No More Learning

"

"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 comfortable 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? "

{You are altogether a human being, Jane? You are certain of that? :
p422. jpg}

"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 your voice spoke at my ear. "

"Because I had come in, in Mary's stead, with the tray. "

"And there is enchantment in the very hour I am now spending with you.
Who can tell what a dark, dreary, hopeless life I have dragged on for
months past? Doing nothing, expecting nothing; merging night in day;
feeling but the sensation of cold when I let the fire go out, of hunger
when I forgot to eat: and then a ceaseless sorrow, and, at times, a very
delirium of desire to behold my Jane again. Yes: for her restoration I
longed, far more than for that of my lost sight. How can it be that Jane
is with me, and says she loves me? Will she not depart as suddenly as
she came? To-morrow, I fear I shall find her no more. "

A commonplace, practical reply, out of the train of his own disturbed
ideas, was, I was sure, the best and most reassuring for him in this
frame of mind. I passed my finger over his eyebrows, and remarked that
they were scorched, and that I would apply something which would make
them grow as broad and black as ever.

"Where is the use of doing me good in any way, beneficent spirit, when,
at some fatal moment, you will again desert me--passing like a shadow,
whither and how to me unknown, and for me remaining afterwards
undiscoverable?

"Have you a pocket-comb about you, sir? "

"What for, Jane? "

"Just to comb out this shaggy black mane. I find you rather alarming,
when I examine you close at hand: you talk of my being a fairy, but I am
sure, you are more like a brownie. "

"Am I hideous, Jane? "

"Very, sir: you always were, you know. "

"Humph! The wickedness has not been taken out of you, wherever you have
sojourned. "

"Yet I have been with good people; far better than you: a hundred times
better people; possessed of ideas and views you never entertained in your
life: quite more refined and exalted. "

"Who the deuce have you been with? "

"If you twist in that way you will make me pull the hair out of your
head; and then I think you will cease to entertain doubts of my
substantiality. "

"Who have you been with, Jane? "

"You shall not get it out of me to-night, sir; you must wait till
to-morrow; to leave my tale half told, will, you know, be a sort of
security that I shall appear at your breakfast table to finish it. By
the bye, I must mind not to rise on your hearth with only a glass of
water then: I must bring an egg at the least, to say nothing of fried
ham. "

"You mocking changeling--fairy-born and human-bred! You make me feel as
I have not felt these twelve months. If Saul could have had you for his
David, the evil spirit would have been exorcised without the aid of the
harp. "

"There, sir, you are redd up and made decent. Now I'll leave you: I have
been travelling these last three days, and I believe I am tired. Good
night. "

"Just one word, Jane: were there only ladies in the house where you have
been? "

I laughed and made my escape, still laughing as I ran upstairs. "A good
idea! " I thought with glee. "I see I have the means of fretting him out
of his melancholy for some time to come. "

Very early the next morning I heard him up and astir, wandering from one
room to another. As soon as Mary came down I heard the question: "Is
Miss Eyre here? " Then: "Which room did you put her into? Was it dry? Is
she up? Go and ask if she wants anything; and when she will come down. "

I came down as soon as I thought there was a prospect of breakfast.
Entering the room very softly, I had a view of him before he discovered
my presence. It was mournful, indeed, to witness the subjugation of that
vigorous spirit to a corporeal infirmity. He sat in his chair--still,
but not at rest: expectant evidently; the lines of now habitual sadness
marking his strong features. His countenance reminded one of a lamp
quenched, waiting to be re-lit--and alas! it was not himself that could
now kindle the lustre of animated expression: he was dependent on another
for that office! I had meant to be gay and careless, but the
powerlessness of the strong man touched my heart to the quick: still I
accosted him with what vivacity I could.

"It is a bright, sunny morning, sir," I said. "The rain is over and
gone, and there is a tender shining after it: you shall have a walk
soon. "

I had wakened the glow: his features beamed.

