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- Шарлотта Бронте
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- Джэйн Эйр
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- Стр. 414/445
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"
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
.
"
The
manor-house
of
Ferndean
was
a
building
of
considerable
antiquity
,
moderate
size
,
and
no
architectural
pretensions
,
deep
buried
in
a
wood
.
I
had
heard
of
it
before
.
Mr.
Rochester
often
spoke
of
it
,
and
sometimes
went
there
.
His
father
had
purchased
the
estate
for
the
sake
of
the
game
covers
.
He
would
have
let
the
house
,
but
could
find
no
tenant
,
in
consequence
of
its
ineligible
and
insalubrious
site
.
Ferndean
then
remained
uninhabited
and
unfurnished
,
with
the
exception
of
some
two
or
three
rooms
fitted
up
for
the
accommodation
of
the
squire
when
he
went
there
in
the
season
to
shoot
.
To
this
house
I
came
just
ere
dark
on
an
evening
marked
by
the
characteristics
of
sad
sky
,
cold
gale
,
and
continued
small
penetrating
rain
.
The
last
mile
I
performed
on
foot
,
having
dismissed
the
chaise
and
driver
with
the
double
remuneration
I
had
promised
.
Even
when
within
a
very
short
distance
of
the
manor-house
,
you
could
see
nothing
of
it
,
so
thick
and
dark
grew
the
timber
of
the
gloomy
wood
about
it
.
Iron
gates
between
granite
pillars
showed
me
where
to
enter
,
and
passing
through
them
,
I
found
myself
at
once
in
the
twilight
of
close-ranked
trees
.
There
was
a
grass-grown
track
descending
the
forest
aisle
between
hoar
and
knotty
shafts
and
under
branched
arches
.
I
followed
it
,
expecting
soon
to
reach
the
dwelling
;
but
it
stretched
on
and
on
,
it
would
far
and
farther
:
no
sign
of
habitation
or
grounds
was
visible
.
I
thought
I
had
taken
a
wrong
direction
and
lost
my
way
.
The
darkness
of
natural
as
well
as
of
sylvan
dusk
gathered
over
me
.
I
looked
round
in
search
of
another
road
.
There
was
none
:
all
was
interwoven
stem
,
columnar
trunk
,
dense
summer
foliage
--
no
opening
anywhere
.
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
.
