简爱(英文版)-第28部分

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The　divining　party　again　laid　their　heads　together：　apparently　they　could　not　agree　about　the　word　or　syllable　the　scene　illustrated。　Colonel　Dent；　their　spokesman；　demanded　“the　tableau　of　the　whole；”　whereupon　the　curtain　again　descended。
On　its　third　rising　only　a　portion　of　the　drawing…room　was　disclosed；　the　rest　being　concealed　by　a　screen；　hung　with　some　sort　of　dark　and　coarse　drapery。　The　marble　basin　was　removed；　in　its　place；　stood　a　deal　table　and　a　kitchen　chair：　these　objects　were　visible　by　a　very　dim　light　proceeding　from　a　horn　lantern；　the　wax　candles　being　all　extinguished。
Amidst　this　sordid　scene；　sat　a　man　with　his　clenched　hands　resting　on　his　knees；　and　his　eyes　bent　on　the　ground。　I　knew　Mr。　Rochester；　though　the　begrimed　face；　the　disordered　dress　（his　coat　hanging　loose　from　one　arm；　as　if　it　had　been　almost　torn　from　his　back　in　a　scuffle）；　the　desperate　and　scowling　countenance；　the　rough；　bristling　hair　might　well　have　disguised　him。　As　he　moved；　a　chain　clanked；　to　his　wrists　were　attached　fetters。
“Bridewell！”　exclaimed　Colonel　Dent；　and　the　charade　was　solved。
A　sufficient　interval　having　elapsed　for　the　performers　to　resume　their　ordinary　costume；　they　re…entered　the　dining…room。　Mr。　Rochester　led　in　Miss　Ingram；　she　was　plimenting　him　on　his　acting。
“Do　you　know；”　said　she；　“that；　of　the　three　characters；　I　liked　you　in　the　last　best？　Oh；　had　you　but　lived　a　few　years　earlier；　what　a　gallant　gentleman…highwayman　you　would　have　made！”
“Is　all　the　soot　washed　from　my　face？”　he　asked；　turning　it　towards　her。
“Alas！　yes：　the　more’s　the　pity！　Nothing　could　be　more　being　to　your　plexion　than　that　ruffian’s　rouge。”
“You　would　like　a　hero　of　the　road　then？”
“An　English　hero　of　the　road　would　be　the　next　best　thing　to　an　Italian　bandit；　and　that　could　only　be　surpassed　by　a　Levantine　pirate。”
“Well；　whatever　I　am；　remember　you　are　my　wife；　we　were　married　an　hour　since；　in　the　presence　of　all　these　witnesses。”　She　giggled；　and　her　colour　rose。
“Now；　Dent；”　continued　Mr。　Rochester；　“it　is　your　turn。”　And　as　the　other　party　withdrew；　he　and　his　band　took　the　vacated　seats。　Miss　Ingram　placed　herself　at　her　leader’s　right　hand；　the　other　diviners　filled　the　chairs　on　each　side　of　him　and　her。　I　did　not　now　watch　the　actors；　I　no　longer　waited　with　interest　for　the　curtain　to　rise；　my　attention　was　absorbed　by　the　spectators；　my　eyes；　erewhile　fixed　on　the　arch；　were　now　irresistibly　attracted　to　the　semicircle　of　chairs。　What　charade　Colonel　Dent　and　his　party　played；　what　word　they　chose；　hoselves；　I　no　longer　remember；　but　I　still　see　the　consultation　which　followed　each　scene：　I　see　Mr。　Rochester　turn　to　Miss　Ingram；　and　Miss　Ingram　to　him；　I　see　her　incline　her　head　towards　him；　till　the　jetty　curls　almost　touch　his　shoulder　and　wave　against　his　cheek；　I　hear　their　mutual　whisperings；　I　recall　their　interchanged　glances；　and　something　even　of　the　feeling　roused　by　the　spectacle　returns　in　memory　at　this　moment。