"Oh, you are indeed there, my skylark! Come to me. You are not gone:
not vanished? I heard one of your kind an hour ago, singing high over
the wood: but its song had no music for me, any more than the rising sun
had rays. All the melody on earth is concentrated in my Jane's tongue to
my ear (I am glad it is not naturally a silent one): all the sunshine I
can feel is in her presence. "

The water stood in my eyes to hear this avowal of his dependence; just as
if a royal eagle, chained to a perch, should be forced to entreat a
sparrow to become its purveyor. But I would not be lachrymose: I dashed
off the salt drops, and busied myself with preparing breakfast.

Most of the morning was spent in the open air. I led him out of the wet
and wild wood into some cheerful fields: I described to him how
brilliantly green they were; how the flowers and hedges looked refreshed;
how sparklingly blue was the sky. I sought a seat for him in a hidden
and lovely spot, a dry stump of a tree; nor did I refuse to let him, when
seated, place me on his knee. Why should I, when both he and I were
happier near than apart? Pilot lay beside us: all was quiet. He broke
out suddenly while clasping me in his arms--

"Cruel, cruel deserter! Oh, Jane, what did I feel when I discovered you
had fled from Thornfield, and when I could nowhere find you; and, after
examining your apartment, ascertained that you had taken no money, nor
anything which could serve as an equivalent! A pearl necklace I had
given you lay untouched in its little casket; your trunks were left
corded and locked as they had been prepared for the bridal tour. What
could my darling do, I asked, left destitute and penniless? And what did
she do? Let me hear now. "

Thus urged, I began the narrative of my experience for the last year. I
softened considerably what related to the three days of wandering and
starvation, because to have told him all would have been to inflict
unnecessary pain: the little I did say lacerated his faithful heart
deeper than I wished.

I should not have left him thus, he said, without any means of making my
way: I should have told him my intention. I should have confided in him:
he would never have forced me to be his mistress. Violent as he had
seemed in his despair, he, in truth, loved me far too well and too
tenderly to constitute himself my tyrant: he would have given me half his
fortune, without demanding so much as a kiss in return, rather than I
should have flung myself friendless on the wide world. I had endured, he
was certain, more than I had confessed to him.

"Well, whatever my sufferings had been, they were very short," I
answered: and then I proceeded to tell him how I had been received at
Moor House; how I had obtained the office of schoolmistress, &c. The
accession of fortune, the discovery of my relations, followed in due
order. Of course, St. John Rivers' name came in frequently in the
progress of my tale. When I had done, that name was immediately taken
up.

"This St. John, then, is your cousin? "

"Yes. "

"You have spoken of him often: do you like him? "

"He was a very good man, sir; I could not help liking him. "

"A good man. Does that mean a respectable well-conducted man of fifty?
Or what does it mean? "

"St John was only twenty-nine, sir. "

"'_Jeune encore_,' as the French say. Is he a person of low stature,
phlegmatic, and plain. A person whose goodness consists rather in his
guiltlessness of vice, than in his prowess in virtue. "

"He is untiringly active. Great and exalted deeds are what he lives to
perform. "

"But his brain? That is probably rather soft? He means well: but you
shrug your shoulders to hear him talk? "

"He talks little, sir: what he does say is ever to the point. His brain
is first-rate, I should think not impressible, but vigorous. "

"Is he an able man, then? "

"Truly able. "

"A thoroughly educated man? "

"St. John is an accomplished and profound scholar. "

"His manners, I think, you said are not to your taste? --priggish and
parsonic? "

"I never mentioned his manners; but, unless I had a very bad taste, they
must suit it; they are polished, calm, and gentlemanlike. "

"His appearance,--I forget what description you gave of his appearance;--a
sort of raw curate, half strangled with his white neckcloth, and stilted
up on his thick-soled high-lows, eh? "

"St. John dresses well. He is a handsome man: tall, fair, with blue
eyes, and a Grecian profile. "

(Aside. ) "Damn him! "--(To me. ) "Did you like him, Jane? "

"Yes, Mr. Rochester, I liked him: but you asked me that before. "

I perceived, of course, the drift of my interlocutor. Jealousy had got
hold of him: she stung him; but the sting was salutary: it gave him
respite from the gnawing fang of melancholy. I would not, therefore,
immediately charm the snake.

"Perhaps you would rather not sit any longer on my knee, Miss Eyre? " was
the next somewhat unexpected observation.

