简爱(英文版)-第108部分

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“Mary　is　in　the　kitchen；”　I　answered。
He　put　out　his　hand　with　a　quick　gesture；　but　not　seeing　where　I　stood；　he　did　not　touch　me。　“Who　is　this？　Who　is　this？”　he　demanded；　trying；　as　it　seemed；　to　SEE　with　those　sightless　eyes—　unavailing　and　distressing　attempt！　“Answer　me—speak　again！”　he　ordered；　imperiously　and　aloud。
“Will　you　have　a　little　more　water；　sir？　I　spilt　half　of　what　was　in　the　glass；”　I　said。
“Who　is　it？　What　is　it？　Who　speaks？”
“Pilot　knows　me；　and　John　and　Mary　know　I　am　here。　I　came　only　this　evening；”　I　answered。
“Great　God！—what　delusion　has　e　over　me？　What　sweet　madness　has　seized　me？”
“No　delusion—no　madness：　your　mind；　sir；　is　too　strong　for　delusion；　your　health　too　sound　for　frenzy。”
“And　where　is　the　speaker？　Is　it　only　a　voice？　Oh！　I　cannot　see；　but　I　must　feel；　or　my　heart　will　stop　and　my　brain　burst。　Whatever—whoever　you　are—be　perceptible　to　the　touch　or　I　cannot　live！”
He　groped；　I　arrested　his　wandering　hand；　and　prisoned　it　in　both　mine。
“Her　very　fingers！”　he　cried；　“her　small；　slight　fingers！　If　so　there　must　be　more　of　her。”
The　muscular　hand　broke　from　my　custody；　my　arm　was　seized；　my　shoulder—neck—waist—I　was　entwined　and　gathered　to　him。
“Is　it　Jane？　What　is　it？　This　is　her　shape—this　is　her　size—”
“And　this　her　voice；”　I　added。　“She　is　all　here：　her　heart；　too。　God　bless　you；　sir！　I　am　glad　to　be　so　near　you　again。”
“Jane　Eyre！—Jane　Eyre；”　was　all　he　said。
“My　dear　master；”　I　answered；　“I　am　Jane　Eyre：　I　have　found　you　out—I　am　e　back　to　you。”
“In　truth？—in　the　flesh？　My　living　Jane？”
“You　touch　me；　sir；—you　hold　me；　and　fast　enough：　I　am　not　cold　like　a　corpse；　nor　vacant　like　air；　am　I？”
“My　living　darling！　These　are　certainly　her　limbs；　and　these　her　features；　but　I　cannot　be　so　blest；　after　all　my　misery。　It　is　a　dream；　such　dreams　as　I　have　had　at　night　when　I　have　clasped　her　once　more　to　my　heart；　as　I　do　now；　and　kissed　her；　as　thus—and　felt　that　she　loved　me；　and　trusted　that　she　would　not　leave　me。”
“Which　I　never　will；　sir；　from　this　day。”
“Never　will；　says　the　vision？　But　I　always　woke　and　found　it　an　empty　mockery；　and　I　was　desolate　and　abandoned—my　life　dark；　lonely；　hopeless—my　soul　athirst　and　forbidden　to　drink—my　heart　famished　and　never　to　be　fed。　Gentle；　soft　dream；　nestling　in　my　arms　now；　you　will　fly；　too；　as　your　sisters　have　all　fled　before　you：　but　kiss　me　before　you　go—embrace　me；　Jane。”
“There；　sir—and　there！”’
I　pressed　my　lips　to　his　once　brilliant　and　now　rayless　eyes—I　swept　his　hair　from　his　brow；　and　kissed　that　too。　He　suddenly　seemed　to　arouse　himself：　the　conviction　of　the　reality　of　all　this　seized　him。
“It　is　you—is　it；　Jane？　You　are　e　back　to　me　then？”
“I　am。”
“And　you　do　not　lie　dead　in　some　ditch　under　some　stream？　And　you　are　not　a　pining　outcast　amongst　strangers？”
“No；　sir！　I　am　an　independent　woman　now。”
“Independent！　What　do　you　mean；　Jane？”
“My　uncle　in　Madeira　is　dead；　and　he　left　me　five　thousand　pounds。”
