I felt better pleased than ever. The equality between her and me was real.
“And the little girl-my pupil?”
“She is Mr. Rochester's ward. He asked me to find a teacher for her. He wants her to be brought up here, in-shire.”
As I was thinking about this discovery, a little girl, followed by her nurse, came running up the lawn. My pupil was quite a child, perhaps seven or eight years old, with a pale, small-featured face, and curls to her waist.
“Good morning, Miss Adèle,” said Mrs. Fairfax. “Come and speak to the lady who is to teach you, and to make you a clever woman some day.”
“Bonjour,” said Adèle, and turned to her nurse, talking excitedly in French. She came and shook hand with me when she heard, that I was her governess.
“Are they foreigners?” I inquired, amazed at hearing the French language.
“The nurse is a foreigner, and Adèle was born in France. I believe, she had never left it till within six months ago. When she first came here, she could speak no English. She can shift between the languages now but I don't understand her, she mixes it so with French. But it will be no problem to you, won't it?”
Fortunately I had been taught French by a French lady, and I had talked with Madame Pierrot as often as I could. Now I could easily communicate with my pupil. When Adèle heard I could speak French, she replied briefly but then started to speak fluently and complimented my skills. “You speak my language as well as Mr. Rochester does: I can talk to you as I can to him, and so can Sophie. She will be glad: nobody here understands her: Madame Fairfax is all English,” she said.
I led her in to breakfast.
“Sophie is my nurse; she came with me over the sea in a great ship with a chimney that smoked-how it did smoke! – and I was sick, and so was Sophie, and so was Mr. Rochester,” the girl continued. Then she suddenly asked, “And what is your name, Mademoiselle?”
“Eyre-Jane Eyre.”
She repeated it with a French accent and got upset that she could not pronounce it correctly.
After breakfast, Adèle and I withdrew to the library, the room Mr. Rochester had ordered to be used as the schoolroom. There was a bookcase containing everything that could be needed in the way of elementary works, a piano, a pair of globes and an easel for painting.
Adèle was docile and eager to study but she was not accustomed to any kind of discipline. I felt it would be cruel to keep her all day the first time, and I allowed her to return to her nurse at noon.
I decided to draw some little sketches for her use and was on my way upstairs to fetch my pencils when Mrs. Fairfax called me, “Your school hours are over now, I suppose,” she said. “Would you like to see the house?”
I followed her into every room, gazing in wonder at the beautiful furniture, the rich deep carpets, and the grand empty bedrooms with their velvet drapes. Mrs. Fairfax dusted here and there as she showed me around.
“In what order you keep these rooms, Mrs. Fairfax!” I said. “Except that the air feels chilly, one would think they were inhabited daily.”
“Why, Miss Eyre, though Mr. Rochester's visits here are rare, they are always sudden and unexpected. So, I thought it would be best to keep the rooms in readiness.”
“What is Mr. Rochester like? Do you like him? Is he generally liked?” I asked
“Oh, yes; the family have always been respected here. And I have no cause to do otherwise than like him. He has always been just and noble. But he is rather peculiar, I suppose.”
“In what way is he peculiar?” I asked.
“I don't know-it is not easy to describe-nothing striking, but you feel it when he speaks to you; you cannot be always sure whether he is pleased or the contrary; you don't thoroughly understand him, in short-at least, I don't: but he is a very good master.”
We were already upstairs; now I followed her through a doorway and up a narrow staircase to the attic. We went along a gloomy passageway, then up a ladder and through a trapdoor onto the roof.
We were as high up as the rooks in the trees behind the house, and I could look right into their nests. Walking around the battlements, I saw the grounds laid out like a map, with the meadows, the village and the hills beyond all lying peacefully in the warm autumn sun.
By now it was almost time for lunch. While Mrs. Fairfax stayed to fasten the trapdoor, I climbed down the ladder. My eyes had grown used to the bright sunshine, and now the attic passageway seemed pitch-black. I had to feel my way along the walls in the silence.
As I was nearing the top of the attic stairs, I heard a very strange sound. It was a kind of laugh, but not a happy one. It sounded loud, hollow and inhuman-almost like a bark. If I had been alone, and if it hadn't been the middle of the day, I would have feared it was a ghost. I hurried down the staircase and through the door into the upstairs hallway.
“Mrs. Fairfax,” I called. She emerged a few moments later.
“Did you hear that loud laugh? Who is it?” I asked.
“Some of the servants, very likely,” she answered: “perhaps Grace Poole. I often hear her: she sews in one of these rooms.”
The laugh was repeated in a low tone and ended with a murmur.
“Grace!” exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax.