"Why not, Mr. Rochester? "

"The picture you have just drawn is suggestive of a rather too
overwhelming contrast. Your words have delineated very prettily a
graceful Apollo: he is present to your imagination,--tall, fair, blue-
eyed, and with a Grecian profile. Your eyes dwell on a Vulcan,--a real
blacksmith, brown, broad-shouldered: and blind and lame into the
bargain. "

"I never thought of it, before; but you certainly are rather like Vulcan,
sir. "

"Well, you can leave me, ma'am: but before you go" (and he retained me by
a firmer grasp than ever), "you will be pleased just to answer me a
question or two. " He paused.

"What questions, Mr. Rochester? "

Then followed this cross-examination.

"St. John made you schoolmistress of Morton before he knew you were his
cousin? "

"Yes. "

"You would often see him? He would visit the school sometimes? "

"Daily. "

"He would approve of your plans, Jane? I know they would be clever, for
you are a talented creature! "

"He approved of them--yes. "

"He would discover many things in you he could not have expected to find?
Some of your accomplishments are not ordinary. "

"I don't know about that. "

"You had a little cottage near the school, you say: did he ever come
there to see you? "

"Now and then? "

"Of an evening? "

"Once or twice. "

A pause.

"How long did you reside with him and his sisters after the cousinship
was discovered? "

"Five months. "

"Did Rivers spend much time with the ladies of his family? "

"Yes; the back parlour was both his study and ours: he sat near the
window, and we by the table. "

"Did he study much? "

"A good deal. "

"What? "

"Hindostanee. "

"And what did you do meantime? "

"I learnt German, at first. "

"Did he teach you? "

"He did not understand German. "

"Did he teach you nothing? "

"A little Hindostanee. "

"Rivers taught you Hindostanee? "

"Yes, sir. "

"And his sisters also? "

"No. "

"Only you? "

"Only me. "

"Did you ask to learn? "

"No. "

"He wished to teach you? "

"Yes. "

A second pause.

"Why did he wish it?
Of what use could Hindostanee be to you? "

"He intended me to go with him to India. "

"Ah! here I reach the root of the matter. He wanted you to marry him? "

"He asked me to marry him. "

"That is a fiction--an impudent invention to vex me. "

"I beg your pardon, it is the literal truth: he asked me more than once,
and was as stiff about urging his point as ever you could be. "

"Miss Eyre, I repeat it, you can leave me. How often am I to say the
same thing? Why do you remain pertinaciously perched on my knee, when I
have given you notice to quit? "

"Because I am comfortable there. "

"No, Jane, you are not comfortable there, because your heart is not with
me: it is with this cousin--this St. John. Oh, till this moment, I
thought my little Jane was all mine! I had a belief she loved me even
when she left me: that was an atom of sweet in much bitter. Long as we
have been parted, hot tears as I have wept over our separation, I never
thought that while I was mourning her, she was loving another! But it is
useless grieving. Jane, leave me: go and marry Rivers. "

"Shake me off, then, sir,--push me away, for I'll not leave you of my own
accord. "

"Jane, I ever like your tone of voice: it still renews hope, it sounds so
truthful. When I hear it, it carries me back a year. I forget that you
have formed a new tie. But I am not a fool--go--"

"Where must I go, sir? "

"Your own way--with the husband you have chosen. "

"Who is that? "

"You know--this St. John Rivers. "

"He is not my husband, nor ever will be. He does not love me: I do not
love him. He loves (as he _can_ love, and that is not as you love) a
beautiful young lady called Rosamond. He wanted to marry me only because
he thought I should make a suitable missionary's wife, which she would
not have done. He is good and great, but severe; and, for me, cold as an
iceberg. He is not like you, sir: I am not happy at his side, nor near
him, nor with him. He has no indulgence for me--no fondness. He sees
nothing attractive in me; not even youth--only a few useful mental
points. --Then I must leave you, sir, to go to him? "

I shuddered involuntarily, and clung instinctively closer to my blind but
beloved master. He smiled.

