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第88部分（第1页）

I　proceeded：　at　last　my　way　opened；　the　trees　thinned　a　little；　presently　I　beheld　a　railing；　then　the　house—scarce；　by　this　dim　light；　distinguishable　from　the　trees；　so　dank　and　green　were　its　decaying　walls。　Entering　a　portal；　fastened　only　by　a　latch；　I　stood　amidst　a　space　of　enclosed　ground；　from　which　the　wood　swept　away　in　a　semicircle。　There　were　no　flowers；　no　garden…beds；　only　a　broad　gravel…walk　girdling　a　grass…plat；　and　this　set　in　the　heavy　frame　of　the　forest。　The　house　presented　two　pointed　gables　in　its　front；　the　windows　were　latticed　and　narrow：　the　front　door　was　narrow　too；　one　step　led　up　to　it。　The　whole　looked；　as　the　host　of　the　Rochester　Arms　had　said；　“quite　a　desolate　spot。”　It　was　as　still　as　a　church　on　a　week…day：　the　pattering　rain　on　the　forest　leaves　was　the　only　sound　audible　in　its　vicinage。

“Can　there　be　life　here？”　I　asked。

Yes；　life　of　some　kind　there　was；　for　I　heard　a　movement—that　narrow　front…door　was　unclosing；　and　some　shape　was　about　to　issue　from　the　grange。

It　opened　slowly：　a　figure　came　out　into　the　twilight　and　stood　on　the　step；　a　man　without　a　hat：　he　stretched　forth　his　hand　as　if　to　feel　whether　it　rained。　Dusk　as　it　was；　I　had　recognised　him—it　was　my　master；　Edward　Fairfax　Rochester；　and　no　other。

I　stayed　my　step；　almost　my　breath；　and　stood　to　watch　him—to　examine　him；　myself　unseen；　and　alas！　to　him　invisible。　It　was　a　sudden　meeting；　and　one　in　which　rapture　was　kept　well　in　check　by　pain。　I　had　no　difficulty　in　restraining　my　voice　from　exclamation；　my　step　from　hasty　advance。

His　form　was　of　the　same　strong　and　stalwart　contour　as　ever：　his　port　was　still　erect；　his　heir　was　still　raven　black；　nor　were　his　features　altered　or　sunk：　not　in　one　year’s　space；　by　any　sorrow；　could　his　athletic　strength　be　quelled　or　his　vigorous　prime　blighted。　But　in　his　countenance　I　saw　a　change：　that　looked　desperate　and　brooding—that　reminded　me　of　some　wronged　and　fettered　wild　beast　or　bird；　dangerous　to　approach　in　his　sullen　woe。　The　caged　eagle；　whose　gold…ringed　eyes　cruelty　has　extinguished；　might　look　as　looked　that　sightless　Samson。

And；　reader；　do　you　think　I　feared　him　in　his　blind　ferocity？—if　you　do；　you　little　know　me。　A　soft　hope　blest　with　my　sorrow　that　soon　I　should　dare　to　drop　a　kiss　on　that　brow　of　rock；　and　on　those　lips　so　sternly　sealed　beneath　it：　but　not　yet。　I　would　not　accost　him　yet。

He　descended　the　one　step；　and　advanced　slowly　and　gropingly　towards　the　grass…plat。　Where　was　his　daring　stride　now？　Then　he　paused；　as　if　he　knew　not　which　way　to　turn。　He　lifted　his　hand　and　opened　his　eyelids；　gazed　blank；　and　with　a　straining　effort；　on　the　sky；　and　toward　the　amphitheatre　of　trees：　one　saw　that　all　to　him　was　void　darkness。　He　stretched　his　right　hand　（the　left　arm；　the　mutilated　one；　he　kept　hidden　in　his　bosom）；　he　seemed　to　wish　by　touch　to　gain　an　idea　of　what　lay　around　him：　he　met　but　vacancy　still；　for　the　trees　were　some　yards　off　where　he　stood。　He　relinquished　the　endeavour；　folded　his　arms；　and　stood　quiet　and　mute　in　the　rain；　now　falling　fast　on　his　uncovered　head。　At　this　moment　John　approached　him　from　some　quarter。

“Will　you　take　my　arm；　sir？”　he　said；　“there　is　a　heavy　shower　ing　on：　had　you　not　better　go　in？”

“Let　me　alone；”　was　the　answer。

John　withdrew　without　having　observed　me。　Mr。　Rochester　now　tried　to　walk　about：　vainly；—all　was　too　uncertain。　He　groped　his　way　back　to　the　house；　and；　re…entering　it；　closed　the　door。