I　have　told　you；　reader；　that　I　had　learnt　to　love　Mr。　Rochester：　I　could　not　unlove　him　now；　merely　because　I　found　that　he　had　ceased　to　notice　me—because　I　might　pass　hours　in　his　presence；　and　he　would　never　once　turn　his　eyes　in　my　direction—because　I　saw　all　his　attentions　appropriated　by　a　great　lady；　who　scorned　to　touch　me　with　the　hem　of　her　robes　as　she　passed；　who；　if　ever　her　dark　and　imperious　eye　fell　on　me　by　chance；　would　withdraw　it　instantly　as　from　an　object　too　mean　to　merit　observation。　I　could　not　unlove　him；　because　I　felt　sure　he　would　soon　marry　this　very　lady—because　I　read　daily　in　her　a　proud　security　in　his　intentions　respecting　her—because　I　witnessed　hourly　in　him　a　style　of　courtship　which；　if　careless　and　choosing　rather　to　be　sought　than　to　seek；　was　yet；　in　its　very　carelessness；　captivating；　and　in　its　very　pride；　irresistible。
There　was　nothing　to　cool　or　banish　love　in　these　circumstances；　though　much　to　create　despair。　Much　too；　you　will　think；　reader；　to　engender　jealousy：　if　a　woman；　in　my　position；　could　presume　to　be　jealous　of　a　woman　in　Miss　Ingram’s。　But　I　was　not　jealous：　or　very　rarely；—the　nature　of　the　pain　I　suffered　could　not　be　explained　by　that　word。　Miss　Ingram　was　a　mark　beneath　jealousy：　she　was　too　inferior　to　excite　the　feeling。　Pardon　the　seeming　paradox；　I　mean　what　I　say。　She　was　very　showy；　but　she　was　not　genuine：　she　had　a　fine　person；　many　brilliant　attainments；　but　her　mind　was　poor；　her　heart　barren　by　nature：　nothing　bloomed　spontaneously　on　that　soil；　no　unforced　natural　fruit　delighted　by　its　freshness。　She　was　not　good；　she　was　not　original：　she　used　to　repeat　sounding　phrases　from　books：　she　never　offered；　nor　had；　an　opinion　of　her　own。　She　advocated　a　high　tone　of　sentiment；　but　she　did　not　know　the　sensations　of　sympathy　and　pity；　tenderness　and　truth　were　not　in　her。　Too　often　she　betrayed　this；　by　the　undue　vent　she　gave　to　a　spiteful　antipathy　she　had　conceived　against　little　Adèle：　pushing　her　away　with　some　contumelious　epithet　if　she　happened　to　approach　her；　sometimes　ordering　her　from　the　room；　and　always　treating　her　with　coldness　and　acrimony。　Other　eyes　besides　mine　watched　these　manifestations　of　character—watched　them　closely；　keenly；　shrewdly。　Yes；　the　future　bridegroom；　Mr。　Rochester　himself；　exercised　over　his　intended　a　ceaseless　surveillance；　and　it　was　from　this　sagacity—this　guardedness　of　his—this　perfect；　clear　consciousness　of　his　fair　one’s　defects—　this　obvious　absence　of　passion　in　his　sentiments　towards　her；　that　my　ever…torturing　pain　arose。
I　saw　he　was　going　to　marry　her；　for　family；　perhaps　political　reasons；　because　her　rank　and　connections　suited　him；　I　felt　he　had　not　given　her　his　love；　and　that　her　qualifications　were　ill　adapted　to　win　from　him　that　treasure。　This　was　the　point—this　was　where　the　nerve　was　touched　and　teased—this　was　where　the　fever　was　sustained　and　fed：　she　could　not　charm　him。