"What, Jane! Is this true? Is such really the state of matters between
you and Rivers? "

"Absolutely, sir! Oh, you need not be jealous! I wanted to tease you a
little to make you less sad: I thought anger would be better than grief.
But if you wish me to love you, could you but see how much I _do_ love
you, you would be proud and content. All my heart is yours, sir: it
belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest
of me from your presence for ever. "

Again, as he kissed me, painful thoughts darkened his aspect.

"My seared vision! My crippled strength! " he murmured regretfully.

I caressed, in order to soothe him. I knew of what he was thinking, and
wanted to speak for him, but dared not. As he turned aside his face a
minute, I saw a tear slide from under the sealed eyelid, and trickle down
the manly cheek. My heart swelled.

"I am no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut-tree in Thornfield
orchard," he remarked ere long. "And what right would that ruin have to
bid a budding woodbine cover its decay with freshness? "

"You are no ruin, sir--no lightning-struck tree: you are green and
vigorous. Plants will grow about your roots, whether you ask them or
not, because they take delight in your bountiful shadow; and as they grow
they will lean towards you, and wind round you, because your strength
offers them so safe a prop. "

Again he smiled: I gave him comfort.

"You speak of friends, Jane? " he asked.

"Yes, of friends," I answered rather hesitatingly: for I knew I meant
more than friends, but could not tell what other word to employ. He
helped me.

"Ah! Jane. But I want a wife. "

"Do you, sir? "

"Yes: is it news to you? "

"Of course: you said nothing about it before. "

"Is it unwelcome news? "

"That depends on circumstances, sir--on your choice. "

"Which you shall make for me, Jane. I will abide by your decision. "

"Choose then, sir--_her who loves you best_. "

"I will at least choose--_her I love best_. Jane, will you marry me? "

"Yes, sir. "

"A poor blind man, whom you will have to lead about by the hand? "

"Yes, sir. "

"A crippled man, twenty years older than you, whom you will have to wait
on? "

"Yes, sir. "

"Truly, Jane? "

"Most truly, sir. "

"Oh! my darling! God bless you and reward you! "

"Mr. Rochester, if ever I did a good deed in my life--if ever I thought a
good thought--if ever I prayed a sincere and blameless prayer--if ever I
wished a righteous wish,--I am rewarded now. To be your wife is, for me,
to be as happy as I can be on earth. "

"Because you delight in sacrifice. "

"Sacrifice! What do I sacrifice? Famine for food, expectation for
content. To be privileged to put my arms round what I value--to press my
lips to what I love--to repose on what I trust: is that to make a
sacrifice? If so, then certainly I delight in sacrifice. "

"And to bear with my infirmities, Jane: to overlook my deficiencies. "

"Which are none, sir, to me. I love you better now, when I can really be
useful to you, than I did in your state of proud independence, when you
disdained every part but that of the giver and protector. "

"Hitherto I have hated to be helped--to be led: henceforth, I feel I
shall hate it no more. I did not like to put my hand into a hireling's,
but it is pleasant to feel it circled by Jane's little fingers. I
preferred utter loneliness to the constant attendance of servants; but
Jane's soft ministry will be a perpetual joy. Jane suits me: do I suit
her? "

"To the finest fibre of my nature, sir. "

"The case being so, we have nothing in the world to wait for: we must be
married instantly. "

He looked and spoke with eagerness: his old impetuosity was rising.

"We must become one flesh without any delay, Jane: there is but the
licence to get--then we marry. "

"Mr. Rochester, I have just discovered the sun is far declined from its
meridian, and Pilot is actually gone home to his dinner. Let me look at
your watch. "

"Fasten it into your girdle, Janet, and keep it henceforward: I have no
use for it. "

"It is nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, sir. Don't you feel
hungry? "

"The third day from this must be our wedding-day, Jane. Never mind fine
clothes and jewels, now: all that is not worth a fillip. "

"The sun has dried up all the rain-drops, sir. The breeze is still: it
is quite hot. "

"Do you know, Jane, I have your little pearl necklace at this moment
fastened round my bronze scrag under my cravat? I have worn it since the
day I lost my only treasure, as a memento of her. "

"We will go home through the wood: that will be the shadiest way. "

He pursued his own thoughts without heeding me.

