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簡愛CHAPTER XXXVI

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Jane Eyre
 

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CHAPTER XXXVI  Chinese
 

THE daylight came. I rose at dawn. I busied myself for an hour or two with arranging my things in my chamber, drawers, and wardrobe, in the order wherein I should wish to leave them during a brief absence. Meantime, I heard St. John quit his room. He stopped at my door: I feared he would knock- no, but a slip of paper was passed under the door. I took it up. It bore these words-
'You left me too suddenly last night. Had you stayed but a little longer, you would have laid your hand on the Christian's cross and the angel's crown. I shall expect your clear decision when I return this day fortnight. Meantime, watch and pray that you enter not into temptation: the spirit, I trust, is willing, but the flesh, I see, is weak. I shall pray for you hourly.- Yours, ST. JOHN.'

'My spirit,' I answered mentally, 'is willing to do what is right; and my flesh, I hope, is strong enough to accomplish the will of Heaven, when once that will is distinctly known to me. At any rate, it shall be strong enough to search- inquire- to grope an outlet from this cloud of doubt, and find the open day of certainty.'

It was the first of June; yet the morning was overcast and chilly: rain beat fast on my casement. I heard the front-door open, and St. John pass out. Looking through the window, I saw him traverse the garden. He took the way over the misty moors in the direction of Whitcross- there he would meet the coach.

'In a few more hours I shall succeed you in that track, cousin,' thought I: 'I too have a coach to meet at Whitcross. I too have some to see and ask after in England, before I depart for ever.'

It wanted yet two hours of breakfast-time. I filled the interval in walking softly about my room, and pondering the visitation which had given my plans their present bent. I recalled that inward sensation I had experienced: for I could recall it, with all its unspeakable strangeness. I recalled the voice I had heard; again I questioned whence it came, as vainly as before: it seemed in me- not in the external world. I asked was it a mere nervous impression- a delusion? I could not conceive or believe: it was more like an inspiration. The wondrous shock of feeling had come like the earthquake which shook the foundations of Paul and Silas's prison;  it had opened the doors of the soul's cell and loosed its bands- it had wakened it out of its sleep, whence it sprang trembling, listening, aghast; then vibrated thrice a cry on my startled ear, and in my quaking heart and through my spirit, which neither feared nor shook but exulted as if in joy over the success of one effort it had been privileged to make, independent of the cumbrous body.

'Ere many days,' I said, as I terminated my musings, 'I will know something of him whose voice seemed last night to summon me. Letters have proved of no avail- personal inquiry shall replace them.'

At breakfast I announced to Diana and Mary that I was going a journey, and should be absent at least four days.

'Alone, Jane?' they asked.

'Yes; it was to see or hear news of a friend about whom I had for some time been uneasy.'

They might have said, as I have no doubt they thought, that they had believed me to be without any friends save them: for, indeed, I had often said so; but, with their true natural delicacy, they abstained from comment, except that Diana asked me if I was sure I was well enough to travel. I looked very pale, she observed. I replied, that nothing ailed me save anxiety of mind, which I hoped soon to alleviate.

It was easy to make my further arrangements; for I was troubled with no inquiries- no surmises. Having once explained to them that I could not now be explicit about my plans, they kindly and wisely acquiesced in the silence with which I pursued them, according to me the privilege of free action I should under similar circumstances have accorded them.

I left Moor House at three o'clock P.M., and soon after four I stood at the foot of the sign-post of Whitcross, waiting the arrival of the coach which was to take me to distant Thornfield. Amidst the silence of those solitary roads and desert hills, I heard it approach from a great distance. It was the same vehicle whence, a year ago, I had alighted one summer evening on this very spot- how desolate, and hopeless, and objectless! It stopped as I beckoned. I entered- not now obliged to part with my whole fortune as the price of its accommodation. Once more on the road to Thornfield, I felt like the messenger-pigeon flying home.

It was a journey of six-and-thirty hours. I had set out from Whitcross on a Tuesday afternoon, and early on the succeeding Thursday morning the coach stopped to water the horses at a wayside inn, situated in the midst of scenery whose green hedges and large fields and low pastoral hills (how mild of feature and verdant of hue compared with the stern North-Midland moors of Morton!) met my eye like the lineaments of a once familiar face. Yes, I knew the character of this landscape: I was sure we were near my bourne.

'How far is Thornfield Hall from here?' I asked of the ostler.

'Just two miles, ma'am, across the fields.'

'My journey is closed,' I thought to myself. I got out of the coach, gave a box I had into the ostler's charge, to be kept till I called for it; paid my fare; satisfied the coachman, and was going: the brightening day gleamed on the sign of the inn, and I read in gilt letters, 'The Rochester Arms.' My heart leapt up: I was already on my master's very lands. It fell again: the thought struck it:-

'Your master himself may be beyond the British Channel, for aught you know: and then, if he is at Thornfield Hall, towards which you hasten, who besides him is there? His lunatic wife: and you have nothing to do with him: you dare not speak to him or seek his presence. You have lost your labour- you had better go no farther,' urged the monitor. 'Ask information of the people at the inn; they can give you all you seek: they can solve your doubts at once. Go up to that man, and inquire if Mr. Rochester be at home.'

