's shoulder.
The rain rushed down. He hurried me up the walk, through the
grounds, and into the house; but we were quite wet before we could
pass the threshold. He was taking off my shawl in the hall, and
shaking the water out of my loosened hair, when Mrs. Fairfax emerged
from her room. I did not observe her at first, nor did Mr.
Rochester. The lamp was lit. The dock was on the stroke of twelve.
'Hasten to take off your wet things,' said he; 'and before you
go, good-night- good-night, my darling!'
He kissed me repeatedly. When I looked up, on leaving his arms,
there stood the widow, pale, grave, and amazed. I only smiled at
her, and ran upstairs. 'Explanation will do for another time,' thought
I. Still, when I reached my chamber, I felt a pang at the idea she
should even temporarily misconstrue what she had seen. But joy soon
effaced every other feeling; and loud as the wind blew, near and
deep as the thunder crashed, fierce and frequent as the lightning
gleamed, cataract-like as the rain fell during a storm of two hours'
duration, I experienced no fear and little awe. Mr. Rochester came
thrice to my door in the course of it, to ask if I was safe and
tranquil: and that was comfort, that was strength for anything.
Before I left my bed in the morning, little Adele came running in
to tell me that the great horse-chestnut at the bottom of the
orchard had been struck by lightning in the night, and half of it
split away.
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CHAPTER XXIV
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AS I rose and dressed, I thought over what had happened, and
wondered if it were a dream. I could not be certain of the reality
till I had seen Mr. Rochester again, and heard him renew his words
of love and promise.
While arranging my hair, I looked at my face in the glass, and felt
it was no longer plain: there was hope in its aspect and life in its
colour; and my eyes seemed as if they had beheld the fount of
fruition, and borrowed beams from the lustrous ripple. I had often
been unwilling to look at my master, because I feared he could not
be pleased at my look; but I was sure I might lift my face to his now,
and not cool his affection by its expression. I took a plain but clean
and light summer dress from my drawer and put it on: it seemed no
attire had ever so well become me, because none had I ever worn in
so blissful a mood.
I was not surprised, when I ran down into the hall, to see that a
brilliant June morning had succeeded to the tempest of the night;
and to feel, through the open glass door, the breathing of a fresh and
fragrant breeze. Nature must be gladsome when I was so happy. A
beggar-woman and her little boy- pale, ragged objects both- were
coming up the walk, and I ran down and gave them all the money I
happened to have in my purse- some three or four shillings: good or
bad, they must partake of my jubilee. The rooks cawed, and blither
birds sang; but nothing was so merry or so musical as my own rejoicing
heart.
Mrs. Fairfax surprised me by looking out of the window with a sad
countenance, and saying gravely- 'Miss Eyre, will you come to
breakfast?' During the meal she was quiet and cool: but I could not
undeceive her then. I must wait for my master to give explanations;
and so must she. I ate what I could, and then I hastened upstairs. I
met Adele leaving the schoolroom.
'Where are you going? It is time for lessons.'
'Mr. Rochester has sent me away to the nursery.'
'Where is he?'
'In there,' pointing to the apartment she had left; and I went
in, and there he stood.
'Come and bid me good-morning,' said he. I gladly advanced; and
it was not merely a cold word now, or even a shake of the hand that
I received, but an embrace and a kiss. It seemed natural: it seemed
genial to be so well loved, so caressed by him.
'Jane, you look blooming, and smiling, and pretty,' said he: 'truly
pretty this morning. Is this my pale, little elf? Is this my
mustard-seed? This little sunny-faced girl with the dimpled cheek
and rosy lips; the satin-smooth hazel hair, and the radiant hazel
eyes?' (I had green eyes, reader; but you must excuse the mistake: for
him they were new-dyed, I suppose.)
'It is Jane Eyre, sir.'
'Soon to be Jane Rochester,' he added: 'in four weeks, Janet; not a
day more. Do you hear that?'
I did, and I could not quite comprehend it: it made me giddy. The
feeling, the announcement sent through me, was something stronger than
was consistent with joy- something that smote and stunned: it was, I
think, almost fear.
'You blushed, and now you are white, Jane: what is that for?'
'Because you gave me a new name- Jane Rochester; and it seems so
strange.'
'Yes, Mrs. Rochester,' said he; 'young Mrs. Rochester- Fairfax
Rochester's girl-bride.'
'It can never be, sir; it does not sound likely. Human beings never
enjoy complete happiness in this world. I was not born for a different
destiny to the rest of my species: to imagine such a lot befalling
me is a fairy tale- a day-dream.'
'Which I can and will realise. I shall begin to-day. This morning I
wrote to my banker in London to send me certain jewels he has in his
keeping,- heirlooms for the ladies of Thornfield. In a day or two I
hope to pour them into your lap: for every privilege, every
attention shall be yours that I would accord a peer's daughter, if
about to marry her.'
'Oh, sir!- never mind jewels! I don't like to hear them spoken
of. Jewels for Jane Eyre sounds unnatural and strange: I would
rather not have them.'
'I will myself put the diamond chain round your neck, and the
circlet on your forehead,- which it will become: for nature, at least,
has stamped her patent of nobility on this brow, Jane; and I will
clasp the bracelets on these fine wrists, and load these fairy-like
fingers with rings.'
'No, no, sir! think of other subjects, and speak of other things,
and in another strain. Don't address me as if I were a beauty; I am
your plain, Quakerish governess.'
'You are a beauty in my eyes, and a beauty just after the desire of
my heart,- delicate and aerial.'
'Puny and insignificant, you mean. You are dreaming, sir,- or you
are sneering. For God's sake, don't be ironical!'
'I will make the world acknowledge you a beauty, too,' he went
on, while I really became uneasy at the strain he had adopted, because
I felt he was either deluding himself or trying to delude me. 'I
will attire my Jane in satin and lace, and she shall have roses in her
hair; and I will cover the head I love best with a priceless veil.'
'And then you won't know me, sir; and I shall not be your Jane Eyre
any longer, but an ape in a harlequin's jacket- a jay in borrowed
plumes. I would as soon see you, Mr. Rochester, tricked out in
stage-trappings, as myself clad in a court-lady's robe; and I don't
call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too
dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me.'
He pursued his theme, however, without noticing my deprecation.
'This very day I shall take you in the carriage to Millcote, and you
must choose some dresses for yourself. I told you we shall be
married in four weeks. The wedding is to take place quietly, in the
church down below yonder; and then I shall waft you away at once to
town. After a brief stay there, I shall bear my treasure to regions
nearer the sun: to French vineyards and Italian plains; and she
shall see whatever is famous in old story and in modern record: she
shall taste, too, of the life of cities; and she shall learn to
value herself by just comparison with others.'
'Shall I travel?- and with you, sir?'
'You shall sojourn at Paris, Rome, and Naples: at Florence, Venice,
and Vienna: all the ground I have wandered over shall be re-trodden by
you: wherever I stamped my hoof, your sylph's foot shall step also.
Ten years since, I flew through Europe half mad; with disgust, hate,
and rage as my companions: now I shall revisit it healed and
cleaned, with a very angel as my comforter.'
I laughed at him as he said this. 'I am not an angel,' I