If　she　had　managed　the　victory　at　once；　and　he　had　yielded　and　sincerely　laid　his　heart　at　her　feet；　I　should　have　covered　my　face；　turned　to　the　wall；　and　（figuratively）　have　died　to　them。　If　Miss　Ingram　had　been　a　good　and　noble　woman；　endowed　with　force；　fervour；　kindness；　sense；　I　should　have　had　one　vital　struggle　with　two　tigers—jealousy　and　despair：　then；　my　heart　torn　out　and　devoured；　I　should　have　admired　her—acknowledged　her　excellence；　and　been　quiet　for　the　rest　of　my　days：　and　the　more　absolute　her　superiority；　the　deeper　would　have　been　my　admiration—the　more　truly　tranquil　my　quiescence。　But　as　matters　really　stood；　to　watch　Miss　Ingram’s　efforts　at　fascinating　Mr。　Rochester；　to　witness　their　repeated　failure—herself　unconscious　that　they　did　fail；　vainly　fancying　that　each　shaft　launched　hit　the　mark；　and　infatuatedly　pluming　herself　on　success；　when　her　pride　and　self…placency　repelled　further　and　further　what　she　wished　to　allure—to　witness　this；　was　to　be　at　once　under　ceaseless　excitation　and　ruthless　restraint。
Because；　when　she　failed；　I　saw　how　she　might　have　succeeded。　Arrows　that　continually　glanced　off　from　Mr。　Rochester’s　breast　and　fell　harmless　at　his　feet；　might；　I　knew；　if　shot　by　a　surer　hand；　have　quivered　keen　in　his　proud　heart—have　called　love　into　his　stern　eye；　and　softness　into　his　sardonic　face；　or；　better　still；　without　ight　have　been　won。
“Why　can　she　not　influence　him　more；　when　she　is　privileged　to　draw　so　near　to　him？”　I　asked　myself。　“Surely　she　cannot　truly　like　him；　or　not　like　him　with　true　affection！　If　she　did；　she　need　not　coin　her　smiles　so　lavishly；　flash　her　glances　so　unremittingly；　manufacture　airs　so　elaborate；　graces　so　multitudinous。　It　seems　to　me　that　she　might；　by　merely　sitting　quietly　at　his　side；　saying　little　and　looking　less；　get　nigher　his　heart。　I　have　seen　in　his　face　a　far　different　expression　from　that　which　hardens　it　now　while　she　is　so　vivaciously　accosting　him；　but　then　it　came　of　itself：　it　was　not　elicited　by　meretricious　arts　and　calculated　manoeuvres；　and　one　had　but　to　accept　it—to　answer　what　he　asked　without　pretension；　to　address　him　when　needful　without　grimace—and　it　increased　and　grew　kinder　and　more　genial；　and　warmed　one　like　a　fostering　sunbeam。　How　will　she　manage　to　please　him　when　they　are　married？　I　do　not　think　she　will　manage　it；　and　yet　it　might　be　managed；　and　his　wife　might；　I　verily　believe；　be　the　very　happiest　woman　the　sun　shines　on。”
I　have　not　yet　said　anything　condemnatory　of　Mr。　Rochester’s　project　of　marrying　for　interest　and　connections。　It　surprised　me　when　I　first　discovered　that　such　was　his　intention：　I　had　thought　him　a　man　unlikely　to　be　influenced　by　motives　so　monplace　in　his　choice　of　a　wife；　but　the　longer　I　considered　the　position；　education；　&c。；　of　the　parties；　the　less　I　felt　justified　in　judging　and　blaming　either　him　or　Miss　Ingram　for　acting　in　conformity　to　ideas　and　principles　instilled　into　them；　doubtless；　from　their　childhood。　All　their　class　held　these　principles：　I　supposed；　then；　they　had　reasons　for　holding　them　such　as　I　could　not　fathom。　It　seemed　to　me　that；　were　I　a　gentleman　like　him；　I　would　take　to　my　bosom　only　such　a　wife　as　I　could　love；　but　the　very　obviousness　of　the　advantages　to　the　husband’s　own　happiness　offered　by　this　plan　convinced　me　that　there　must　be　arguments　against　its　general　adoption　of　which　I　was　quite　ignorant：　otherwise　I　felt　sure　all　the　world　would　act　as　I　wished　to　act。
