nothing about it. I will account for this state of affairs’ (pointing to the bed): ‘and now return to your own room. I shall do very well on the sofa in the library for the rest of the night. It is near four: – in two hours the servants will be up.’
‘Good-night, then, sir,’ said I, departing.
He seemed surprised – very inconsistently so, as he had just told me to go.
‘What!’ he exclaimed, ‘are you quitting me already, and in that way?’
‘You said I might go, sir.’
‘But not without taking leave; not without a word or two of acknowledgment and good-will: not, in short, in that brief, dry fashion. Why, you have saved my life! – snatched me from a horrible and excruciating death! and you walk past me as if we were mutual strangers! At least shake hands.’
He held out his hand; I gave him mine: he took it first in one, then in both his own.
‘You have saved my life: I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a debt. I cannot say more. Nothing else that has being would have been tolerable to me in the character of creditor for such an obligation: but you: it is different – I feel your benefit no burden, Jane.’
He paused; gazed at me: words almost visible trembled on his lips – but his voice was checked.
‘Good-night again, sir. There is no debt, benefit, burden, obligation, in the case.’
‘I knew,’ he continued, ‘you would do me good in some way, at some time; – I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not’ – (again he stopped) – ‘did not’ (he proceeded hastily) ‘strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing. People talk of natural sympathies; I have heard of good genii: there are grains of truth in the wildest fable. My cherished preserver, good-night!’
Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.
‘I am glad I happened to be awake,’ I said: and then I was going.
‘What! you will go?’
‘I am cold, sir.’
‘Cold? Yes – and standing in a pool! Go, then, Jane; go!’ But he still retained my hand, and I could not free it. I bethought myself of an expedient.
‘I think I hear Mrs Fairfax move, sir,’ said I.
‘Well, leave me:’ he relaxed his fingers, and I was gone.
I regained my couch, but never thought of sleep. Till morning dawned I was tossed on a buoyant but unquiet sea, where billows of trouble rolled under surges of joy. I thought sometimes I saw beyond its wild waters a shore, sweet as the hills of Beulah;19 and now and then a freshening gale, wakened by hope, bore my spirit triumphantly towards the bourne: but I could not reach it, even in fancy – a counteracting breeze blew off land, and continually drove me back. Sense would resist delirium: judgment would warn passion. Too feverish to rest, I rose as soon as day dawned.
CHAPTER XVI
I both wished and feared to see Mr Rochester on the day which followed this sleepless night: I wanted to hear his voice again, yet feared to meet his eye. During the early part of the morning I momentarily expected his coming; he was not in the frequent habit of entering the schoolroom, but he did step in for a few minutes sometimes, and I had the impression that he was sure to visit it that day.
But the morning passed just as usual: nothing happened to interrupt the quiet course of Adèle’s studies; only, soon after breakfast, I heard some bustle in the neighbourhood of Mr Rochester’s chamber, Mrs Fairfax’s voice, and Leah’s, and the cook’s – that is, John’s wife – and even John’s own gruff tones. There were exclamations of ‘What a mercy master was not burnt in his bed!’ ‘It is always dangerous to keep a candle lit at night.’ ‘How providential that he had presence of mind to think of the water-jug!’ ‘I wonder he waked nobody!’ ‘It is to be hoped he will not take cold with sleeping on the library sofa,’ etc.
To much confabulation succeeded a sound of scrubbing and setting to rights; and when I passed the room, in going downstairs to dinner, I saw through the open door that all was again restored to complete order; only the bed was stripped of its hangings. Leah stood up in the window-seat, rubbing the panes of glass dimmed with smoke. I was about to address her, for I