Джэйн Эйр/Jane Eyre (Шарлотта Бронте). Страница 441 из 445

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"

Some

days

since

:

nay

,

I

can

number

them

--

four

;

it

was

last

Monday

night

,

a

singular

mood

came

over

me

:

one

in

which

grief

replaced

frenzy

--

sorrow

,

sullenness

.

I

had

long

had

the

impression

that

since

I

could

nowhere

find

you

,

you

must

be

dead

.

Late

that

night

--

perhaps

it

might

be

between

eleven

and

twelve

o'clock

--

ere

I

retired

to

my

dreary

rest

,

I

supplicated

God

,

that

,

if

it

seemed

good

to

Him

,

I

might

soon

be

taken

from

this

life

,

and

admitted

to

that

world

to

come

,

where

there

was

still

hope

of

rejoining

Jane

.

"

I

was

in

my

own

room

,

and

sitting

by

the

window

,

which

was

open

:

it

soothed

me

to

feel

the

balmy

night-air

;

though

I

could

see

no

stars

and

only

by

a

vague

,

luminous

haze

,

knew

the

presence

of

a

moon

.

I

longed

for

thee

,

Janet

!

Oh

,

I

longed

for

thee

both

with

soul

and

flesh

!

I

asked

of

God

,

at

once

in

anguish

and

humility

,

if

I

had

not

been

long

enough

desolate

,

afflicted

,

tormented

;

and

might

not

soon

taste

bliss

and

peace

once

more

.

That

I

merited

all

I

endured

,

I

acknowledged

--

that

I

could

scarcely

endure

more

,

I

pleaded

;

and

the

alpha

and

omega

of

my

heart

's

wishes

broke

involuntarily

from

my

lips

in

the

words

--

'

Jane

!

Jane

!

Jane

!

'

"

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"

Did

you

speak

these

words

aloud

?

"

"

I

did

,

Jane

.

If

any

listener

had

heard

me

,

he

would

have

thought

me

mad

:

I

pronounced

them

with

such

frantic

energy

.

"

"

And

it

was

last

Monday

night

,

somewhere

near

midnight

?

"

"

Yes

;

but

the

time

is

of

no

consequence

:

what

followed

is

the

strange

point

.

You

will

think

me

superstitious

,

--

some

superstition

I

have

in

my

blood

,

and

always

had

:

nevertheless

,

this

is

true

--

true

at

least

it

is

that

I

heard

what

I

now

relate

.

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"

As

I

exclaimed

'

Jane

!

Jane

!

Jane

!

'

a

voice

--

I

can

not

tell

whence

the

voice

came

,

but

I

know

whose

voice

it

was

--

replied

,

'

I

am

coming

:

wait

for

me

;

'

and

a

moment

after

,

went

whispering

on

the

wind

the

words

--

'

Where

are

you

?

'

"

I

'll

tell

you

,

if

I

can

,

the

idea

,

the

picture

these

words

opened

to

my

mind

:

yet

it

is

difficult

to

express

what

I

want

to

express

.

Ferndean

is

buried

,

as

you

see

,

in

a

heavy

wood

,

where

sound

falls

dull

,

and

dies

unreverberating

.

'

Where

are

you

?

'

seemed

spoken

amongst

mountains

;

for

I

heard

a

hill-sent

echo

repeat

the

words

.

Cooler

and

fresher

at

the

moment

the

gale

seemed

to

visit

my

brow

:

I

could

have

deemed

that

in

some

wild

,

lone

scene

,

I

and

Jane

were

meeting

.

In

spirit

,

I

believe

we

must

have

met

.

You

no

doubt

were

,

at

that

hour

,

in

unconscious

sleep

,

Jane

:

perhaps

your

soul

wandered

from

its

cell

to

comfort

mine

;

for

those

were

your

accents

--

as

certain

as

I

live

--

they

were

yours

!

"

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