简爱(英文版)-第19章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


very　low。　It　passed　off　in　a　clamorous　peal　that　seemed　to　wake　an　echo　in　every　lonely　chamber；　though　it　originated　but　in　one；　and　I　could　have　pointed　out　the　door　whence　the　accents　issued。
“Mrs。　Fairfax！”　I　called　out：　for　I　now　heard　her　descending　the　great　stairs。　“Did　you　hear　that　loud　laugh？　Who　is　it？”
“Some　of　the　servants；　very　likely；”　she　answered：　“perhaps　Grace　Poole。”
“Did　you　hear　it？”　I　again　inquired。
“Yes；　plainly：　I　often　hear　her：　she　sews　in　one　of　these　rooms。　Sometimes　Leah　is　with　her；　they　are　frequently　noisy　together。”
The　laugh　was　repeated　in　its　low；　syllabic　tone；　and　terminated　in　an　odd　murmur。
“Grace！”　exclaimed　Mrs。　Fairfax。
I　really　did　not　expect　any　Grace　to　answer；　for　the　laugh　was　as　tragic；　as　preternatural　a　laugh　as　any　I　ever　heard；　and；　but　that　it　was　high　noon；　and　that　no　circumstance　of　ghostliness　acpanied　the　curious　cachinnation；　but　that　neither　scene　nor　season　favoured　fear；　I　should　have　been　superstitiously　afraid。　However；　the　event　showed　me　I　was　a　fool　for　entertaining　a　sense　even　of　surprise。
The　door　nearest　me　opened；　and　a　servant　came　out；—a　woman　of　between　thirty　and　forty；　a　set；　square…made　figure；　red…haired；　and　with　a　hard；　plain　face：　any　apparition　less　romantic　or　less　ghostly　could　scarcely　be　conceived。
“Too　much　noise；　Grace；”　said　Mrs。　Fairfax。　“Remember　directions！”　Grace　curtseyed　silently　and　went　in。
“She　is　a　person　we　have　to　sew　and　assist　Leah　in　her　housemaid’s　work；”　continued　the　widow；　“not　altogether　unobjectionable　in　some　points；　but　she　does　well　enough。　By…the…bye；　how　have　you　got　on　with　your　new　pupil　this　morning？”
The　conversation；　thus　turned　on　Adèle；　continued　till　we　reached　the　light　and　cheerful　region　below。　Adèle　came　running　to　meet　us　in　the　hall；　exclaiming—
“Mesdames；　vous　etes　servies！”　adding；　“J’ai　bien　faim；　moi！”
We　found　dinner　ready；　and　waiting　for　us　in　Mrs。　Fairfax’s　room。
Chapter　12
The　promise　of　a　smooth　career；　which　my　first　calm　introduction　to　Thornfield　Hall　seemed　to　pledge；　was　not　belied　on　a　longer　acquaintance　with　the　place　and　its　inmates。　Mrs。　Fairfax　turned　out　to　be　what　she　appeared；　a　placid…tempered；　kind…natured　woman；　of　petent　education　and　average　intelligence。　My　pupil　was　a　lively　child；　who　had　been　spoilt　and　indulged；　and　therefore　was　sometimes　wayward；　but　as　she　was　mitted　entirely　to　my　care；　and　no　injudicious　interference　from　any　quarter　ever　thwarted　my　plans　for　her　improvement；　she　soon　forgot　her　little　freaks；　and　became　obedient　and　teachable。　She　had　no　great　talents；　no　marked　traits　of　character；　no　peculiar　development　of　feeling　or　taste　which　raised　her　one　inch　above　the　ordinary　level　of　childhood；　but　neither　had　she　any　deficiency　or　vice　which　sunk　her　below　it。　She　made　reasonable　progress；　entertained　for　me　a　vivacious；　though　perhaps　not　very　profound；　affection；　and　by　her　simplicity；　gay　prattle；　and　efforts　to　please；　inspired　me；　in　return；　with　a　degree　of　attachment　sufficient　to　make　us　both　content　in　each　other’s　society。
