7 Thornfield and Mr Rochester 
　  
　　Thornfield Hall was a large gentleman's house in the country， near a town called Millcote．There，after my sixteen－hour journed，I was welcomed by Mrs Fairfax She was a little old lady，dressed in black，who seemed glad to have someone else to talk to，apart from the servants Although the house was dark and frightening，with its big rooms full of heavy furniture，I was excited at being in a new place，and looked forward to my new life there， working for kind Mrs Fairfax． 
　　But I was surprised to discover on my first full day at Thornfield that Mrs Fairfax was not in fact the owner，as I had assumed，but the housekeeper，and that my new master was a Mr Rochester，who was often away from home． My pupil was a girl called Adeèe，seven or eight years old， who was born in France and could hardly speak English． Luckily I had learnt French very well at Lowtood，and had no difficulty in communicating with young Adèle，a pretty，cheerful child．It appeared that Mr Rochester，who had known Adèle and her mother very well，had brought Adèle back to England to live with him after her mother had died．I taught her for several hours every day in the library，although it was not easy to make her concentrate on anything for long，as she was clearly not used to the discipline of lessons． 
　　One day I took the opportunity of asking Mrs Fairfax a few questions about Mr Rochester，as I was curious about him，and the little housekeeper seemed happy to talk． 
　　'Is he liked by most people？'was my first question． 
　　'Oh yes，his family have always been respected here．They've owned the land round here for years，'she replied． 
　　'But do you like him？What is his character like？' 
　　'I have always liked him， and I think he's a fair master to his servants．He's a little peculiar，perhaps．He's travelled a lot，you know．I expect he's clever，but I can't tell，really．' 
　　'What do you mean，peculiar？'I asked，interested． 
　　'It's not easy to describe． You're never sure whether he's serious or joking．You don't really understand him，at least I don't．But that doesn't matter，he's a very good master．' 
　　I could get no further information from Mrs Fairfax about Mr Rochester，but instead she offered to show me round the whole house．We went through many large，impressive rooms，finally reaching the top floor，where there was a narrow corridor with several small black doors，all shut．I stopped to look at them， and thought for a moment they looked like prison doors，hiding evil secrets．No sooner had I turned away to go downstairs than I heard a strange，ghostly laugh． 
　　'Mrs Fairfax！'I called out，as the housekeeper was already on her way downstairs．'Did you hear that laugh？ Who is it？' 
　　'It may be Grace Poole，'she answered calmly．'She is paid to help the housemaid in her work，and always sews in one of those rooms．'I heard the laugh again．It did not sound human to me． 
　　'Grace！'called Mrs Fairfax．I did not expect anyone to answer，but in fact a door opened and a middle－aged woman appeared．She looked too plain and sensible to be a ghost． 
　　'Too much noise，Grace，'said Mrs Fairfax．'Remember your instructions！'Grace nodded and went back into the roon． 
　　Several times in the next few months I went up to the top floor again，where I could look out of the high windows in the roof to see the surrounding countryside and be alone with my thoughts．I was very happy teaching pretty little Adèle in the daytime，and talking to kind old Mrs Fairfax in the evening，but I felt that something was missing from my life．I had dreams of a greater and better life，and above all，I wanted to do more．People are not always satisfied with a quiet life， and women as well as men need action． 
　　While on the top floor I often heard Grace Poole's strange laugh，and sometimes I saw her too．She used to go silently in and out of the room with a plate of food or a glass of beer． 
