Jane Eyre - Page 400/412

"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."