This；　par　parenthèse；　will　be　thought　cool　language　by　persons　who　entertain　solemn　doctrines　about　the　angelic　nature　of　children；　and　the　duty　of　those　charged　with　their　education　to　conceive　for　them　an　idolatrous　devotion：　but　I　am　not　writing　to　flatter　parental　egotism；　to　echo　cant；　or　prop　up　humbug；　I　am　merely　telling　the　truth。　I　felt　a　conscientious　solicitude　for　Adèle’s　welfare　and　progress；　and　a　quiet　liking　for　her　little　self：　just　as　I　cherished　towards　Mrs。　Fairfax　a　thankfulness　for　her　kindness；　and　a　pleasure　in　her　society　proportionate　to　the　tranquil　regard　she　had　for　me；　and　the　moderation　of　her　mind　and　character。
Anybody　may　blame　me　who　likes；　when　I　add　further；　that；　now　and　then；　when　I　took　a　walk　by　myself　in　the　grounds；　when　I　went　down　to　the　gates　and　looked　through　them　along　the　road；　or　when；　while　Adèle　played　with　her　nurse；　and　Mrs。　Fairfax　made　jellies　in　the　storeroom；　I　climbed　the　three　staircases；　raised　the　trap…door　of　the　attic；　and　having　reached　the　leads；　looked　out　afar　over　sequestered　field　and　hill；　and　along　dim　sky…line—that　then　I　longed　for　a　power　of　vision　which　might　overpass　that　limit；　which　might　reach　the　busy　world；　towns；　regions　full　of　life　I　had　heard　of　but　never　seen—that　then　I　desired　more　of　practical　experience　than　I　possessed；　more　of　intercourse　with　my　kind；　of　acquaintance　with　variety　of　character；　than　was　here　within　my　reach。　I　valued　what　was　good　in　Mrs。　Fairfax；　and　what　was　good　in　Adèle；　but　I　believed　in　the　existence　of　other　and　more　vivid　kinds　of　goodness；　and　what　I　believed　in　I　wished　to　behold。
Who　blames　me？　Many；　no　doubt；　and　I　shall　be　called　discontented。　I　could　not　help　it：　the　restlessness　was　in　my　nature；　it　agitated　me　to　pain　sometimes。　Then　my　sole　relief　was　to　walk　along　the　corridor　of　the　third　storey；　backwards　and　forwards；　safe　in　the　silence　and　solitude　of　the　spot；　and　allow　my　mind’s　eye　to　dwell　on　whatever　bright　visions　rose　before　it—and；　certainly；　they　were　many　and　glowing；　to　let　my　heart　be　heaved　by　the　exultant　movement；　which；　while　it　swelled　it　in　trouble；　expanded　it　with　life；　and；　best　of　all；　to　open　my　inward　ear　to　a　tale　that　was　never　ended—a　tale　my　imagination　created；　and　narrated　continuously；　quickened　with　all　of　incident；　life；　fire；　feeling；　that　I　desired　and　had　not　in　my　actual　existence。
It　is　in　vain　to　say　human　beings　ought　to　be　satisfied　ust　have　action；　and　they　will　make　it　if　they　cannot　find　it。　Millions　are　condemned　to　a　stiller　doom　than　mine；　and　millions　are　in　silent　revolt　against　their　lot。　Nobody　knows　how　many　rebellions　besides　political　rebellions　ferment　in　the　masses　of　life　which　people　earth。　Women　are　supposed　to　be　very　calm　generally：　but　women　feel　just　as　men　feel；　they　need　exercise　for　their　faculties；　and　a　field　for　their　efforts；　as　much　as　their　brothers　do；　they　suffer　from　too　rigid　a　restraint；　too　absolute　a　stagnation；　precisely　as　men　would　suffer；　and　it　is　narrow…minded　in　their　more　privileged　fellow…creatures　to　say　that　they　ought　to　confine　themselves　to　making　puddings　and　knitting　stockings；　to　playing　on　the　piano　and　embroidering　bags。　It　is　thoughtless　to　condemn　them；　or　laugh　at　them；　if　they　seek　to　do　more　or　learn　more　than　custom　has　pronounced　necessary　for　their　sex。
