简爱(英文版)-第83部分
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“Yes; Hannah—a far larger country than England; where they talk in no other way。”
“Well; for sure case; I knawn’t how they can understand t’ one t’other: and if either o’ ye went there; ye could tell what they said; I guess?”
“We could probably tell something of what they said; but not all— for we are not as clever as you think us; Hannah。 We don’t speak German; and we cannot read it without a dictionary to help us。”
“And what good does it do you?”
“We mean to teach it some time—or at least the elements; as they say; and then we shall get more money than we do now。”
“Varry like: but give ower studying; ye’ve done enough for to… night。”
“I think we have: at least I’m tired。 Mary; are you?”
“Mortally: after all; it’s tough work fagging away at a language with no master but a lexicon。”
“It is; especially such a language as this crabbed but glorious Deutsch。 I wonder when St。 John will e home。”
“Surely he will not be long now: it is just ten (looking at a little gold watch she drew from her girdle)。 It rains fast; Hannah: will you have the goodness to look at the fire in the parlour?”
The woman rose: she opened a door; through which I dimly saw a passage: soon I heard her stir a fire in an inner room; she presently came back。
“Ah; childer!” said she; “it fair troubles me to go into yond’ room now: it looks so lonesome wi’ the chair empty and set back in a corner。”
She wiped her eyes with her apron: the two girls; grave before; looked sad now。
“But he is in a better place;” continued Hannah: “we shouldn’t wish him here again。 And then; nobody need to have a quieter death nor he had。”
“You say he never mentioned us?” inquired one of the ladies。
“He hadn’t time; bairn: he was gone in a minute; was your father。 He had been a bit ailing like the day before; but naught to signify; and when Mr。 St。 John asked if he would like either o’ ye to be sent for; he fair laughed at him。 He began again with a bit of a heaviness in his head the next day—that is; a fortnight sin’—and he went to sleep and niver wakened: he wor a’most stark when your brother went into t’ chamber and fand him。 Ah; childer! that’s t’ last o’ t’ old stock—for ye and Mr。 St。 John is like of different soart to them ‘at’s gone; for all your mother wor mich i’ your way; and a’most as book…learned。 She wor the pictur’ o’ ye; Mary: Diana is more like your father。”
I thought them so similar I could not tell where the old servant (for such I now concluded her to be) saw the difference。 Both were fair plexioned and slenderly made; both possessed faces full of distinction and intelligence。 One; to be sure; had hair a shade darker than the other; and there was a difference in their style of wearing it; Mary’s pale brown locks were parted and braided smooth: Diana’s duskier tresses covered her neck with thick curls。 The clock struck ten。
“Ye’ll want your supper; I am sure;” observed Hannah; “and so will Mr。 St。 John when he es in。”
And she proceeded to prepare the meal。 The ladies rose; they seemed about to withdraw to the parlour。 Till this moment; I had been so intent on watching them; their appearance and conversation had excited in me so keen an interest; I had half…forgotten my own wretched position: now it recurred to me。 More desolate; more desperate than ever; it seemed from contrast。 And how impossible did it appear to touch the inmates of this house with concern on my behalf; to make them believe in the truth of my wants and woes—to induce them to vouchsafe a rest for my wanderings! As I groped out the door; and knocked at it hesitatingly; I felt that last idea to be a mere chimera。 Hannah opened。
“What do you want?” she inquired; in a voice of surprise; as she surveyed me by the light of the candle she held。
“May I speak to your mistresses?” I said。
“You had better tell me what you have to say to them。 Where do you e from?”
“I am a stranger。”
“What is your business here at this hour?”
“I want a night’s shelter in an out…house or anywhere; and a morsel of bread to eat。”
Distrust; the very feeling I dreaded; appeared in Hannah’s face。 “I’ll give you a piece of bread;” she said; after a pause; “but we can’t take in a vagrant to lodge。 It isn’t likely。”
“Do let me speak to your mistresses。”
“No; not I。 What can they do for you? You should not be roving about now; it looks very ill。”
“But where shall I go if you drive me away? What shall I do?”
“Oh; I’ll warrant you know where to go and what to do。 Mind you don’t do wrong; that’s all。 Here is a penny; now go—”
“A penny cannot feed me; and I have no strength to go farther。 Don’t shut the door:… oh; don’t; for God’s sake!”