The suggestion was sensible, and yet I could not force self to act on it. I so dreaded a reply that would crush me with despair. To prolong doubt was to prolong hope. I might yet once more see the Hall under the ray of her star. There was the stile before me- the very fields through which I had hurried, blind, deaf, distracted with a revengeful fury tracking and scourging me, on the morning I fled from Thornfield: ere I well knew what course I had resolved to take, I was in the midst of them. How fast I walked! How I ran sometimes? How I looked forward to catch the first view of the well-known woods! With what feelings I welcomed single trees I knew, and familiar glimpses of meadow and hill between them!

At last the woods rose; the rookery clustered dark; a loud cawing broke the morning stillness. Strange delight inspired me: on I hastened. Another field crossed- a lane threaded- and there were the courtyard walls- the back offices: the house itself, the rookery still hid. 'My first view of it shall be in front,' I determined, 'where its bold battlements will strike the eye nobly at once, and where I can single out my master's very window: perhaps he will be standing at it- he rises early: perhaps he is now walking in the orchard, or on the pavement in front. Could I but see him!- but a moment? Surely, in that case, I should not be so mad as to run to him? I cannot tell- I am not certain. And if I did- what then? God bless him! What then? Who would be hurt by my once more tasting the life his glance can give me?

I rave: perhaps at this moment he is watching the sun rise over the Pyrenees, or on the tideless sea of the south.'

I had coasted along the lower wall of the orchard- turned its angle: there was a gate just there, opening into the meadow, between two stone pillars crowned by stone balls. From behind one pillar I could peep round quietly at the full front of the mansion. I advanced my head with precaution, desirous to ascertain if any bedroom window-blinds were yet drawn up: battlements, windows, long front- all from this sheltered station were at my command.

The crows sailing overhead perhaps watched me while I took this survey. I wonder what they thought. They must have considered I was very careful and timid at first, and that gradually I grew very bold and reckless. A peep, and then a long stare; and then a departure from my niche and a straying out into the meadow; and a sudden stop full in front of the great mansion, and a protracted, hardy gaze towards it.

'What affectation of diffidence was this at first?' they might have demanded; 'what stupid regardlessness now?'

Hear an illustration, reader.

A lover finds his mistress asleep on a mossy bank; he wishes to catch a glimpse of her fair face without waking her. He steals softly over the grass, careful to make no sound; he pauses- fancying she has stirred: he withdraws; not for worlds would he be seen. All is still: he again advances: he bends above her; a light veil rests on her features: he lifts it, bends lower; now his eyes anticipate the vision of beauty- warm, and blooming, and lovely, in rest. How hurried was their first glance! But how they fix! How he starts! How he suddenly and vehemently clasps in both arms the form he dared not, a moment since, touch with his finger! How he calls aloud a name, and drops his burden, and gazes on it wildly! He thus grasps and cries, and gazes, because he no longer fears to waken by any sound he can utter- by any movement he can make. He thought his love slept sweetly: he finds she is stone dead.

I looked with timorous joy towards a stately house: I saw a blackened ruin.

No need to cower behind a gate-post, indeed!- to peep up at chamber lattices, fearing life was astir behind them! No need to listen for doors opening- to fancy steps on the pavement or the gravel-walk!

The lawn, the grounds were trodden and waste: the portal yawned void. The front was, as I had once seen it in a dream, but a shell-like wall, very high and very fragile-looking, perforated with paneless windows: no roof, no battlements, no chimneys- all had crashed in.

And there was the silence of death about it: the solitude of a lonesome wild. No wonder that letters addressed to people here had never received an answer: as well despatch epistles to a vault in a church aisle. The grim blackness of the stones told by what fate the Hall had fallen- by conflagration: but how kindled? What story belonged to this disaster? What loss, besides mortar and marble and woodwork had followed upon it? Had life been wrecked as well as property? If so, whose? Dreadful question: there was no one here to answer it- not even dumb sign, mute token.

In wandering round the shattered walls and through the devastated interior, I gathered evidence that the calamity was not of late occurrence. Winter snows, I thought, had drifted through that void arch, winter rains beaten in at those hollow casements; for, amidst the drenched piles of rubbish, spring had cherished vegetation: grass and weed grew here and there between the stones and fallen rafters. And oh! where meantime was the hapless owner of this wreck?

In what land? Under what auspices? My eye involuntarily wandered to the grey church tower near the gates, and I asked, 'Is he with Damer de Rochester, sharing the shelter of his narrow marble house?'

Some answer must be had to these questions. I could find it nowhere but at the inn, and thither, ere long, I returned. The host himself brought my breakfast into the parlour. I requested him to shut the door and sit down: I had some questions to ask him. But when he complied, I scarcely knew how to begin; such horror had I of the possible answers. And yet the spectacle of desolation I had just left prepared me in a measure for a tale of misery. The host was a respectable-looking, middle-aged man.

'You know Thornfield Hall, of course?' I managed to say at last.

'Yes, ma'am; I lived there once.'

'Did you?' Not in my time, I thought: you are a stranger to me.

'I was the late Mr. Rochester's butler,' he added.

The late! I seem to have received, with full force, the blow I had been trying to evade.

'The late!' I gasped. 'Is he dead?'