I really did not expect any Grace to answer; but the door nearest me opened, and a servant came out, – a woman of between thirty and forty; a red-haired figure with a hard, plain face. If she were an apparition, there were no apparition less ghostly.
“Too much noise, Grace,” said Mrs. Fairfax.
As we went on, my companion asked me about Adèle, and the conversation about the girl continued till we reached the light and cheerful region downstairs.
Adèle met us there, and we found dinner ready, and waiting for us in Mrs. Fairfax's room.
Chapter 13
The promise of a smooth career was coming true. Never before had I been granted such a pleasant existence[22]. Mrs. Fairfax turned out to be what she appeared, a calm woman of average intelligence. My pupil was a lively child, spoilt but teachable and obedient. She made progress, and her efforts to please me inspired me, thus, we were both content in each other's society.
Yet now and then, when I was left alone and took a walk by myself in the grounds or climbed up to the attic to admire the view, I longed for the busy world, towns, regions full of life. I desired more of practical experience than I possessed and more people around me to talk to. Then my only relief was to walk along the corridor of the third storey, backwards and forwards, safe in the silence and solitude, and to open my inward ear to a tale that was never ended-a tale my imagination created, a tale full of incident, life, fire, feeling, that I desired and had not in my actual life.
When I was near the attic, I often heard Grace Poole's laugh-the same low, slow ha! ha! which was followed by her eccentric murmurs.
October, November and December passed away. One afternoon in January, Mrs. Fairfax asked for a holiday for Adèle, because she had a cold, and I agreed.
It was a fine, calm day, though very cold. I was tired of sitting still in the library through a whole long morning and, as Mrs. Fairfax had just written a letter, I volunteered to carry it to Hay and post it. The distance of two miles could become a pleasant winter afternoon walk.
I walked fast till I got warm. Then I walked slowly, and after a mile or so I stopped to rest. A sheet of ice lay across the track where a stream had run over it and frozen solid. From where I was, I could see Thornfield, with its dark battlements and woods. Looking the other way, I saw chimney smoke rising from the houses at the top of the hill. Behind them, the moon was rising. I stayed there in absolute peace, listening to the faint sound of the rivers in the valley.
Just as I was about to set off again, I heard the metallic clatter of horses' hooves approaching. I couldn't see anything, as the lane was narrow and winding, but someone was certainly coming. I stood back to let them pass.
When the noise was close, but there was still no one in sight, I was startled to see a huge dog sniffing right next to me. It was brown and white, with a long coat, and such a large, hairy head that it reminded me of a lion. I shrank back, but the dog ran past without even looking at me. Almost at once the rider galloped past too-a man on a tall, sturdy horse-and I continued my journey.
Then I heard a scraping sound, and the man cursing. I turned back to see that both horse and rider were on the ground: they had slipped on the ice I had been looking at[23]. The dog sniffed around them, then came up to me, barking. I followed him back down the track.
“Are you injured, sir?” I asked. “Can I do anything?”
“You must just stand on one side,” he answered as he rose, first to his knees, and then to his feet. Then he helped the horse. Meanwhile, the dog was barking and leaping around, and was at last silenced with a 'Down, Pilot!'.
Luckily, the horse was unharmed. But the rider felt his foot and leg and limped.
“If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch someone either from Thornfield Hall or from Hay.”
“Thank you, but I have no broken bones, – only a sprain,” he said. As he stood up and tried his foot, he gave an involuntary 'Ugh!'
The sun had not set yet, and I could see him clearly. His figure was enveloped in a riding cloak, but I traced middle height and a considerable breadth of chest. He had a dark face, with stern features, he was past youth. I concluded he was about thirty-five. I felt no fear of him, probably just little shyness. He was not a handsome, heroic-looking young gentleman, he had not smiled and been good-humoured to me. If he had, I would have long been gone. But now when he waved to me to go, I announced, “I cannot think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour 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,” he said. “If you have a home in this neighbourhood, where do you come from?'”
“From just below. And I will run over to Hay for you with pleasure, if you wish it. Indeed, I am going there to post a letter.”
“You live just below-do you mean at that house?” he pointed to Thornfield Hall.
“Yes, sir.”
“Whose house is it?”
“Mr. Rochester's.”
“Do you know Mr. Rochester?”
“No, I have never seen him.”
“Can you tell me where he is?”
“I cannot.”
“You are not a servant at the hall, of course. You are-“
He stopped, looked at my plain dress, puzzled to decide what I was. I helped him.
“I am the governess.”
“Ah, the governess!”
In two minutes he rose, and his face expressed pain when he tried to move.
“I will not ask you to fetch help, but you may help me a little yourself, if you are so kind.”