When　thus　alone；　I　not　unfrequently　heard　Grace　Poole’s　laugh：　the　same　peal；　the　same　low；　slow　ha！　ha！　which；　when　first　heard；　had　thrilled　me：　I　heard；　too；　her　eccentric　murmurs；　stranger　than　her　laugh。　There　were　days　when　she　was　quite　silent；　but　there　were　others　when　I　could　not　account　for　the　sounds　she　made。　Sometimes　I　saw　her：　she　would　e　out　of　her　room　with　a　basin；　or　a　plate；　or　a　tray　in　her　hand；　go　down　to　the　kitchen　and　shortly　return；　generally　（oh；　romantic　reader；　forgive　me　for　telling　the　plain　truth！）　bearing　a　pot　of　porter。　Her　appearance　always　acted　as　a　damper　to　the　curiosity　raised　by　her　oral　oddities：　hard…featured　and　staid；　she　had　no　point　to　which　interest　could　attach。　I　made　some　attempts　to　draw　her　into　conversation；　but　she　seemed　a　person　of　few　words：　a　monosyllabic　reply　usually　cut　short　every　effort　of　that　sort。
The　other　members　of　the　household；　viz。；　John　and　his　wife；　Leah　the　housemaid；　and　Sophie　the　French　nurse；　were　decent　people；　but　in　no　respect　remarkable；　with　Sophie　I　used　to　talk　French；　and　sometimes　I　asked　her　questions　about　her　native　country；　but　she　was　not　of　a　descriptive　or　narrative　turn；　and　generally　gave　such　vapid　and　confused　answers　as　were　calculated　rather　to　check　than　encourage　inquiry。
October；　November；　December　passed　away。　One　afternoon　in　January；　Mrs。　Fairfax　had　begged　a　holiday　for　Adèle；　because　she　had　a　cold；　and；　as　Adèle　seconded　the　request　with　an　ardour　that　reminded　me　how　precious　occasional　holidays　had　been　to　me　in　my　own　childhood；　I　accorded　it；　deeming　that　I　did　well　in　showing　pliability　on　the　point。　It　was　a　fine；　calm　day；　though　very　cold；　I　was　tired　of　sitting　still　in　the　library　through　a　whole　long　morning：　Mrs。　Fairfax　had　just　written　a　letter　which　was　waiting　to　be　posted；　so　I　put　on　my　bon　and　cloak　and　volunteered　to　carry　it　to　Hay；　the　distance；　two　miles；　would　be　a　pleasant　winter　afternoon　walk。　Having　seen　Adèle　fortably　seated　in　her　little　chair　by　Mrs。　Fairfax’s　parlour　fireside；　and　given　her　her　best　wax　doll　（which　I　usually　kept　enveloped　in　silver　paper　in　a　drawer）　to　play　with；　and　a　story…book　for　change　of　amusement；　and　having　replied　to　her　“Revenez　bient？t；　ma　bonne　amie；　ma　chère　Mdlle。　Jeante；”　with　a　kiss　I　set　out。
The　ground　was　hard；　the　air　was　still；　my　road　was　lonely；　I　walked　fast　till　I　got　warm；　and　then　I　walked　slowly　to　enjoy　and　analyse　the　species　of　pleasure　brooding　for　me　in　the　hour　and　situation。　It　was　three　o’clock；　the　church　bell　tolled　as　I　passed　under　the　belfry：　the　charm　of　the　hour　lay　in　its　approaching　dimness；　in　the　low…gliding　and　pale…beaming　sun。　I　was　a　mile　from　Thornfield；　in　a　lane　noted　for　wild　roses　in　summer；　for　nuts　and　blackberries　in　autumn；　and　even　now　possessing　a　few　coral　treasures　in　hips　and　haws；　but　whose　best　winter　delight　lay　in　its　utter　solitude　and　leafless　repose。　If　a　breath　of　air　stirred；　it　made　no　sound　here；　for　there　was　not　a　holly；　not　an　evergreen　to　rustle；　and　the　stripped　hawthorn　and　hazel　bushes　were　as　still　as　the　white；　worn　stones　which　causewayed　the　middle　of　the　path。　Far　and　wide；　on　each　side；　there　were　only　fields；　where　no　cattle　now　browsed；　and　the　little　brown　birds；　which　stirred　occasionally　in　the　hedge；　looked　like　single　russet　leaves　that　had　forgotten　to　drop。