“Ah！　this　is　practical—this　is　real！”　he　cried：　“I　should　never　dream　that。　Besides；　there　is　that　peculiar　voice　of　hers；　so　animating　and　piquant；　as　well　as　soft：　it　cheers　my　withered　heart；　it　puts　life　into　it。—What；　Ja！　Are　you　an　independent　woman？　A　rich　woman？”
“If　you　won’t　let　me　live　with　you；　I　can　build　a　house　of　my　own　close　up　to　your　door；　and　you　may　e　and　sit　in　my　parlour　when　you　want　pany　of　an　evening。”
“But　as　you　are　rich；　Jane；　you　have　now；　no　doubt；　friends　who　will　look　after　you；　and　not　suffer　you　to　devote　yourself　to　a　blind　lameter　like　me？”
“I　told　you　I　am　independent；　sir；　as　well　as　rich：　I　am　my　own　mistress。”
“And　you　will　stay　with　me？”
“Certainly—unless　you　object。　I　will　be　your　neighbour；　your　nurse；　your　housekeeper。　I　find　you　lonely：　I　will　be　your　panion—to　read　to　you；　to　walk　with　you；　to　sit　with　you；　to　wait　on　you；　to　be　eyes　and　hands　to　you。　Cease　to　look　so　melancholy；　my　dear　master；　you　shall　not　be　left　desolate；　so　long　as　I　live。”
He　replied　not：　he　seemed　serious—abstracted；　he　sighed；　he　half…　opened　his　lips　as　if　to　speak：　he　closed　them　again。　I　felt　a　little　embarrassed。　Perhaps　I　had　too　rashly　over…leaped　conventionalities；　and　he；　like　St。　John；　saw　impropriety　in　my　inconsiderateness。　I　had　indeed　made　my　proposal　from　the　idea　that　he　wished　and　would　ask　me　to　be　his　wife：　an　expectation；　not　the　less　certain　because　unexpressed；　had　buoyed　me　up；　that　he　would　claim　me　at　once　as　his　own。　But　no　hint　to　that　effect　escaping　him　and　his　countenance　being　more　overcast；　I　suddenly　remembered　that　I　might　have　been　all　wrong；　and　was　perhaps　playing　the　fool　unwittingly；　and　I　began　gently　to　withdraw　myself　from　his　arms—but　he　eagerly　snatched　me　closer。
“No—no—Jane；　you　must　not　go。　No—I　have　touched　you；　heard　you；　felt　the　fort　of　your　presence—the　sweetness　of　your　consolation：　I　cannot　give　up　these　joys。　I　have　little　left　in　myself—I　must　have　you。　The　world　may　laugh—may　call　me　absurd；　selfish—but　it　does　not　signify。　My　very　soul　demands　you：　it　will　be　satisfied；　or　it　will　take　deadly　vengeance　on　its　frame。”
“Well；　sir；　I　will　stay　with　you：　I　have　said　so。”
“Yes—but　you　understand　one　thing　by　staying　with　me；　and　I　understand　another。　You；　perhaps；　could　make　up　your　mind　to　be　about　my　hand　and　chair—to　wait　on　me　as　a　kind　little　nurse　（for　you　have　an　affectionate　heart　and　a　generous　spirit；　which　prompt　you　to　make　sacrifices　for　those　you　pity）；　and　that　ought　to　suffice　for　me　no　doubt。　I　suppose　I　should　now　entertain　none　but　fatherly　feelings　for　you：　do　you　think　so？　e—tell　me。”
“I　will　think　what　you　like；　sir：　I　am　content　to　be　only　your　nurse；　if　you　think　it　better。”
“But　you　cannot　always　be　my　nurse；　Ja：　you　are　young—you　must　marry　one　day。”
“I　don’t　care　about　being　married。”
“You　should　care；　Ja：　if　I　were　what　I　once　was；　I　would　try　to　make　you　care—but—a　sightless　block！”
He　relapsed　again　into　gloom。　I；　on　the　contrary；　became　more　cheerful；　and　took　fresh　courage：　these　last　words　gave　me　an　insight　as　to　where　the　difficulty　lay；　and　as　it　was　no　difficulty　y　previous　embarrassment。　I　resumed　a　livelier　vein　of　conversation。
