Jane Eyre - Page 102/412

I was in the mood for being useful, or at least officious, I think,

for I now drew near him again.

"If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch some one either

from Thornfield Hall or from Hay."

"Thank you: I shall do: I have no broken bones,--only a sprain;"

and again he stood up and tried his foot, but the result extorted an

involuntary "Ugh!"

Something of daylight still lingered, and the moon was waxing

bright: I could see him plainly. His figure was enveloped in a

riding cloak, fur collared and steel clasped; its details were not

apparent, but I traced the general points of middle height and

considerable breadth of chest. He had a dark face, with stern

features and a heavy brow; his eyes and gathered eyebrows looked

ireful and thwarted just now; he was past youth, but had not reached

middle-age; perhaps he might be thirty-five. I felt no fear of him,

and but little shyness. Had he been a handsome, heroic-looking

young gentleman, I should not have dared to stand thus questioning

him against his will, and offering my services unasked. I had

hardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one.

I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance,

gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in

masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they neither

had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should have

shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything else that is

bright but antipathetic.

If even this stranger had smiled and been good-humoured to me when I

addressed him; if he had put off my offer of assistance gaily and

with thanks, I should have gone on my way and not felt any vocation

to renew inquiries: but the frown, the roughness of the traveller,

set me at my ease: I retained my station when he waved to me to go,

and announced "I cannot think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour, in this

solitary lane, till I see you are fit to mount your horse."

He looked at me when I said this; he had hardly turned his eyes in

my direction before.

"I should think you ought to be at home yourself," said he, "if you

have a home in this neighbourhood: where do you come from?"

"From just below; and I am not at all afraid of being out late when

it is moonlight: I will run over to Hay for you with pleasure, if

you wish it: indeed, I am going there to post a letter."