'I mean the present gentleman, Mr. Edward's father,' he explained. I breathed again: my blood resumed its flow. Fully assured by these words that Mr. Edward- my Mr. Rochester (God bless him, wherever he was!)- was at least alive: was, in short, 'the present gentleman.' Gladdening words! It seemed I could hear all that was to come- whatever the disclosures might be- with comparative tranquillity. Since he was not in the grave, I could bear, I thought, to learn that he was at the Antipodes.

'Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?' I asked, knowing, of course, what the answer would be, but yet desirous of deferring the direct question as to where he really was.

'No, ma'am- oh, no! No one is living there. I suppose you are a stranger in these parts, or you would have heard what happened last autumn,- Thornfield Hall is quite a ruin: it was burnt down just about harvest-time. A dreadful calamity! such an immense quantity of valuable property destroyed: hardly any of the furniture could be saved. The fire broke out at dead of night, and before the engines arrived from Millcote, the building was one mass of flame. It was a terrible spectacle: I witnessed it myself.'

'At dead of night!' I muttered. Yes, that was ever the hour of fatality at Thornfield. 'Was it known how it originated?' I demanded.

'They guessed, ma'am: they guessed. Indeed, I should say it was ascertained beyond a doubt. You are not perhaps aware,' he continued, edging his chair a little nearer the table, and speaking low, 'that there was a lady- a- a lunatic, kept in the house?'

'I have heard something of it.'

'She was kept in very close confinement, ma'am; people even for some years was not absolutely certain of her existence. No one saw her: they only knew by rumour that such a person was at the Hall;

and who or what she was it was difficult to conjecture. They said Mr. Edward had brought her from abroad, and some believed she had been his mistress. But a queer thing happened a year since- a very queer thing.'

I feared now to hear my own story. I endeavoured to recall him to the main fact.

'And this lady?'

'This lady, ma'am,' he answered, 'turned out to be Mr. Rochester's wife! The discovery was brought about in the strangest way. There was a young lady, a governess at the Hall, that Mr. Rochester fell in-'

'But the fire,' I suggested.

'I'm coming to that, ma'am- that Mr. Edward fell in love with. The servants say they never saw anybody so much in love as he was: he was after her continually. They used to watch him- servants will, you know, ma'am- and he set store on her past everything: for all, nobody but him thought her so very handsome. She was a little small thing, they say, almost like a child. I never saw her myself; but I've heard Leah, the housemaid, tell of her. Leah liked her well enough.

Mr. Rochester was about forty, and this governess not twenty; and you see, when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls, they are often like as if they were bewitched. Well, he would marry her.'

'You shall tell me this part of the story another time,' I said; 'but now I have a particular reason for wishing to hear all about the fire. Was it suspected that this lunatic, Mrs. Rochester, had any hand in it?'

'You've hit it, ma'am: it's quite certain that it was her, and nobody but her, that set it going. She had a woman to take care of her called Mrs. Poole- an able woman in her line, and very trustworthy, but for one fault- a fault common to a deal of them nurses and matrons- she kept a private bottle of gin by her, and now and then took a drop over-much. It is excusable, for she had a hard life of it: but still it was dangerous; for when Mrs. Poole was fast asleep after the gin and water, the mad lady, who was as cunning as a witch, would take the keys out of her pocket, let herself out of her chamber, and go roaming about the house, doing any wild mischief that came into her head. They say she had nearly burnt her husband in his bed once: but I don't know about that. However, on this night, she set fire first to the hangings of the room next her own, and then she got down to a lower Storey, and made her way to the chamber that had been the governess's- (she was like as if she knew somehow how matters had gone on, and had a spite at her)- and she kindled the bed there; but there was nobody sleeping in it, fortunately. The governess had run away two months before; and for all Mr. Rochester sought her as if she had been the most precious thing he had in the world, he never could hear a word of her; and he grew savage- quite savage on his disappointment: he never was a wild man, but he got dangerous after he lost her. He would be alone, too. He sent Mrs. Fairfax, the housekeeper, away to her friends at a distance; but he did it handsomely, for he settled an annuity on her for life: and she deserved it- she was a very good woman. Miss Adele, a ward he had, was put to school. He broke off acquaintance with all the gentry, and shut himself up like a hermit at the Hall.'

'What! did he not leave England?'

'Leave England? Bless you, no! He would not cross the door-stones of the house, except at night, when he walked just like a ghost about the grounds and in the orchard as if he had lost his senses- which it is my opinion he had; for a more spirited, bolder, keener gentleman than he was before that midge of a governess crossed him, you never saw, ma'am. He was not a man given to wine, or cards, or racing, as some are, and he was not so very handsome; but he had a courage and a will of his own, if ever man had. I knew him from a boy, you see: and for my part, I have often wished that Miss Eyre had been sunk in the sea before she came to Thornfield Hall.'

'Then Mr. Rochester was at home when the fire broke out?'

'Yes, indeed was he; and he went up to the attics when all was burning above and below, and got the servants out of their beds and helped them down himself, and went back to get his mad wife out of her cell. And then they called out to him that she was on the roof, where she was standing, waving her arms, above the battlements, and shouting out till they could hear her a mile off: I saw her and heard her with my own eyes. She was a big woman, and had long black hair: we could see it streaming against the flames as she stood. I witnessed, and several more witnessed, Mr. Rochester ascend through the skylight on to the roof; we heard him call "Bertha!" We saw him approach her; and then, ma'am, she yelled and gave a spring, and the next minute she lay smashed on the pavement.'

