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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 193/445
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Here
then
I
was
in
the
third
storey
,
fastened
into
one
of
its
mystic
cells
;
night
around
me
;
a
pale
and
bloody
spectacle
under
my
eyes
and
hands
;
a
murderess
hardly
separated
from
me
by
a
single
door
:
yes
--
that
was
appalling
--
the
rest
I
could
bear
;
but
I
shuddered
at
the
thought
of
Grace
Poole
bursting
out
upon
me
.
I
must
keep
to
my
post
,
however
.
I
must
watch
this
ghastly
countenance
--
these
blue
,
still
lips
forbidden
to
unclose
--
these
eyes
now
shut
,
now
opening
,
now
wandering
through
the
room
,
now
fixing
on
me
,
and
ever
glazed
with
the
dulness
of
horror
.
I
must
dip
my
hand
again
and
again
in
the
basin
of
blood
and
water
,
and
wipe
away
the
trickling
gore
.
I
must
see
the
light
of
the
unsnuffed
candle
wane
on
my
employment
;
the
shadows
darken
on
the
wrought
,
antique
tapestry
round
me
,
and
grow
black
under
the
hangings
of
the
vast
old
bed
,
and
quiver
strangely
over
the
doors
of
a
great
cabinet
opposite
--
whose
front
,
divided
into
twelve
panels
,
bore
,
in
grim
design
,
the
heads
of
the
twelve
apostles
,
each
enclosed
in
its
separate
panel
as
in
a
frame
;
while
above
them
at
the
top
rose
an
ebon
crucifix
and
a
dying
Christ
.
According
as
the
shifting
obscurity
and
flickering
gleam
hovered
here
or
glanced
there
,
it
was
now
the
bearded
physician
,
Luke
,
that
bent
his
brow
;
now
St.
John
's
long
hair
that
waved
;
and
anon
the
devilish
face
of
Judas
,
that
grew
out
of
the
panel
,
and
seemed
gathering
life
and
threatening
a
revelation
of
the
arch-traitor
--
of
Satan
himself
--
in
his
subordinate
's
form
.
Amidst
all
this
,
I
had
to
listen
as
well
as
watch
:
to
listen
for
the
movements
of
the
wild
beast
or
the
fiend
in
yonder
side
den
.
But
since
Mr.
Rochester
's
visit
it
seemed
spellbound
:
all
the
night
I
heard
but
three
sounds
at
three
long
intervals
,
--
a
step
creak
,
a
momentary
renewal
of
the
snarling
,
canine
noise
,
and
a
deep
human
groan
.
Then
my
own
thoughts
worried
me
.
What
crime
was
this
that
lived
incarnate
in
this
sequestered
mansion
,
and
could
neither
be
expelled
nor
subdued
by
the
owner
?
--
what
mystery
,
that
broke
out
now
in
fire
and
now
in
blood
,
at
the
deadest
hours
of
night
?
What
creature
was
it
,
that
,
masked
in
an
ordinary
woman
's
face
and
shape
,
uttered
the
voice
,
now
of
a
mocking
demon
,
and
anon
of
a
carrion-seeking
bird
of
prey
?
And
this
man
I
bent
over
--
this
commonplace
,
quiet
stranger
--
how
had
he
become
involved
in
the
web
of
horror
?
and
why
had
the
Fury
flown
at
him
?
What
made
him
seek
this
quarter
of
the
house
at
an
untimely
season
,
when
he
should
have
been
asleep
in
bed
?
I
had
heard
Mr.
Rochester
assign
him
an
apartment
below
--
what
brought
him
here
!
And
why
,
now
,
was
he
so
tame
under
the
violence
or
treachery
done
him
?
Why
did
he
so
quietly
submit
to
the
concealment
Mr.
Rochester
enforced
?
Why
did
Mr.
Rochester
enforce
this
concealment
?
His
guest
had
been
outraged
,
his
own
life
on
a
former
occasion
had
been
hideously
plotted
against
;
and
both
attempts
he
smothered
in
secrecy
and
sank
in
oblivion
!
Lastly
,
I
saw
Mr.
Mason
was
submissive
to
Mr.
Rochester
;
that
the
impetuous
will
of
the
latter
held
complete
sway
over
the
inertness
of
the
former
:
the
few
words
which
had
passed
between
them
assured
me
of
this
.
It
was
evident
that
in
their
former
intercourse
,
the
passive
disposition
of
the
one
had
been
habitually
influenced
by
the
active
energy
of
the
other
:
whence
then
had
arisen
Mr.
Rochester
's
dismay
when
he
heard
of
Mr.
Mason
's
arrival
?
Why
had
the
mere
name
of
this
unresisting
individual
--
whom
his
word
now
sufficed
to
control
like
a
child
--
fallen
on
him
,
a
few
hours
since
,
as
a
thunderbolt
might
fall
on
an
oak
?
Oh
!
I
could
not
forget
his
look
and
his
paleness
when
he
whispered
:
"
Jane
,
I
have
got
a
blow
--
I
have
got
a
blow
,
Jane
.
"
I
could
not
forget
how
the
arm
had
trembled
which
he
rested
on
my
shoulder
:
and
it
was
no
light
matter
which
could
thus
bow
the
resolute
spirit
and
thrill
the
vigorous
frame
of
Fairfax
Rochester
.
"
When
will
he
come
?
When
will
he
come
?
"
I
cried
inwardly
,
as
the
night
lingered
and
lingered
--
as
my
bleeding
patient
drooped
,
moaned
,
sickened
:
and
neither
day
nor
aid
arrived
.
I
had
,
again
and
again
,
held
the
water
to
Mason
's
white
lips
;
again
and
again
offered
him
the
stimulating
salts
:
my
efforts
seemed
ineffectual
:
either
bodily
or
mental
suffering
,
or
loss
of
blood
,
or
all
three
combined
,
were
fast
prostrating
his
strength
.
He
moaned
so
,
and
looked
so
weak
,
wild
,
and
lost
,
I
feared
he
was
dying
;
and
I
might
not
even
speak
to
him
.