“I must; the rain is driving in—”
“Tell the young ladies。 Let me see them… ”
“Indeed; I will not。 You are not what you ought to be; or you wouldn’t make such a noise。 Move off。”
“But I must die if I am turned away。”
“Not you。 I’m fear’d you have some ill plans agate; that bring you about folk’s houses at this time o’ night。 If you’ve any followers—housebreakers or such like—anywhere near; you may tell them we are not by ourselves in the house; we have a gentleman; and dogs; and guns。” Here the honest but inflexible servant clapped the door to and bolted it within。
This was the climax。 A pang of exquisite suffering—a throe of true despair—rent and heaved my heart。 Worn out; indeed; I was; not another step could I stir。 I sank on the wet doorstep: I groaned— I wrung my hands—I wept in utter anguish。 Oh; this spectre of death! Oh; this last hour; approaching in such horror! Alas; this isolation—this banishment from my kind! Not only the anchor of hope; but the footing of fortitude was gone—at least for a moment; but the last I soon endeavoured to regain。
“I can but die;” I said; “and I believe in God。 Let me try to wait His will in silence。”
These words I not only thought; but uttered; and thrusting back all my misery into my heart; I made an effort to pel it to remain there—dumb and still。
“All men must die;” said a voice quite close at hand; “but all are not condemned to meet a lingering and premature doom; such as yours would be if you perished here of want。”
“Who or what speaks?” I asked; terrified at the unexpected sound; and incapable now of deriving from any occurrence a hope of aid。 A form was near—what form; the pitch…dark night and my enfeebled vision prevented me from distinguishing。 With a loud long knock; the new…er appealed to the door。
“Is it you; Mr。 St。 John?” cried Hannah。
“Yes—yes; open quickly。”
“Well; how wet and cold you must be; such a wild night as it is! e in—your sisters are quite uneasy about you; and I believe there are bad folks about。 There has been a beggar…woman—I declare she is not gone yet!—laid down there。 Get up! for shame! Move off; I say!”
“Hush; Hannah! I have a word to say to the woman。 You have done your duty in excluding; now let me do mine in admitting her。 I was near; and listened to both you and her。 I think this is a peculiar case—I must at least examine into it。 Young woman; rise; and pass before me into the house。”
With difficulty I obeyed him。 Presently I stood within that clean; bright kitchen—on the very hearth—trembling; sickening; conscious of an aspect in the last degree ghastly; wild; and weather…beaten。 The two ladies; their brother; Mr。 St。 John; the old servant; were all gazing at me。
“St。 John; who is it?” I heard one ask。
“I cannot tell: I found her at the door;” was the reply。
“She does look white;” said Hannah。
“As white as clay or death;” was responded。 “She will fall: let her sit。”
And indeed my head swam: I dropped; but a chair received me。 I still possessed my senses; though just now I could not speak。
“Perhaps a little water would restore her。 Hannah; fetch some。 But she is worn to nothing。 How very thin; and how very bloodless!”
“A mere spectre!”
“Is she ill; or only famished?”
“Famished; I think。 Hannah; is that milk? Give it me; and a piece of bread。”
Diana (I knew her by the long curls which I saw drooping between me and the fire as she bent over me) broke some bread; dipped it in milk; and put it to my lips。 Her face was near mine: I saw there was pity in it; and I felt sympathy in her hurried breathing。 In her simple words; too; the same balm…like emotion spoke: “Try to eat。”
“Yes—try;” repeated Mary gently; and Mary’s hand removed my sodden bon and lifted my head。 I tasted what they offered me: feebly at first; eagerly soon。
“Not too much at first—restrain her;” said the brother; “she has had enough。” And he withdrew the cup of milk and the plate of bread。
“A little more; St。 John—look at the avidity in her eyes。”
“No more at present; sister。 Try if she can speak now—ask her her name。”
I felt I could speak; and I answered—“My name is Jane Elliott。” Anxious as ever to avoid discovery; I had before resolved to assume an alias。
“And where do you live? Where are your friends?”
I was silent。
“Can we send for any one you know?”
I shook my head。
“What account can you give of yourself?”
Somehow; now that I had once crossed the threshold of this house; and once was brought face to face with its