Джэйн Эйр

Chapter XXXV

           Imighthavesaid,"Whereisit?"foritdidnotseemintheroom—norinthehouse—norinthegarden;itdidnotcomeoutoftheair—norfromundertheearth—norfromoverhead. Ihadheardit—where,orwhence,foreverimpossibletoknow! Anditwasthevoiceofahumanbeing—aknown,loved,well-rememberedvoice—thatofEdwardFairfaxRochester;anditspokeinpainandwoe,wildly,eerily,urgently. 

           "Iamcoming!"Icried."Waitforme!Oh,Iwillcome!"Iflewtothedoorandlookedintothepassage:itwasdark. Iranoutintothegarden:itwasvoid. 

           "Whereareyou?"Iexclaimed. 

           ThehillsbeyondMarshGlensenttheanswerfaintlyback—"Whereareyou?"Ilistened. Thewindsighedlowinthefirs:allwasmoorlandlonelinessandmidnighthush. 

           "Downsuperstition!"Icommented,asthatspectreroseupblackbytheblackyewatthegate. "Thisisnotthydeception,northywitchcraft:itistheworkofnature.Shewasroused,anddid—nomiracle—butherbest." 

           IbrokefromSt.John,whohadfollowed,andwouldhavedetainedme.Itwasmytimetoassumeascendency. Mypowerswereinplayandinforce.Itoldhimtoforbearquestionorremark;Idesiredhimtoleaveme:Imustandwouldbealone. Heobeyedatonce.Wherethereisenergytocommandwellenough,obedienceneverfails. Imountedtomychamber;lockedmyselfin;fellonmyknees;andprayedinmyway—adifferentwaytoSt.John’s,buteffectiveinitsownfashion. 

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