Jane Eyre - Page 368/412

I looked towards the knoll: there he lay, still as a prostrate

column; his face turned to me: his eye beaming watchful and keen.

He started to his feet and approached me.

"I am ready to go to India, if I may go free."

"Your answer requires a commentary," he said; "it is not clear."

"You have hitherto been my adopted brother--I, your adopted sister:

let us continue as such: you and I had better not marry."

He shook his head. "Adopted fraternity will not do in this case.

If you were my real sister it would be different: I should take

you, and seek no wife. But as it is, either our union must be

consecrated and sealed by marriage, or it cannot exist: practical

obstacles oppose themselves to any other plan. Do you not see it,

Jane? Consider a moment--your strong sense will guide you."

I did consider; and still my sense, such as it was, directed me only

to the fact that we did not love each other as man and wife should:

and therefore it inferred we ought not to marry. I said so. "St.

John," I returned, "I regard you as a brother--you, me as a sister:

so let us continue."

"We cannot--we cannot," he answered, with short, sharp

determination: "it would not do. You have said you will go with me

to India: remember--you have said that."

"Conditionally."

"Well--well. To the main point--the departure with me from England,

the co-operation with me in my future labours--you do not object.

You have already as good as put your hand to the plough: you are

too consistent to withdraw it. You have but one end to keep in

view--how the work you have undertaken can best be done. Simplify

your complicated interests, feelings, thoughts, wishes, aims; merge

all considerations in one purpose: that of fulfilling with effect--

with power--the mission of your great Master. To do so, you must

have a coadjutor: not a brother--that is a loose tie--but a

husband. I, too, do not want a sister: a sister might any day be

taken from me. I want a wife: the sole helpmeet I can influence

efficiently in life, and retain absolutely till death."

I shuddered as he spoke: I felt his influence in my marrow--his

hold on my limbs.

"Seek one elsewhere than in me, St. John: seek one fitted to you."

"One fitted to my purpose, you mean--fitted to my vocation. Again I

tell you it is not the insignificant private individual--the mere

man, with the man's selfish senses--I wish to mate: it is the

missionary."