'Dead?'

'Dead! Ay, dead as the stones on which her brains and blood were scattered.'

'Good God!'

'You may well say so, ma'am: it was frightful!'

He shuddered.

'And afterwards?' I urged.

'Well, ma'am, afterwards the house was burnt to the ground: there are only some bits of walls standing now.'

'Were any other lives lost?'

'No- perhaps it would have been better if there had.'

'What do you mean?'

'Poor Mr. Edward!' he ejaculated, 'I little thought ever to have seen it? Some say it was a just judgment on him for keeping his first marriage secret, and wanting to take another wife while he had one living: but I pity him, for my part.'

'You said he was alive?' I exclaimed.

'Yes, yes: he is alive; but many think he had better be dead.'

'Why? How?' My blood was again running cold. 'Where is he?' I demanded. 'Is he in England?'

'Ay- ay- he's in England; he can't get out of England, I fancy- he's a fixture now.'

What agony was this! And the man seemed resolved to protract it.

'He is stone-blind,' he said at last. 'Yes, he is stone-blind, is Mr. Edward.'

I had dreaded worse. I had dreaded he was mad. I summoned strength to ask what had caused this calamity.

'It was all his own courage, and a body may say, his kindness, in a way, ma'am: he wouldn't leave the house till every one else was out before him. As he came down the great staircase at last, after Mrs.

Rochester had flung herself from the battlements, there was a great crash- all fell. He was taken out from under the ruins, alive, but sadly hurt: a beam had fallen in such a way as to protect him partly; but one eye was knocked out, and one hand so crushed that Mr. Carter, the surgeon, had to amputate it directly. The other eye inflamed: he lost the sight of that also. He is now helpless, indeed- blind and a cripple.'

'Where is he? Where does he now live?'

'At Ferndean, a manor-house on a farm he has, about thirty miles off: quite a desolate spot.'

'Who is with him?'

'Old John and his wife: he would have none else. He is quite broken down, they say.'

'Have you any sort of conveyance?'

'We have a chaise, ma'am, a very handsome chaise.'

'Let it be got ready instantly; and if your post-boy can drive me to Ferndean before dark this day, I'll pay both you and him twice the hire you usually demand.'
 

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簡 愛

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第三十六章
 
英文
 
 
白晝來臨,拂曉時(shí)我便起身了。我忙了一兩個(gè)小時(shí),根據(jù)短期外出的需要,把房間、抽屜和衣櫥里的東西作了安排。與此同時(shí),我聽到圣.約翰離開了房間,在我房門外停了一下,我擔(dān)心他會(huì)敲門——不,他沒有敲,卻從門底下塞進(jìn)來一個(gè)紙條,我拿起來一看,只見上面寫著:

“咋晚你離開我太突然了。要是你再呆一會(huì)兒,你就會(huì)把手放在基督的十字架和天使的皇冠上了。二周后的今天我回來時(shí)盼你已作出明確的決定。同時(shí),你要留心并祈禱,愿自己不受誘惑。我相信,靈是愿意的;但我也看到,肉是軟弱的。我會(huì)時(shí)時(shí)為你祈禱——你的,
圣.約翰。”

“我的靈,”我心里回答,“樂意做一切對(duì)的事情,我希望我的肉也很堅(jiān)強(qiáng),一旦明確上帝的意志、便有力量去實(shí)現(xiàn)它。無論如何,我的肉體是夠堅(jiān)強(qiáng)的,讓我可以去探求——詢問——摸索出路,驅(qū)散疑云,找到確然無疑的晴空。”

這是六月一日。早晨,滿天陰云,涼氣襲人,驟雨敲窗。我聽見前門開了,圣.約翰走了出去。透過窗子,我看到他走過花園,踏上霧蒙蒙的荒原,朝惠特克勞斯方向走去,——那兒他將搭上馬車。

“幾小時(shí)之后我會(huì)循著你的足跡,表兄,”我想:“我也要去惠特克勞斯搭乘馬車。在永遠(yuǎn)告別英國之前,我也有人要探望和問候。”

離早餐還有兩個(gè)小時(shí)。這段時(shí)間我在房間里輕輕地走來走去,思忖著促成我眼前這番計(jì)劃的奇事。我回憶著我所經(jīng)歷的內(nèi)在感覺,我能回想起那種難以言說的怪異。我回想著我聽到的聲音,再次像以前那樣徒勞地問,它究竟從何而來。這聲音似乎來自我內(nèi)心——而不是外部世界。我問道,難道這不過是一種神經(jīng)質(zhì)的印象——一種幻覺?我既無法想象,也并不相信。它更像是神靈的啟示。這驚人的震感來勢猛似地震,搖撼了保爾和西拉所在的監(jiān)獄的地基,它打開了心靈的牢門,松開了鎖鏈,——把心靈從沉睡中喚醒,它呆呆地顫栗著,傾聽著。隨后一聲尖叫震動(dòng)了三次,沖擊著我受驚的耳朵,沉入我震顫的心田,穿透了我心靈。心靈既不害怕,也沒有震驚,而是歡喜雀躍,仿佛因?yàn)橛行也皇艹林氐能|體支配,作了一次成功的努力而十分高興似的。

