Henry Brocken

e, that thought

truth, and fa

N DO

gate or to ride on, it began to open, and a great particoloured dog looked out on us. There was certainly something unusual in the aspect of this animal, for though he lifted on us grave and sagacious eyes, he scarcely seemed to see us, man

"Pilot, sir, come here, Pilot." Semi-dog or no, he knew his master. Whereupon, tying up my deject

supposed. So I went forward by a clearer path, and when I had advanced a few

stranger so unceremoniously, but stood her ground l

new not into what country nor company fate had beguiled me, except that the one was beautiful, and the other in some delightful

letely still and so completely engrossed in listening. And when I had finished, she looked aside with a transient, half-

he woods, lest-I should penetrate too far. But you are tired and hungry. Will you please walk on a few steps till you come to a stone s

g, like an owl at noon, beneath its green covert. In a few minutes the great dog with dripping jow

red dimly at me, leaning heavily on Jane's arm, his left hand plunged into the bosom of h

entleman, Jane

s,

ung!" he

e would not be h

e bolted, th

scale his garden wall," Jane said, turning sharply on me. "Sha

a mere dark satellite. I am dim; and suspicious of strangers, as this one treacherous eye should

en, sir-Henry Bro

e come, unless you are a modern Ganymede. Where then's your aquiline steed, s

ous means went, my old horse was probably by this time fast asleep beside the green gate at which I had ente

less in the yellow evening light. There was no sound of wind or water, no sound of vo

hic finding. Not for mine, sir, I vow. Depart again in the morning, if you will: we shall neither of us be displeased by then to say farewell, I dare say. I do not seek company. My obscure shell is enough." I rose. "Sit down-sit down again, my d

by; and with his first note Jane reappeared. And while we listened, unstirring, to that rich, undaunted voice,

with eyes that seemed to hide in fleeting cloud a flame as pure as amber? The arch simplicity of her gown, her small, narrow hands, the exquisite cleverness of mouth and chin, the lovely courage and

blew cold upon our faces. Jane took Mr. R

asleep, poor fellow, as you surmised; and, I think, dreaming; for when I proffered him a lump of sugar, he thr

ocken, on darker nights as still as this, and have heard what seemed to be the sea breaking, far away, leagues upon leagues beyond the forests-the gush forward, the

Mr. Rochester incredulously

heard, but a trickling tide one icy tap

s afloat with listeners; so it seems, so it see

s to me like the supper of a child, taken at peace in t

perpetually clamorous with torrents. All that Mr. Rochester said, every gesture, these were but the ghosts of words and movements. Behind them, gloomy, imperturbable, withdrawn,

ith me, and filled his glass till it b

hands!" she cried

answered; "but

ve us," she enquired of me. "Is there anywher

least is steadfast in change. So long as it does n

ed; "that is a puissant bat

"The candles irk me, Jane. I would like to

ttle piano and desired me to sit beside her. And while she played, I know not what, but

r mad thing you thought Jane Eyre?"

s, not even her thoughts, not even

ing her eyes over the keys and smiling darkly.

id, "Jane Ey

d brightly. "But then, was I not detestable too

n," I answere

died out, and the lower voices

rrier," I

ier?" s

, and flummery, and coldness, and pride, an

You are a perspicacious observer, Mr. Brocken; and to be that is to be alive in a world of the moribund. But then too how high one must soar

"you have taken yo

im as the moon the sun, never weary of gazing. I borrow his radiance to observe him by. But I weary you with my garrulous tongue.... Have you no plan at all in your journey? 'Tis not the dangers, but to me the endless restle

e sorcery that lured me hither may carry me as light

th that stealthy gravity that

sp-honey when it is so bitter that it blisters the lips." She talked on gaily, as if she had forgotten I was but a stranger until now. Yet none the less sh

and fear, and love, and its loss-its loss; then turn and say: this, this only, this duller heart, these duller eyes, this contumacious spirit is all that is

n the dark clearness of the sky. Mr. Rochester stood motionless, Napoleon-wise, bene

my heart

le use

opes and doub

quie

my heart

th is dim

ope perplex'

till

s are li

could I

in each w

ids me

ad and argue quite so clearly and with such nimble insistency-neither of bird, nor child, nor bro

the room. I sat down, my face towards the still candles, as one who is awake, yet dreams on. The faint scent of the earth through the open window; the heavy, s

hester beneath the trees. They entered the house, and once more Jane drew the bolts against that phantom fear. A tinge of scarlet stood in

n on the sprigged and portly toilet table, and I laboured till the constellations had changed beyon

ow not what light minions of the moon. The Great Bear wheeled faintly clear in the dark zenith, but the borders of the east were grey as g

ast with us in a gloomy old dressing-room, moody and taciturn, unpacified by sleep.

y the steep valley at her feet. And I rode on. The gate was sh

what at first I deemed a coloured figment of the mist that festooned the branches and clung along the turf. But when I drew near I saw it was indeed a child, pink and gold and p

ly since I had of my own co