Джэйн Эйр/Jane Eyre (Шарлотта Бронте). Страница 43 из 445

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The

play-hour

in

the

evening

I

thought

the

pleasantest

fraction

of

the

day

at

Lowood

:

the

bit

of

bread

,

the

draught

of

coffee

swallowed

at

five

o'clock

had

revived

vitality

,

if

it

had

not

satisfied

hunger

:

the

long

restraint

of

the

day

was

slackened

;

the

schoolroom

felt

warmer

than

in

the

morning

--

its

fires

being

allowed

to

burn

a

little

more

brightly

,

to

supply

,

in

some

measure

,

the

place

of

candles

,

not

yet

introduced

:

the

ruddy

gloaming

,

the

licensed

uproar

,

the

confusion

of

many

voices

gave

one

a

welcome

sense

of

liberty

.

On

the

evening

of

the

day

on

which

I

had

seen

Miss

Scatcherd

flog

her

pupil

,

Burns

,

I

wandered

as

usual

among

the

forms

and

tables

and

laughing

groups

without

a

companion

,

yet

not

feeling

lonely

:

when

I

passed

the

windows

,

I

now

and

then

lifted

a

blind

,

and

looked

out

;

it

snowed

fast

,

a

drift

was

already

forming

against

the

lower

panes

;

putting

my

ear

close

to

the

window

,

I

could

distinguish

from

the

gleeful

tumult

within

,

the

disconsolate

moan

of

the

wind

outside

.

Probably

,

if

I

had

lately

left

a

good

home

and

kind

parents

,

this

would

have

been

the

hour

when

I

should

most

keenly

have

regretted

the

separation

;

that

wind

would

then

have

saddened

my

heart

;

this

obscure

chaos

would

have

disturbed

my

peace

!

as

it

was

,

I

derived

from

both

a

strange

excitement

,

and

reckless

and

feverish

,

I

wished

the

wind

to

howl

more

wildly

,

the

gloom

to

deepen

to

darkness

,

and

the

confusion

to

rise

to

clamour

.

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Jumping

over

forms

,

and

creeping

under

tables

,

I

made

my

way

to

one

of

the

fire-places

;

there

,

kneeling

by

the

high

wire

fender

,

I

found

Burns

,

absorbed

,

silent

,

abstracted

from

all

round

her

by

the

companionship

of

a

book

,

which

she

read

by

the

dim

glare

of

the

embers

.

"

Is

it

still

'

Rasselas

'

?

"

I

asked

,

coming

behind

her

.

"

Yes

,

"

she

said

,

"

and

I

have

just

finished

it

.

"

And

in

five

minutes

more

she

shut

it

up

.

I

was

glad

of

this

.

"

Now

,

"

thought

I

,

"

I

can

perhaps

get

her

to

talk

.

"

I

sat

down

by

her

on

the

floor

.

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"

What

is

your

name

besides

Burns

?

"

"

Helen

.

"

"

Do

you

come

a

long

way

from

here

?

"

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