“It　is　time　some　one　undertook　to　rehumanise　you；”　said　I；　parting　his　thick　and　long　uncut　locks；　“for　I　see　you　are　being　metamorphosed　into　a　lion；　or　something　of　that　sort。　You　have　a　‘faux　air’　of　Nebuchadnezzar　in　the　fields　about　you；　that　is　certain：　your　hair　reminds　me　of　eagles’　feathers；　whether　your　nails　are　grown　like　birds’　claws　or　not；　I　have　not　yet　noticed。”
“On　this　arm；　I　have　neither　hand　nor　nails；”　he　said；　drawing　the　mutilated　limb　from　his　breast；　and　showing　it　to　me。　“It　is　a　mere　stump—a　ghastly　sight！　Don’t　you　think　so；　Jane？”
“It　is　a　pity　to　see　it；　and　a　pity　to　see　your　eyes—and　the　scar　of　fire　on　your　forehead：　and　the　worst　of　it　is；　one　is　in　danger　of　loving　you　too　well　for　all　this；　and　making　too　much　of　you。”
“I　thought　you　would　be　revolted；　Jane；　when　you　saw　my　arm；　and　my　cicatrised　visage。”
“Did　you？　Don’t　tell　me　so—lest　I　should　say　something　disparaging　to　your　judgment。　Now；　let　me　leave　you　an　instant；　to　make　a　better　fire；　and　have　the　hearth　swept　up。　Can　you　tell　when　there　is　a　good　fire？”
“Yes；　with　the　right　eye　I　see　a　glow—a　ruddy　haze。”
“And　you　see　the　candles？”
“Very　dimly—each　is　a　luminous　cloud。”
“Can　you　see　me？”
“No；　my　fairy：　but　I　am　only　too　thankful　to　hear　and　feel　you。”
“When　do　you　take　supper？”
“I　never　take　supper。”
“But　you　shall　have　some　to…night。　I　am　hungry：　so　are　you；　I　daresay；　only　you　forget。”
Summoning　Mary；　I　soon　had　the　room　in　more　cheerful　order：　I　prepared　him；　likewise；　a　fortable　repast。　My　spirits　were　excited；　and　with　pleasure　and　ease　I　talked　to　him　during　supper；　and　for　a　long　time　after。　There　was　no　harassing　restraint；　no　repressing　of　glee　and　vivacity　with　him；　for　with　him　I　was　at　perfect　ease；　because　I　knew　I　suited　him；　all　I　said　or　did　seemed　either　to　console　or　revive　him。　Delightful　consciousness！　It　brought　to　life　and　light　my　whole　nature：　in　his　presence　I　thoroughly　lived；　and　he　lived　in　mine。　Blind　as　he　was；　smiles　played　over　his　face；　joy　dawned　on　his　forehead：　his　lineaments　softened　and　warmed。
After　supper；　he　began　to　ask　me　many　questions；　of　where　I　had　been；　what　I　had　been　doing；　how　I　had　found　him　out；　but　I　gave　him　only　very　partial　replies：　it　was　too　late　to　enter　into　particulars　that　night。　Besides；　I　wished　to　touch　no　deep…　thrilling　chord—to　open　no　fresh　well　of　emotion　in　his　heart：　my　sole　present　aim　was　to　cheer　him。　Cheered；　as　I　have　said；　he　was：　and　yet　but　by　fits。　If　a　moment’s　silence　broke　the　conversation；　he　would　turn　restless；　touch　me；　then　say；　“Jane。”
“You　are　altogether　a　human　being；　Jane？　You　are　certain　of　that？”
“I　conscientiously　believe　so；　Mr。　Rochester。”
“Yet　how；　on　this　dark　and　doleful　evening；　could　you　so　suddenly　rise　on　my　lone　hearth？　I　stretched　my　hand　to　take　a　glass　of　water　from　a　hireling；　and　it　was　given　me　by　you：　I　asked　a　question；　expecting　John’s　wife　to　answer　me；　and　yo