But　in　other　points；　as　well　as　this；　I　was　growing　very　lenient　to　my　master：　I　was　forgetting　all　his　faults；　for　which　I　had　once　kept　a　sharp　look…out。　It　had　formerly　been　my　endeavour　to　study　all　sides　of　his　character：　to　take　the　bad　with　the　good；　and　from　the　just　weighing　of　both；　to　form　an　equitable　judgment。　Now　I　saw　no　bad。　The　sarcasm　that　had　repelled；　the　harshness　that　had　startled　me　once；　were　only　like　keen　condiments　in　a　choice　dish：　their　presence　was　pungent；　but　their　absence　would　be　felt　as　paratively　insipid。　And　as　for　the　vague　something—was　it　a　sinister　or　a　sorrowful；　a　designing　or　a　desponding　expression？—　that　opened　upon　a　careful　observer；　now　and　then；　in　his　eye；　and　closed　again　before　one　could　fathom　the　strange　depth　partially　disclosed；　that　something　which　used　to　make　me　fear　and　shrink；　as　if　I　had　been　wandering　amongst　volcanic…looking　hills；　and　had　suddenly　felt　the　ground　quiver　and　seen　it　gape：　that　something；　I；　at　intervals；　beheld　still；　and　with　throbbing　heart；　but　not　with　palsied　nerves。　Instead　of　wishing　to　shun；　I　longed　only　to　dare—to　divine　it；　and　I　thought　Miss　Ingram　happy；　because　one　day　she　might　look　into　the　abyss　at　her　leisure；　explore　its　secrets　and　analyse　their　nature。
Meantime；　while　I　thought　only　of　my　master　and　his　future　bride—　saw　only　them；　heard　only　their　discourse；　and　considered　only　their　movements　of　importance—the　rest　of　the　party　were　occupied　with　their　own　separate　interests　and　pleasures。　The　Ladies　Lynn　and　Ingram　continued　to　consort　in　solemn　conferences；　where　they　nodded　their　two　turbans　at　each　other；　and　held　up　their　four　hands　in　confronting　gestures　of　surprise；　or　mystery；　or　horror；　according　to　the　theme　on　which　their　gossip　ran；　like　a　pair　of　magnified　puppets。　Mild　Mrs。　Dent　talked　with　good…natured　Mrs。　Eshton；　and　the　two　sometimes　bestowed　a　courteous　word　or　smile　on　me。　Sir　George　Lynn；　Colonel　Dent；　and　Mr。　Eshton　discussed　politics；　or　county　affairs；　or　justice　business。　Lord　Ingram　flirted　with　Amy　Eshton；　Louisa　played　and　sang　to　and　with　one　of　the　Messrs。　Lynn；　and　Mary　Ingram　listened　languidly　to　the　gallant　speeches　of　the　other。　Sometimes　all；　as　with　one　consent；　suspended　their　by…play　to　observe　and　listen　to　the　principal　actors：　for；　after　all；　Mr。　Rochester　and—because　closely　connected　with　him—Miss　Ingram　were　the　life　and　soul　of　the　party。　If　he　was　absent　from　the　room　an　hour；　a　perceptible　dulness　seemed　to　steal　over　the　spirits　of　his　guests；　and　his　re…entrance　was　sure　to　give　a　fresh　impulse　to　the　vivacity　of　conversation。