“不要很多天,”我從沉思中回過神來后說。“我會(huì)了解到他的一些情況,昨晚他的聲音已經(jīng)召喚過我。信函問詢已證明毫無結(jié)果——我要代之以親自探訪。”

早餐時(shí),我向黛安娜和瑪麗宣布,我要出門去,至少離開四天。

“一個(gè)人去嗎,簡?”她們問。

“是的,去看看,或者打聽一下一個(gè)朋友的消息,我已為他擔(dān)心了好久了。”

正如我明白她們?cè)谙氲哪菢?,她們本可以說,一直以為除了她們,我沒有別的朋友,其實(shí)我也總是這么講的。但出于天生真誠的體貼,她們沒有發(fā)表任何議論,除了黛安娜問我身體是否確實(shí)不錯(cuò),是否適宜旅行。她說我臉色蒼白。我回答說沒有什么不適,只不過內(nèi)心有些不安,但相信不久就會(huì)好的。

于是接下來的安排就容易了,因?yàn)槲也槐貫榕俑康缀蜄|猜西想而煩惱。我一向她們解釋,現(xiàn)在還不能明確宣布我的計(jì)劃,她們便聰明而善解人意地默許我悄然進(jìn)行,給了我在同樣情況下也會(huì)給予她們的自由行動(dòng)的特權(quán)。

下午三點(diǎn)我離開了沼澤居,四點(diǎn)后不久,我便已站在惠特克勞斯的路牌下,等待著馬車把我?guī)У竭b遠(yuǎn)的桑菲爾德去。在荒山野路的寂靜之中,我很遠(yuǎn)就聽到了馬車靠近了。一年前的一個(gè)夏夜,我就是從這輛馬車上走下來,就在這個(gè)地方——那么凄涼,那么無望,那么毫無目的!我一招手馬車便停了下來。我上了車——現(xiàn)在已不必為一個(gè)座位而傾囊所有了。我再次踏上去桑菲爾德的路途,真有信鴿飛回家園之感。

這是一段三十六小時(shí)的旅程。星期二下午從惠特克勞斯出發(fā),星期四一早,馬車在路邊的一家旅店停下,讓馬飲水。旅店座落在綠色的樹籬、寬闊的田野和低矮的放牧小山之中(與中北部莫爾頓嚴(yán)峻的荒原相比,這里的地形多么柔和,顏色何等蒼翠!),這番景色映入我眼簾,猶如一位一度熟悉的人的面容。不錯(cuò),我了解這里景物的特點(diǎn),我確信已接近目的地了。

“桑菲爾德離這兒有多遠(yuǎn)?”我問旅店侍馬人。

“穿過田野走兩英里就到了,小姐。”

“我的旅程結(jié)束了,”我暗自思忖。我跳下馬車,把身邊的一個(gè)盒子交給侍馬人保管,回頭再來提取,付了車錢,給足了馬夫,便啟程上路了。黎明的曙光照在旅店的招牌上,我看到了鍍金的字母“羅切斯特紋章”,心便砰砰亂跳,原來我已來到我主人的地界。但轉(zhuǎn)念一想,又心如止水了。

“也許你的主人在英吉利海峽彼岸。況且,就是他在你匆匆前往的桑菲爾德府,除了他還有誰也在那里呢?還有他發(fā)了瘋的妻子,而你與他毫不相干。你不敢同他說話,或者前去找他。你勞而無功——你還是別再往前走吧,”冥冥中的監(jiān)視者敦促道。“從旅店里的人那里探聽一下消息吧,他們會(huì)提供你尋覓的一切情況,立刻解開你的疑團(tuán),走到那個(gè)人跟前去,問問羅切斯特先生在不在家。”

這個(gè)建議很明智,但我無法迫使自己去實(shí)施。我害怕得到一個(gè)讓我絕望的回答。延長疑慮就是延長希望。我也許能再見一見星光照耀下的府第。我面前還是那道踏階——還是那片田野,那天早晨我逃離桑菲爾德,急急忙忙穿過這片田野,不顧一切,漫無目的,心煩意亂,被一種復(fù)仇的憤怒跟蹤著,痛苦地折磨著。呵,我還沒決定走哪條路,就己置身于這片田野之中了。我走得好快呀!有時(shí)候我那么奔跑著!我多么希望一眼就看到熟悉的林子呵,我是帶著怎樣的感情來歡迎我所熟悉的一棵棵樹木,以及樹與樹之間的草地和小山呵!