This　lane　inclined　up…hill　all　the　way　to　Hay；　having　reached　the　middle；　I　sat　down　on　a　stile　which　led　thence　into　a　field。　Gathering　my　mantle　about　me；　and　sheltering　my　hands　in　my　muff；　I　did　not　feel　the　cold；　though　it　froze　keenly；　as　was　attested　by　a　sheet　of　ice　covering　the　causeway；　where　a　little　brooklet；　now　congealed；　had　overflowed　after　a　rapid　thaw　some　days　since。　From　my　seat　I　could　look　down　on　Thornfield：　the　grey　and　battlemented　hall　was　the　principal　object　in　the　vale　below　me；　its　woods　and　dark　rookery　rose　against　the　west。　I　lingered　till　the　sun　went　down　amongst　the　trees；　and　sank　crimson　and　clear　behind　them。　I　then　turned　eastward。
On　the　hill…top　above　me　sat　the　rising　moon；　pale　yet　as　a　cloud；　but　brightening　momentarily；　she　looked　over　Hay；　which；　half　lost　in　trees；　sent　up　a　blue　smoke　from　its　few　chimneys：　it　was　yet　a　mile　distant；　but　in　the　absolute　hush　I　could　hear　plainly　its　thin　murmurs　of　life。　My　ear；　too；　felt　the　flow　of　currents；　in　what　dales　and　depths　I　could　not　tell：　but　there　were　many　hills　beyond　Hay；　and　doubtless　many　becks　threading　their　passes。　That　evening　calm　betrayed　alike　the　tinkle　of　the　nearest　streams；　the　sough　of　the　most　remote。
A　rude　noise　broke　on　these　fine　ripplings　and　whisperings；　at　once　so　far　away　and　so　clear：　a　positive　tramp；　tramp；　a　metallic　clatter；　which　effaced　the　soft　wave…wanderings；　as；　in　a　picture；　the　solid　mass　of　a　crag；　or　the　rough　boles　of　a　great　oak；　drawn　in　dark　and　strong　on　the　foreground；　efface　the　aerial　distance　of　azure　hill；　sunny　horizon；　and　blended　clouds　where　tint　melts　into　tint。
The　din　was　on　the　causeway：　a　horse　was　ing；　the　windings　of　the　lane　yet　hid　it；　but　it　approached。　I　was　just　leaving　the　stile；　yet；　as　the　path　was　narrow；　I　sat　still　to　let　it　go　by。　In　those　days　I　was　young；　and　all　sorts　of　fancies　bright　and　dark　tenanted　my　mind：　the　memories　of　nursery　stories　were　there　amongst　other　rubbish；　and　when　they　recurred；　maturing　youth　added　to　them　a　vigour　and　vividness　beyond　what　childhood　could　give。　As　this　horse　approached；　and　as　I　watched　for　it　to　appear　through　the　dusk；　I　remembered　certain　of　Bessie’s　tales；　wherein　figured　a　North…of…England　spirit　called　a　“Gytrash；”　which；　in　the　form　of　horse；　mule；　or　large　dog；　haunted　solitary　ways；　and　sometimes　came　upon　belated　travellers；　as　this　horse　was　now　ing　upon　me。
It　was　very　near；　but　not　yet　in　sight；　when；　in　addition　to　the　tramp；　tramp；　I　heard　a　rush　under　the　hedge；　and　close　down　by　the　hazel　stems　glided　a　great　dog；　whose　black　and　white　colour　made　him　a　distinct　object　against　the　trees。　It　was　exactly　one　form　of　Bessie’s　Gytrash—a　lion…like　creature　with　long　hair　and　a　huge　head：　it　passed　me；　however；　quietly　enough；　not　staying　to　look　up；　with　strange　pretercanine　eyes；　in　my　face；　as　I　half　expected　it　would。　The　horse　followed；—a　tall　steed；　and　on　its　back　a　rider。　The　man；　the　human　being；　broke　the　spell　at　once。　Nothing　ever　rode　the　Gytrash：　it　was　always　alone；　and　goblins；　to　my　notions；　though　they　might　tenant　the　dumb　carcasses　of　beasts；　could　scarce　covet　shelter　in　the　monplace　human　form。　No　Gytrash　was　this；—only　a　traveller　taking　the　short　cut　to　Millcote。　He　passed；　and　I　went　on；　a　few　steps；　and　I　turned：　a　sliding　sound　and　an　exclamation　of　“What　the　deuce　is　to　do　now？”　and　a　clattering　tumble；　arrested　my　attention。　Man　and　horse　were　down；　they　had　slipped　on　the　sheet　of　ice　which　glazed　the　ca