I went over to him, and he leaned on my shoulder. With much grimacing, we reached his horse, and he hauled himself into the saddle. “Thank you; now hurry with the letter to Hay, and return as fast as you can.'” He spurred the horse on, the dog followed, and they all disappeared.
I went on my way to Hay. The incident was over-there was no need to think about it. Yet as I walked into the village, as I posted the letters, as I tramped down the hill in the dark, I couldn't help thinking about the man. His face hung in the air before me, so stern and strong, unlike the face of anyone else I knew. When I was on my way back, I stopped and wondered for a moment if I might meet him again. I could see yellow light shining from the windows of Thornfield Hall, reminding me that I was late, and I hurried on.
When I got in, the hallway was dark, but there was a warm glow coming from the dining room, as the door was half-open. I heard voices inside, including Adèle's, as I walked past. I went into Mrs. Fairfax's little office. There was a fire burning in the grate, but Mrs. Fairfax was not there. Instead, I was amazed to see a large, hairy dog sitting on the hearth rug, exactly like the one I had seen a few hours before. It was so similar that I called out “Pilot!”, and the thing got up and came to me and snuffed me. I caressed him, and he wagged his great tail.
I rang the bell, for I wanted a candle, and I wanted, too, to ask Leah a few questions about the dog.
“What dog is this?”
“He came with master.”
“With whom?”
“With master-Mr. Rochester-he is just arrived.”
“Oh! and is Mrs. Fairfax with him?”
“Yes, and Miss Adèle. They are in the dining-room. But the master has had an accident. His horse fell and his ankle is sprained.”
“Did the horse fall on the road to Hay?”
“Yes, it slipped on some ice.”
“Ah! Bring me a candle, will you Leah?”
Leah brought it. When she returned, Mrs. Fairfax entered the room with her and repeated the news. The surgeon had arrived and was now with Mr. Rochester. Then she hurried out to give orders about tea, and I went upstairs to take off my things.
Chapter 14
Mr. Rochester, it seems, by the surgeon's orders, went to bed early that night. Did he rise soon next morning. Adèle and I had now to vacate the library. Mr. Rochester needed it as a reception-room for visitors.
Adèle was not easy to teach that day. The doorbell rang constantly all day as various visitors arrived. My pupil kept running to the top of the bannisters to see if she could get a glimpse of Mr. Rochester. She invented pretexts to go downstairs in order to visit the library, where she was not wanted. Even when I got a little angry and made her sit still, she continued to talk of her dear friend Mr. Rochester and the presents he must have brought for her. “And yesterday he asked me a lot about you, Mademoiselle,” she added in French: “He must have a present for you, too.”
At dark I allowed Adele to put away books and work, and to run downstairs. It had been silent there and I thought that Mr. Rochester was no longer busy.
Mrs. Fairfax came in. “Mr. Rochester would like you and your pupil to take tea with him in the drawing-room this evening,” she said: “he has been so busy all day that he could not ask to see you before.”
“When does he expect us?”
“Oh, at six o'clock. You had better change your frock now.”
“Is it necessary to change my frock?”
“Yes, you had better: I always dress for the evening when Mr. Rochester is here.”
She came with me to my room and helped me to put on my black silk dress.
“You want a brooch,” said Mrs. Fairfax. I had a little pearl ornament, which Miss Temple gave me as a parting keepsake. I put it on, and then we went downstairs.
Mr. Rochester was resting on a sofa, with his bad foot raised up on a cushion, while Adèle played with Pilot by the fire.
“Here is Miss Eyre, sir,” said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way. He bowed, still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog and child. While Mrs. Fairfax fetched the tea, I sat down, feeling just as I had before-that his lack of courtesy made things easier for me. It meant that I felt no obligation to be polite.
“Did you bring Miss Eyre a present?” Adèle asked suddenly, running over to Mr. Rochester.
Mr. Rochester raised his eyebrows, and turned to me. “Did you expect a present, Miss Eyre? Are you fond of presents?” he asked searching my face with eyes that I saw were dark and piercing.
“I hardly know, sir. I have little experience of them. They are generally thought pleasant things.”
“But what do YOU think?”
“A present has many faces to it, has it not? and one should consider all, before pronouncing an opinion.”
“Miss Eyre, you are not so unsophisticated as Adèle. The moment she sees me, she demands presents.”
“I have less confidence in my deserts than Adèle has. If I had to make out a case I should be puzzled, since I am a stranger and have done nothing worth of acknowledgement.”
“That's not true at all,” he replied. “I can see what good work you have done with Adèle. She is not bright, she has no talents; yet in a short time she has made much progress.”
“Sir, you have now given me my present, as this praise is the best present you could ever give a teacher,” I said.