樹林終于出現(xiàn)在眼前,白嘴鴉黑壓壓一片,呱呱的響亮叫聲打破了清晨的寂靜。一種奇怪的喜悅激勵(lì)著我,使我急煎煎往前趕路,穿過另一片田野——走過一條小徑——看到了院墻——但后屋的下房、府摟本身、以及白嘴鴉的巢穴,依然隱而不見。“我第一眼看到的應(yīng)是府第的正面,”我心里很有把握,“那里雄偉醒目的城垛會(huì)立刻撲入眼簾;那里我能認(rèn)出我主人的那扇窗子,也許他會(huì)佇立窗前——他起得很早。也許他這會(huì)兒正漫步在果園里,或音前面鋪筑過的路上。要是我能見見他該多好!——就是一會(huì)兒也好!當(dāng)然要是那樣,我總不該發(fā)狂到向他直沖過去吧?我說不上來——我不敢肯定。要是我沖上去了——那又怎么樣?上帝祝福他!那又怎么樣?讓我回味一下他的目光所給予我的生命,又會(huì)傷害了誰呢?——我在囈語。也許此刻他在比利牛斯山或者南部風(fēng)平浪的的海面上規(guī)賞著日出呢。”

我信步朝果園的矮墻走去,在拐角處轉(zhuǎn)了彎,這里有一扇門,開向草地,門兩邊有兩根石柱,頂上有兩個(gè)石球。從一根石柱后面我可以悄然四顧,看到府宅的全部正面。我小心地探出頭去,很希望看個(gè)明白,是不是有的窗簾已經(jīng)卷起。從這個(gè)隱蔽的地方望去,城垛、窗子和府樓長長的正面,盡收眼底。

我這么觀察著的時(shí)候,在頭頂滑翔的烏鴉們也許正俯視著我。我不知道它們?cè)谙胧裁?,它們一定以為起初我十分小心和膽怯,但漸漸地我變得大膽而魯莽了。我先是窺視一下,隨后久久盯著,再后是離開我躲藏的角落,不經(jīng)意走進(jìn)了草地,突然在府宅正面停下腳步,久久地死盯著它。“起初為什么裝模做樣羞羞答答?”烏鴉們也許會(huì)問,“而這會(huì)兒又為什么傻里傻氣,不顧一切了?”

讀者呀,且聽我解釋。

一位情人發(fā)現(xiàn)他的愛人睡在長滿青苔的河岸上,他希望看一眼她漂亮的面孔而不驚醒她。他悄悄地踏上草地,注意不發(fā)出一點(diǎn)聲響,他停下腳步——想象她翻了個(gè)身。他往后退去,千方百計(jì)要不讓她看到。四周萬籟俱寂。他再次往前走去,向她低下頭去。她的臉上蓋著一塊輕紗。他揭開面紗,身子彎得更低了。這會(huì)兒他的眼睛期待著看到這個(gè)美人兒——安睡中顯得熱情、年青和可愛。他的第一眼多么急不可耐!但他兩眼發(fā)呆了:他多么吃驚!他又何等突然,何等激烈地緊緊抱住不久之前連碰都不敢碰的這個(gè)軀體,用手指去碰它!他大聲呼叫著一個(gè)名字,放下了抱著的身軀,狂亂地直愣愣瞧著它。他于是緊抱著,呼叫著,凝視著,因?yàn)樗辉贀?dān)心他發(fā)出的任何聲音,所做的任何動(dòng)作會(huì)把她驚醒。他以為他的愛人睡得很甜。但此發(fā)現(xiàn)她早己死去了。

我?guī)е由南矏偝没实母诳慈?,我看到了一片焦黑的廢墟。

沒有必要躲在門柱后面畏縮不前了,真的!——沒有必要偷偷地眺望房間的格子窗,而擔(dān)心窗后已有動(dòng)靜!沒有必要傾聽打開房門的聲音——沒有必要想象鋪筑過的路和砂石小徑上的腳步聲了,草地,庭院已踏得稀爛,一片荒蕪。入口的門空張著。府第的正門象我一次夢中所見的那樣,剩下了貝殼似的一堵墻,高高聳立,卻岌岌可危,布滿了沒有玻璃的窗孔。沒有屋頂,沒有城垛,沒有煙囪——全都倒塌了。

這里籠罩著死一般的沉寂和曠野的凄涼。怪不得給這兒的人寫信,仿佛是送信給教堂過道上的墓穴,從來得不到答復(fù)。黑森森的石頭訴說著府宅遭了什么厄運(yùn),一火災(zāi)。但又是怎么燒起來的呢?這場災(zāi)難的經(jīng)過加何?除了灰漿、大理石和木制品,還有什么其他損失呢,生命是不是象財(cái)產(chǎn)一樣遭到了毀滅?如果是,誰喪失了生命?這個(gè)可怕的問題,眼前沒有誰來回答——甚至連默默的跡象、無言的標(biāo)記都無法回答。

我徘徊在斷垣頹壁之間,穿行于殘破的府宅內(nèi)層之中,獲得了跡象,表明這場災(zāi)難不是最近發(fā)生的。我想,冬雪曾經(jīng)飄入空空的拱門,冬雨打在沒有玻璃的窗戶上。在一堆堆濕透了的垃圾中,春意催發(fā)了草木,亂石堆中和斷梁之間,處處長出了野草。呵!這片廢墟的主人又在哪里?他在哪個(gè)國度?在誰的保護(hù)之下?我的目光不由自主地飄向了大門邊灰色的教堂塔樓,我問道,“難道他已隨戴默爾.德.羅切斯特而去,共住在狹窄的大理石房子里?”