"Jane! you think me, I daresay, an irreligious dog: but my heart swells
with gratitude to the beneficent God of this earth just now. He sees not
as man sees, but far clearer: judges not as man judges, but far more
wisely. I did wrong: I would have sullied my innocent flower--breathed
guilt on its purity: the Omnipotent snatched it from me. I, in my stiff-
necked rebellion, almost cursed the dispensation: instead of bending to
the decree, I defied it. Divine justice pursued its course; disasters
came thick on me: I was forced to pass through the valley of the shadow
of death. _His_ chastisements are mighty; and one smote me which has
humbled me for ever. You know I was proud of my strength: but what is it
now, when I must give it over to foreign guidance, as a child does its
weakness? Of late, Jane--only--only of late--I began to see and
acknowledge the hand of God in my doom. I began to experience remorse,
repentance; the wish for reconcilement to my Maker. I began sometimes to
pray: very brief prayers they were, but very sincere.

"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! '"

"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.

"As I exclaimed 'Jane! Jane! Jane! ' a voice--I cannot 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! "

Reader, it was on Monday night--near midnight--that I too had received
the mysterious summons: those were the very words by which I replied to
it. I listened to Mr. Rochester's narrative, but made no disclosure in
return. The coincidence struck me as too awful and inexplicable to be
communicated or discussed. If I told anything, my tale would be such as
must necessarily make a profound impression on the mind of my hearer: and
that mind, yet from its sufferings too prone to gloom, needed not the
deeper shade of the supernatural. I kept these things then, and pondered
them in my heart.

"You cannot now wonder," continued my master, "that when you rose upon me
so unexpectedly last night, I had difficulty in believing you any other
than a mere voice and vision, something that would melt to silence and
annihilation, as the midnight whisper and mountain echo had melted
before. Now, I thank God! I know it to be otherwise. Yes, I thank
God! "

He put me off his knee, rose, and reverently lifting his hat from his
brow, and bending his sightless eyes to the earth, he stood in mute
devotion. Only the last words of the worship were audible.

"I thank my Maker, that, in the midst of judgment, he has remembered
mercy. I humbly entreat my Redeemer to give me strength to lead
henceforth a purer life than I have done hitherto! "

Then he stretched his hand out to be led. I took that dear hand, held it
a moment to my lips, then let it pass round my shoulder: being so much
lower of stature than he, I served both for his prop and guide. We
entered the wood, and wended homeward.




CHAPTER XXXVIII--CONCLUSION


Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and
clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the
kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John
cleaning the knives, and I said--

"Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning. " The
housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of
people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece
of news without incurring the danger of having one's ears pierced by some
shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy
wonderment. Mary did look up, and she did stare at me: the ladle with
which she was basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did for
some three minutes hang suspended in air; and for the same space of time
John's knives also had rest from the polishing process: but Mary, bending
again over the roast, said only--

"Have you, Miss? Well, for sure! "

A short time after she pursued--"I seed you go out with the master, but I
didn't know you were gone to church to be wed;" and she basted away.
John, when I turned to him, was grinning from ear to ear.

"I telled Mary how it would be," he said: "I knew what Mr. Edward" (John
was an old servant, and had known his master when he was the cadet of the
house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian name)--"I knew what Mr.
Edward would do; and I was certain he would not wait long neither: and
he's done right, for aught I know. I wish you joy, Miss! " and he
politely pulled his forelock.

"Thank you, John. Mr. Rochester told me to give you and Mary this. " I
put into his hand a five-pound note. Without waiting to hear more, I
left the kitchen. In passing the door of that sanctum some time after, I
caught the words--

"She'll happen do better for him nor ony o't' grand ladies. " And again,
"If she ben't one o' th' handsomest, she's noan faal and varry
good-natured; and i' his een she's fair beautiful, onybody may see that. "

I wrote to Moor House and to Cambridge immediately, to say what I had
done: fully explaining also why I had thus acted. Diana and Mary
approved the step unreservedly. Diana announced that she would just give
me time to get over the honeymoon, and then she would come and see me.

"She had better not wait till then, Jane," said Mr.