Jane Eyre. An Autobiography / Джейн Эйр. Автобиография. Шарлотта Бронте

too; sometimes tore and spoiled her silk dresses; and he was still “her own darling.” I tried to commit no fault: I fulfilled every duty; and I was termed naughty and tiresome, from morning to noon, and from noon to night.

      My head still ached and bled with the blow and fall I had received: no one had blamed John for striking me.

      “Unjust! – unjust!” said my reason.

      I was like nobody in Gateshead Hall; I had nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children. If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them.

      Daylight began to leave the red-room; it was past four o’clock, and the afternoon was turning into twilight. I heard the rain still beating on the window and the wind howling in the grove; I grew cold as a stone, and then my courage left me. All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so. I could not remember Mr. Reed; but I knew that he was my own uncle – my mother’s brother – that he had taken me as a parentless infant to his house; and that in his last moments he had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain me as one of her own children. Mrs. Reed probably considered she had kept this promise. Then a strange idea occurred to me. I never doubted – that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me kindly; and now I began to recall what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their graves by the violation of their last wishes; and I thought Mr. Reed’s spirit might rise before me in this chamber. I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs. This idea would be terrible if realized. I lifted my head and tried to look boldly round the dark room; at this moment a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, I asked myself, a ray from the moon? No; moonlight was still, and this stirred; while I gazed, it glided up to the ceiling over my head. I can now assume that this light was, in all likelihood, a gleam from a lantern carried by some one across the lawn: but then I thought the beam was a herald of some vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my head grew hot; something seemed near me; I rushed to the door and shook the lock. Steps came running along the passage; the key turned, Bessie and Abbot entered.

      “Miss Eyre, are you ill?” said Bessie.

      “What a dreadful noise!” exclaimed Abbot.

      “Take me out! Let me go into the nursery!” was my cry.

      “What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?” again demanded Bessie.

      “Oh! I saw a light, and I thought a ghost would come.” I had now got hold of Bessie’s hand, and she did not snatch it from me.

      “She has screamed out on purpose,” declared Abbot, in some disgust. “If she had been in great pain one would have excused it, but she only wanted to bring us all here: I know her naughty tricks.”

      “What is all this?” demanded another voice; and Mrs. Reed came along the corridor.

      “Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders that Jane Eyre should be left in the red-room till I came to her myself.”

      “Miss Jane screamed so loud, ma’am,” pleaded Bessie.

      “Let her go,” was the only answer. “Loose Bessie’s hand, child: it is my duty to show you that tricks will not answer: you will now stay here an hour longer.”

      “O aunt! have pity! Forgive me! I cannot endure it – let me be punished some other way! I shall be killed if —”

      “Silence!” I was an actress in her eyes.

      When Bessie and Abbot had left, Mrs. Reed thrust me back and locked me in, without farther words. Soon after she was gone, I suppose I had a fit and lost consciousness.

      Chapter III

      The next thing I remember, is waking up with a feeling as if I had had a frightful nightmare. Before long, I became aware that some one was lifting me up and supporting me in a sitting position.

      In five minutes more I knew quite well that I was in my own bed. It was night: a candle burnt on the table; Bessie stood at the bed-foot with a basin in her hand, and a gentleman sat in a chair near my pillow, leaning over me.

      I felt a great relief, a feeling of protection and security, when I knew that there was a stranger in the room, an individual not belonging to Gateshead, and not related to Mrs. Reed. I knew him; it was Mr. Lloyd, an apothecary, sometimes called in by Mrs. Reed when the servants were ailing: for herself and the children she called a physician.

      “Well, who am I?” he asked.

      I said his name and gave him my hand: he took it, smiling and saying, “We shall do very well by-and-by.” Then he laid me down, and addressing Bessie asked her to be careful and not to disturb me during the night. Soon he left; to my grief: I felt so protected while he sat in the chair near my pillow; and as he closed the door after him, all the room darkened.

      “Would you like to drink, or could you eat anything?” asked Bessie, rather softly.

      “No, thank you, Bessie.”

      “Then I think I shall go to bed, for it is past twelve o’clock; but you may call me if you want anything in the night.”

      I dared to ask a question.

      “Bessie, what is the matter with me? Am I ill?”

      “You fell sick in the red-room with crying; you’ll be better soon, no doubt.”

      Bessie went into the housemaid’s room, which was near. I heard her say —

      “Sarah, come and sleep with me in the nursery; I don’t want to be alone with that poor child to-night: she might die; it’s such a strange thing she should have that fit: I wonder if she saw anything. Missis was rather too hard.”

      Sarah came back with her; they both went to bed; they were whispering together for half-an-hour before they fell asleep.

      For me, the watches of that long night went very slowly.

      No severe illness followed this incident of the redroom; it only gave my nerves a shock which I feel to this day.

      Next day, by noon, I was up and dressed, and sat by the nursery hearth. I felt physically weak and broken down. Yet, I thought, I ought to have been happy, for none of the Reeds were there, they were all gone out in the carriage with their mama. Sarah Abbot was sewing in another room, and Bessie, as she moved hither and thither[11], putting away toys and arranging drawers, addressed to me every now and then a word of kindness. This state of things should have been to me a paradise of peace, but, in fact, my racked nerves were now in such a state that nothing could calm them.

      Bessie had been down into the kitchen, and she brought up with her a tart on a brightly painted china plate, which was my favourite. This precious plate was now placed on my knee, and I was invited to eat the delicate pastry upon it. But this favour came, like most other favours often wished for, too late! I could not eat the tart; I put both plate and tart away. Bessie asked if I would have a book: the word book acted as a stimulus, and I begged her to fetch Gulliver’s Travels from the library. This book I had again and again read with delight. Yet, when this volume was now placed in my hand, all was eerie and dreary. I closed the book and put it on the table, beside the untasted tart.

      Bessie had now finished dusting and tidying the room, and began making a new bonnet for Georgiana’s doll. Meantime she sang: her song was —

      “In the days when we went gipsying, A long time ago.”

      I had often heard the song before, and always with delight; for Bessie had a sweet voice, – at least, I thought so. But now, I found in its melody a great sadness.

      In the course of the morning Mr. Lloyd came again.

      “What, already up!” said he, as he entered the nursery. “Well, nurse, how is she?”

      Bessie answered that I was doing very well.

      “Then she ought to look more cheerful. Come here, Miss Jane: your name is Jane, is it not?”

      “Yes, sir, Jane Eyre.”

      “Well, you have been crying, Miss Jane Eyre; can you tell me what about? Have you any pain?”

      “No,

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