這些問題都得找到答案。而除了旅店,別處是找不到的。于是不久我便返回那里。老板親自把早餐端到客廳里來,我請(qǐng)他關(guān)了門,坐下來。我有些問題要問他,但待他答應(yīng)之后,我卻不知道從何開始了。我對(duì)可能得到的回答懷著一種恐俱感,然而剛才看到的那番荒涼景象,為一個(gè)悲慘的故事作好了一定的準(zhǔn)備。老板看上去是位體面的中年人。

“你當(dāng)然知道桑菲爾德府了?”我終于啟齒了。

“是的,小姐,我以前在那里住過。”

“是嗎?”不是我在的時(shí)候,我想。我覺得他很陌生。

“我是已故的羅切斯特先生的管家,”他補(bǔ)充道。

已故的!我覺得我避之不迭的打擊重重地落到我頭上了。

“已故的!”我透不過氣來了。“他死了?”

“我說的是現(xiàn)在的老爺,愛德華先生的父親,”他解釋說。我又喘過氣來了,我的血液也繼續(xù)流動(dòng)。他的這番話使我確信,愛德華先生——我的羅切斯特先生(無論他在何方,愿上帝祝福他?。┲辽龠€活著,總之還是“現(xiàn)在的老爺”,(多讓人高興的話?。┪宜坪跤X得,不管他會(huì)透露什么消息,我會(huì)比較平靜地去傾聽。我想,就是知道他在新西蘭和澳大利亞,我都能忍受。

“羅切斯特先生如今還住在桑菲爾德府嗎?”我問,當(dāng)然知道他會(huì)怎樣回答,但并不想馬上就直截了當(dāng)?shù)貑柶鹚拇_實(shí)住處。

“不,小姐——呵,不!那兒已沒有人住了,我想你對(duì)附近地方很陌生,不然你會(huì)聽到過去年秋天發(fā)生的事情。桑菲爾德府已經(jīng)全毀了。大約秋收的時(shí)候燒掉的——一場可怕的災(zāi)難!那么多值錢的財(cái)產(chǎn)都?xì)У袅?,幾乎沒有一件家具幸免?;馂?zāi)是深夜發(fā)生的,從米爾科特來的救火車還沒有開到,府宅已經(jīng)是一片熊熊大火。這景象真可怕,我是親眼見到的。”

“深夜!”我咕噥著。是呀,在桑菲爾德府那是致命的時(shí)刻。“知道是怎么引起的嗎?”我問。

“他們猜想,小姐,他們是這么猜想的,其實(shí),我該說那是確然無疑的。你也許不知道吧,”他往下說,把椅子往桌子稍稍挪了挪,聲音放得很低,“有一位夫人——一個(gè)——一個(gè)瘋子,關(guān)在屋子里?”

“我隱隱約約聽到過。”

“她被嚴(yán)加看管著,小姐。好幾年了,外人都不能完全確定有她這么個(gè)人在。沒有人見過她。他們只不過憑謠傳知道,府里有這樣一個(gè)人。她究竟是誰,干什么的,卻很難想象。他們說是愛德華先生從國外把她帶回來的。有人相信,是他的情婦。但一年前發(fā)生了一件奇怪的事情——一件非常奇怪的事情。”

我擔(dān)心這會(huì)兒要聽我自己的故事了。我竭力把他拉回到正題上。

“這位太太呢?”

“這位太太,小姐,”他回答,“原來就是羅切斯特先生的妻子!發(fā)現(xiàn)的方式也是再奇怪不過的。府上有一位年青小姐,是位家庭教師,羅切斯特先生與她相愛了——”

“可是火災(zāi)呢?”我提醒。

“我就要談到了,小姐——愛德華先生愛上了。傭人們說,他們從來沒有見到有誰像他那么傾心過。他死死追求她。他們總是注意著他——你知道傭人們會(huì)這樣的,小姐——他傾慕她,勝過了一切。所有的人,除了他,沒有人認(rèn)為她很漂亮。他們說,她是個(gè)小不點(diǎn)兒,幾乎象個(gè)孩子。我從來沒有見過她,不過聽女仆莉婭說起過。莉婭也是夠喜歡她的。羅切斯特先生四十歲左右,這個(gè)家庭女教師還不到二十歲。你瞧,他這種年紀(jì)的男人愛上了姑娘們,往往象是神魂顛倒似的。是呀,他要娶她。”

“這部份故事改日再談吧,”我說,“而現(xiàn)在我特別想要聽聽你說說大火的事兒。是不是懷疑這個(gè)瘋子,羅切斯特太太參與其中?”

“你說對(duì)了,小姐??隙ㄊ撬怂?,沒有誰會(huì)放火的。她有一個(gè)女人照應(yīng),名叫普爾太太——干那一行是很能干的,也很可靠。但有一個(gè)毛病——那些看護(hù)和主婦的通病——她私自留著—瓶杜松子酒,而且常常多喝那么一口。那也是可以原諒的,因?yàn)樗畹锰量嗔?,不過那很危險(xiǎn),酒和水一下肚,普爾太太睡得爛熟,那位像巫婆一般狡猾的瘋女人,便會(huì)從她口袋里掏出鑰匙,開了門溜出房間,在府宅游蕩,心血來潮便什么荒唐的事都干得出來。他們說,有一回差一點(diǎn)把她的丈夫燒死在床上。不過我不知道那回事。但是,那天晚上,她先是放火點(diǎn)燃了隔壁房間的帷幔,隨后下了一層樓,走到原來那位家庭女教師的房間(不知怎么搞的,她似乎知道事情的進(jìn)展,而且對(duì)她懷恨在心)——給她的床放了把火,幸虧沒有人睡在里面。兩個(gè)月前,那個(gè)家庭女教師就出走了。盡管羅切斯特先生拼命找她,仿佛她是稀世珍寶,但她還是杳無音訊。他變得越來越粗暴了——因?yàn)槭浅4直?。他從來就不是一個(gè)性性情溫和的人,而失去她以后,簡直就危險(xiǎn)了。他還喜歡孤身獨(dú)處,把管家費(fèi)爾法克斯太太送到她遠(yuǎn)方的朋友那兒去了。不過他做得很慷慨,付給她一筆終身年金,而她也是受之無愧的——她是一個(gè)很好的女人。他把他監(jiān)護(hù)的阿黛勒小姐,送進(jìn)了學(xué)校。與所有的紳士們斷絕了往來,自己像隱士那樣住在府上,閉門不出。”

