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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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"
Produce
him
--
or
go
to
hell
.
"
"
I
will
produce
him
first
--
he
is
on
the
spot
.
Mr.
Mason
,
have
the
goodness
to
step
forward
.
"
Mr.
Rochester
,
on
hearing
the
name
,
set
his
teeth
;
he
experienced
,
too
,
a
sort
of
strong
convulsive
quiver
;
near
to
him
as
I
was
,
I
felt
the
spasmodic
movement
of
fury
or
despair
run
through
his
frame
.
The
second
stranger
,
who
had
hitherto
lingered
in
the
background
,
now
drew
near
;
a
pale
face
looked
over
the
solicitor
's
shoulder
--
yes
,
it
was
Mason
himself
.
Mr.
Rochester
turned
and
glared
at
him
.
His
eye
,
as
I
have
often
said
,
was
a
black
eye
:
it
had
now
a
tawny
,
nay
,
a
bloody
light
in
its
gloom
;
and
his
face
flushed
--
olive
cheek
and
hueless
forehead
received
a
glow
as
from
spreading
,
ascending
heart-fire
:
and
he
stirred
,
lifted
his
strong
arm
--
he
could
have
struck
Mason
,
dashed
him
on
the
church-floor
,
shocked
by
ruthless
blow
the
breath
from
his
body
--
but
Mason
shrank
away
,
and
cried
faintly
,
"
Good
God
!
"
Contempt
fell
cool
on
Mr.
Rochester
--
his
passion
died
as
if
a
blight
had
shrivelled
it
up
:
he
only
asked
--
"
What
have
you
to
say
?
"
An
inaudible
reply
escaped
Mason
's
white
lips
.
"
The
devil
is
in
it
if
you
can
not
answer
distinctly
.
I
again
demand
,
what
have
you
to
say
?
"
"
Sir
--
sir
,
"
interrupted
the
clergyman
,
"
do
not
forget
you
are
in
a
sacred
place
.
"
Then
addressing
Mason
,
he
inquired
gently
,
"
Are
you
aware
,
sir
,
whether
or
not
this
gentleman
's
wife
is
still
living
?
"
"
Courage
,
"
urged
the
lawyer
,
--
"
speak
out
.
"
"
She
is
now
living
at
Thornfield
Hall
,
"
said
Mason
,
in
more
articulate
tones
:
"
I
saw
her
there
last
April
.
I
am
her
brother
.
"
"
At
Thornfield
Hall
!
"
ejaculated
the
clergyman
.
"
Impossible
!
I
am
an
old
resident
in
this
neighbourhood
,
sir
,
and
I
never
heard
of
a
Mrs.
Rochester
at
Thornfield
Hall
.
"