The　want　of　his　animating　influence　appeared　to　be　peculiarly　felt　one　day　that　he　had　been　summoned　to　Millcote　on　business；　and　was　not　likely　to　return　till　late。　The　afternoon　was　wet：　a　walk　the　party　had　proposed　to　take　to　see　a　gipsy　camp；　lately　pitched　on　a　mon　beyond　Hay；　e　of　the　gentlemen　were　gone　to　the　stables：　the　younger　ones；　together　with　the　younger　ladies；　were　playing　billiards　in　the　billiard…room。　The　dowagers　Ingram　and　Lynn　sought　solace　in　a　quiet　game　at　cards。　Blanche　Ingram；　after　having　repelled；　by　supercilious　taciturnity；　some　efforts　of　Mrs。　Dent　and　Mrs。　Eshton　to　draw　her　into　conversation；　had　first　murmured　over　some　sentimental　tunes　and　airs　on　the　piano；　and　then；　having　fetched　a　novel　from　the　library；　had　flung　herself　in　haughty　listlessness　on　a　sofa；　and　prepared　to　beguile；　by　the　spell　of　fiction；　the　tedious　hours　of　absence。　The　room　and　the　house　were　silent：　only　now　and　then　the　merriment　of　the　billiard…players　was　heard　from　above。
It　was　verging　on　dusk；　and　the　clock　had　already　given　warning　of　the　hour　to　dress　for　dinner；　when　little　Adèle；　who　knelt　by　me　in　the　drawing…room　window…seat；　suddenly　exclaimed—
“Voile；　Monsieur　Rochester；　qui　revient！”
I　turned；　and　Miss　Ingram　darted　forwards　from　her　sofa：　the　others；　too；　looked　up　from　their　several　occupations；　for　at　the　same　time　a　crunching　of　wheels　and　a　splashing　tramp　of　horse…hoofs　became　audible　on　the　wet　gravel。　A　post…chaise　was　approaching。
“What　can　possess　him　to　e　home　in　that　style？”　said　Miss　Ingram。　“He　rode　Mesrour　（the　black　horse）；　did　he　not；　when　he　went　out？　and　Pilot　was　with　him：…　what　has　he　done　with　the　animals？”
As　she　said　this；　she　approached　her　tall　person　and　ample　garments　so　near　the　window；　that　I　was　obliged　to　bend　back　almost　to　the　breaking　of　my　spine：　in　her　eagerness　she　did　not　observe　me　at　first；　but　when　she　did；　she　curled　her　lip　and　moved　to　another　casement。　The　post…chaise　stopped；　the　driver　rang　the　door…bell；　and　a　gentleman　alighted　attired　in　travelling　garb；　but　it　was　not　Mr。　Rochester；　it　was　a　tall；　fashionable…looking　man；　a　stranger。
“How　provoking！”　exclaimed　Miss　Ingram：　“you　tiresome　monkey！”　（apostrophising　Adèle）；　“who　perched　you　up　in　the　window　to　give　false　intelligence？”　and　she　cast　on　me　an　angry　glance；　as　if　I　were　in　fault。
Some　parleying　was　audible　in　the　hall；　and　soon　the　new…er　entered。　He　bowed　to　Lady　Ingram；　as　deeming　her　the　eldest　lady　present。
“It　appears　I　e　at　an　inopportune　time；　madam；”　said　he；　“when　my　friend；　Mr。　Rochester；　is　from　home；　but　I　arrive　from　a　very　long　journey；　and　I　think　I　may　presume　so　far　on　old　and　intimate　acquaintance　as　to　instal　myself　here　till　he　returns。”
His　manner　was　polite；　his　accent；　in　speaking；　struck　me　as　being　somewhat　unusual；—not　precisely　foreign；　but　still　not　altogether　English：　his　age　might　be　about　Mr。　Rochester’s；—between　thirty　and　forty；　his　plexion　was　singularly　sallow：　otherwise　he　was　a　fine…looking　man；　at　first　sight　especially。　On　closer　examination；　you　detected　something　in　his　face　that　displeased；　or　rather　that　failed　to　please。　His　features　were　regular；　but　too　relaxed：　his　eye　was　large　and　well　cut；　but　the　life　looking　out　o