“什么!他沒有離開英國?”

“離開英國?哎喲,沒有!他連門檻都不跨出去。除了夜里,他會(huì)像一個(gè)幽靈那樣在庭院和果園里游蕩——仿佛神經(jīng)錯(cuò)亂似的——依我看是這么回事。他敗在那位小個(gè)子女教師手里之前,小姐,你從來沒見過哪位先生像他那么活躍,那么大膽、那么勇敢。他不是像有些人那樣熱衷于飲酒、玩牌和賽馬,他也不怎么漂亮,但他有著男人特有的勇氣和意志力。你瞧,他還是一個(gè)孩子的時(shí)候我就認(rèn)識(shí)他了,至于我,但愿那位愛小姐,還沒到桑菲爾德府就
給沉到海底去了。”

“那么起火時(shí)羅切斯特先生是在家里了?”

“不錯(cuò),他確實(shí)在家。上上下下都燒起來的時(shí)候,他上了閣樓,把仆人們從床上叫醒,親自幫他們下樓來——隨后又返回去,要把發(fā)瘋的妻子弄出房間。那時(shí)他們喊他,說她在屋頂。她站在城垛上、揮動(dòng)著胳膊,大喊大叫,一英里外都聽得見。我親眼見了她,親耳聽到了她的聲音。她個(gè)兒很大,頭發(fā)又長又黑,站著時(shí)我們看到她的頭發(fā)映著火光在飄動(dòng)。我親眼看到,還有好幾個(gè)人也看到了羅切斯特先生穿過天窗爬上了屋頂。我們聽他叫了聲“佩莎!”我們見他朝她走去,隨后,小姐,她大叫一聲,縱身跳了下去,剎那之間,她已躺在路上,粉身碎骨了。”

“死了?”

“死了!呵,完全斷氣了,在石頭上腦漿迸裂,鮮血四濺。”

“天哪!”

“你完全可以這么說,小姐,真嚇人哪!”他打了個(gè)寒顫。

“那么后來呢?”我催促著,

“唉呀,小姐,后來整座房子都夷為平地了,眼下只有幾截子墻還立著。”

“還死了其他人嗎?”

“沒有——要是有倒也許還好些?”

“你這話是什么意思?”

“可憐的愛德華,”他失聲叫道,“我從來沒有想到會(huì)見到這樣的事情!有人說那不過是對(duì)他瞞了第一次婚姻,妻子活著還想再娶的報(bào)應(yīng)。但拿我來講,我是憐憫他的。”

“你說了他還活著?”我叫道。

“是呀,是呀,他還活著。但很多人認(rèn)為他還是死了的好。”

“為什么?怎么會(huì)呢?”我的血又冰冷了。“他在哪兒?”我問。“在英國嗎?”

“呵——呵——他是在英國,他沒有辦法走出英國,我想——現(xiàn)在他是寸步難行了。”那是什么病痛呀?這人似乎決意吞吞吐吐。

“他全瞎了,”他終于說。“是呀,他全瞎了——愛德華先生。”

我擔(dān)心更壞的結(jié)局,擔(dān)心他瘋了。我鼓足勇氣問他造成災(zāi)難的原因。

“全是因?yàn)樗哪懥浚阋部梢哉f,因?yàn)樗纳屏迹〗?。他要等所有的人在他之前逃出來了才肯離開房子。羅切斯特夫人跳下城垛后,他終于走下了那個(gè)大樓梯,就在這時(shí),轟隆一聲,全都塌了下來。他從廢墟底下被拖了出來,雖然還活著,但傷勢嚴(yán)重。一根大梁掉了下來,正好護(hù)住了他一些。不過他的一只眼睛被砸了出來,一只手被壓爛了,因此醫(yī)生卡特不得不將它立刻截了下來。另一只眼睛發(fā)炎了,也失去了視力。如今他又瞎又殘,實(shí)在是束手無策了。”

“他在哪兒?他現(xiàn)在住在什么地方?”

“在芬丁,他的一個(gè)莊園里,離這里三十英里,是個(gè)很荒涼的地方。”

“誰跟他在一起?”

“老約翰和他的妻子。別人他都不要。他們說,他身體全垮了。”

“你有什么車輛嗎?”

“我們有一輛輕便馬車,小姐,很好看的一輛車。”

“馬上把車準(zhǔn)備好。要是你那位驛車送信人肯在天黑前把我送到芬丁,我會(huì)付給你和他雙倍的價(jià)錢。”
 

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