Джейн Эйр / Jane Eyre

It was at that moment that I saw a glowing light ahead. At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me; or that it was one of the ghostly lights that appear on the moors when marsh gases catch fire. But it stayed steady, so I headed toward it.

It was pitch-dark by now, and I could barely see my way. I splashed across a bog, and twice I fell down in the mud. I felt my way up a steep slope, past bushes and rocks, until at last, I saw that the light came from a little window, and against the black sky I could just make out the even blacker shape of a long, low cottage. Reaching out my hands, I found a rough garden wall, and moved along it until I came to the gate. I went up to the window, and looked in.

Inside I saw a little kitchen, clean and bright, with a sanded floor and a polished dresser. In front of the window was a table with a candle on it. An old woman sat there, knitting a stocking, and beyond her I saw a fireplace with a bright fire burning. Sitting beside it were two younger ladies, both dressed in black, with a dog at their feet.

I saw them talking and heard their voices, though I could not hear what they said. Then the older woman got up and started to prepare supper. That reminded me of my own reduced state, and I realized that if I was going to ask them for help, I had better do it now, before they all went to bed.

I knocked at the door. The old woman answered.

“May I speak to the two young ladies?” I asked.

“You can speak to me. What do you want?”

“Please, ma’am, I need shelter, and a morsel to eat.”

“I’ll give you a penny,” she said, taking one from her pocket and handing it over, “but you can’t stay here.” She looked me up and down suspiciously. “And if you’ve some fellows with you, hiding in the bushes, who are planning to rob us, you can tell them not to bother. The master of the house will be back soon, and we’ve a dog, you know, and a gun.”

Then she slammed and bolted the door.

“No!” I cried, falling to my knees on the wet paving stones. “Please! I will die if I stay out here!”

“We will all die anyhow, in the end,” said a voice behind me. “But to die so soon would be a shame.”

I turned and saw, through the dark and rain, a tall man coming up the path. He helped me to my feet, knocked on the door and called: “It is I! St. John!”

The old woman opened the door again. “Hannah, thank you for guarding us against attack, but I believe this young lady is in true need,” he told her, and led me into the house.

Soon I was sitting before that warm hearth myself, surrounded by all four strangers. I knew I must look shocking to them. I was weak and exhausted, my face was tearstained, and my dress was soaked and smeared with mud. But although they all looked amazed, they were not unkind.

“I am Diana Rivers,” she said. “This is my brother St. John, and my sister Mary. What is your name?”

“It is Jane,” I said. “Jane Elliot.”

“Are you lost? Can we send for your family or friends?” asked St. John.

“There is no one.”

“How did you come here?” asked Mary, taking my hand gently. But I could speak no more.

“Hannah,” said Mr. St. John, at last, “let her sit there and ask her no questions; in ten minutes more, give her the remainder of that milk and bread.”

I sat by the genial fire. Then my dripping clothes were removed; soon a warm, dry bed received me. I thanked God and slept.

Chapter 29

The recollection of about three days and nights that followed are dim in my memory. I had caught a fever, and I spent all this time in bed, barely conscious. The two sisters often came in to sit at my bedside.

“Poor little thing,” said one of them. “I wonder what happened to her, and how she ended up here?”

“It is very well we took her in,” said the other.

“She is not an uneducated person, I think. Her accent was pure, and the clothes she took off, though dirty and wet, were little worn and fine.”

“And she has a peculiar face, I rather like it.”

They didn’t know I could hear them, but no one ever regretted they had helped me.

On the fourth day, I was well enough to eat some porridge and, the day after that, I woke up in the morning feeling much better. My dress was hanging on the back of a chair, freshly washed. When I put it on, it was too big for me, as I had eaten hardly anything for a week. But I found a comb and smoothed my hair, and went downstairs.

The house was filled with the smell of baking, and I found Hannah in the kitchen, hard at work. Although our first meeting had not gone well, she smiled at me now. After she had sat me down by the fire, she started asking me questions.

“Had you been begging before you came here?”

“I’m not a beggar – not really.”

“Are you book learned, then?” she asked.

“Yes, very. I was at boarding school eight years.”

“Really! Why cannot you keep yourself? ”

“I have kept myself, and I will again,” I said.

“Well then,” she said, “I’m right sorry I doubted you. It’s just there’s so many rogues and liars about, I took you for a vagabond.”

She gave me her hand to shake, and from that moment on we were friends.