I　now　drew　near　and　knocked：　John’s　wife　opened　for　me。　“Mary；”　I　said；　“how　are　you？”

She　started　as　if　she　had　seen　a　ghost：　I　calmed　her。　To　her　hurried　“Is　it　really　you；　miss；　e　at　this　late　hour　to　this　lonely　place？”　I　answered　by　taking　her　hand；　and　then　I　followed　her　into　the　kitchen；　where　John　now　sat　by　a　good　fire。　I　explained　to　them；　in　few　words；　that　I　had　heard　all　which　had　happened　since　I　left　Thornfield；　and　that　I　was　e　to　see　Mr。　Rochester。　I　asked　John　to　go　down　to　the　turn…pike…house；　where　I　had　dismissed　the　chaise；　and　bring　my　trunk；　which　I　had　left　there：　and　then；　while　I　removed　my　bon　and　shaary　as　to　whether　I　could　be　acmodated　at　the　Manor　House　for　the　night；　and　finding　that　arrangements　to　that　effect；　though　difficult；　would　not　be　impossible；　I　informed　her　I　should　stay。　Just　at　this　moment　the　parlour…bell　rang。

“When　you　go　in；”　said　I；　“tell　your　master　that　a　person　wishes　to　speak　to　him；　but　do　not　give　my　name。”

“I　don’t　think　he　will　see　you；”　she　answered；　“he　refuses　everybody。”

When　she　returned；　I　inquired　what　he　had　said。　“You　are　to　send　in　your　name　and　your　business；”　she　replied。　She　then　proceeded　to　fill　a　glass　with　water；　and　place　it　on　a　tray；　together　with　candles。

“Is　that　what　he　rang　for？”　I　asked。

“Yes：　he　always　has　candles　brought　in　at　dark；　though　he　is　blind。”

“Give　the　tray　to　me；　I　will　carry　it　in。”

I　took　it　from　her　hand：　she　pointed　me　out　the　parlour　door。　The　tray　shook　as　I　held　it；　the　water　spilt　from　the　glass；　my　heart　struck　my　ribs　loud　and　fast。　Mary　opened　the　door　for　me；　and　shut　it　behind　me。

This　parlour　looked　gloomy：　a　neglected　handful　of　fire　burnt　low　in　the　grate；　and；　leaning　over　it；　with　his　head　supported　against　the　high；　old…fashioned　mantelpiece；　appeared　the　blind　tenant　of　the　room。　His　old　dog；　Pilot；　lay　on　one　side；　removed　out　of　the　way；　and　coiled　up　as　if　afraid　of　being　inadvertently　trodden　upon。　Pilot　pricked　up　his　ears　when　I　came　in：　then　he　jumped　up　with　a　yelp　and　a　whine；　and　bounded　towards　me：　he　almost　knocked　the　tray　from　my　hands。　I　set　it　on　the　table；　then　patted　him；　and　said　softly；　“Lie　down！”　Mr。　Rochester　turned　mechanically　to　see　what　the　motion　was：　but　as　he　saw　nothing；　he　returned　and　sighed。

“Give　me　the　water；　Mary；”　he　said。

I　approached　him　with　the　now　only　half…filled　glass；　Pilot　followed　me；　still　excited。

“What　is　the　matter？”　he　inquired。

“Down；　Pilot！”　I　again　said。　He　checked　the　water　on　its　way　to　his　lips；　and　seemed　to　listen：　he　drank；　and　put　the　glass　down。　“This　is　you；　Mary；　is　it　not？”

“Mary　is　in　the　kitchen；”　I　answered。

He　put　out　his　hand　with　a　quick　gesture；　but　not　seeing　where　I　stood；　he　did　not　touch　me。　“Who　is　this？　Who　is　this？”　he　demanded；　trying；　as　it　seemed；　to　SEE　with　those　sightless　eyes—　unavailing　and　distressing　attempt！　“Answer　me—speak　again！”　he　ordered；　imperiously　and　aloud。

“Will　you　have　a　little　more　water；　sir？　I　spilt　half　of　what　was　in　the　glass；”　I　said。

“Who　is　it？　What　is　it？　Who　speaks？”

“Pilot　knows　me；　and　John　and　Mary　know　I　am　here。　I　came　only　this　evening；”　I　answered。

“Great　God！—what　delusion　has　e　over　me？　What　sweet　madness　has　seized　me？”

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