　　One day in January I had a free afternoon， as Adèle wsa ill，so I decided to walk to Hay，a village two miles away，to post a letter for the housekeeper．It was a bright，frosty day，and I was enjoying the fresh air and the exercise．Stopping on the lonely road，I watched the sun go down in the trees behind Thornfield，and then in the silence I heard a horse approaching．Suddenly there was a crash as the horse slipped and fell on the ice，bringing down its rider．I ran to see if I could help the traveller，who was swearing furiously as he pulled himself free of his horse． 
　　'Are you hurt，sir？ Can I do anything？'I asked． 
　　'Just stand back，'he growled，as he lifted himself painfully to his feet．Obviously his leg hurt him，and he sat down quickly． 
　　'If you need help，sir，I can fetch someone either from Thornfield Hall or from Hay，' I offered． 
　　'Thank you， but I don't need anyone．I haven't broken any bones，'he replied crossly．I could see him clearly in the moonlight．He was of medium height，with wide shoulders and a strong chest．He had a dark face，with angry－looking eyes，and was about thirty－five．If he had been a young，attractive gentleman，I would have been too shy to offer help，but as he was not handsome，and even quite rough，I felt I wanted to help him． 
　　'I can't leave you，sir，so late on this lonely road，till I see you are fit enough to get on your horse，'I insisted． 
　　He looked at me for the first time when I said this． 
　　'I think you ought to be at home yourself，'he answered． 
　　'Do you live near here？' 
　　'In that house over therd，'I said，'and I'm not at all afraid of being out at night．I'm just going to Hay to post a letter，and I'll be happy to take a message for you．' 
　　'You live in…in that house？'he asked，surprised，pointing to Thornfield Hall，which was lit up in the moonlight． 
　　'Yes，sir，'I replied． 
　　'Whose house is it？'he asked． 
　　'Mr Rochester's．' 
　　'Do you know Mr Rochester？'was his next question． 
　　'No， I've never seen him，'I answered． 
　　'You aren't a servant at Thornfield Hall，of course．You must be…'he hesitated，looking at my plain black dress．He seemed puzzled to know who I was， so I helped him． 
　　'I am the governess．' 
　　'Ah，the governess！I had forgptten！'He tried to get up but his leg was still hurting him badly．'I don't want you to fetch help，but you could help me yourself，if you like．' 
　　'Of course，sir，'I said．And so he leaned his weight on my shoulder and I helped him wald to his horse．In a moment he had jumped on to the horse's back． 
　　'Thank you，now take your letter to Hay，then hurry home！'he called as he rode off into the distance． 
　　I walked on，glad to have helped someone，to have done something active for once．In my mind I saw that dark，strong face，and I still felt excited by our meeting．Even when I arrived back at Thornfield，I did not go in for a while．I did not want to go into the dark house，where I would spend the evening quietly with old Mrs Fairfax．So I stayed outside，staring up at the moon and the stars with a beating heart，wishing and dreaming of a different， more exciting life． 
When I entered，the servants told me that Mr Rochester had arrived，and that he had hurt his leg when his horse slipped on ice on the road to Hay．  
第三部 特恩费得的家庭教师 
　 
7 特恩费得和罗切斯特先生 
　  
　　特恩费得府是乡间一幢绅士住的大房子，在小镇米尔考特附近。经过16个小时的旅途，我受到费尔法斯太太的迎接。她是个小老太太，身穿黑衣，似乎很喜欢除了仆人外能有个人聊聊天。房子阴暗吓人，大大的房间里满是沉重的家具。尽管如此，我还是为来到一个新地方感到激动，期待着新生活的开始，期待着为善良的费尔法斯太太工作。 
　　但是，在特恩费得的第一天，我惊讶地发现费尔法斯太太并不像我认为的那样是这里的主人，而是管家。我的新主人是罗切斯特先生，他经常不在家。我的学生是个叫阿黛拉的女孩，七八岁的样子，出生在法国，几乎不会讲英语。幸好我在洛伍德法文学得不错，可以毫不困难地和阿黛拉这个漂亮、快活的孩子进行交流。罗切斯特先生似乎是阿黛拉和她母亲的熟人，她母亲死后他把她接到英国一起生活。每天，我在书房给她上几小时课，我很难让她长时间集中精神做任何事情，因为她显然不习惯上课的纪律。 
　　一天，我找机会向费尔法斯太太询问罗切斯特先生的情况，因为我很好奇。管家似乎很乐意谈。 
　　“大家都喜欢他吗？”这是我的第一个问题。 
　　“噢，是的。他家在这一带很有威望，他们拥有这周围的土地已经许多年了。”她答道。 
　　“你喜欢他吗？他性格怎么样？” 
　　“我一直都喜欢他，而且我觉得他对仆人来说是个公平的主人。也许，他有点怪，要知道他经常旅行在外。我想他脑子聪明，但真的说不准。” 
　　“你是什么意思，有点怪？”我感兴趣地问。 
　　“很难形容。你总摸不透他是认真的还是开玩笑。你不能真正了解他，至少我做不到。不过这没关系，他是个好主人。” 
　　从费尔法斯太太那儿，我对罗切斯特先生再了解不到什么了，可她主动提出带我参观整幢房子。我们走过许多令人惊叹的大房间，最后来到顶层。那儿有一条狭窄的走廊，几扇小黑门都紧闭着。我停下来看，觉得有点像监狱的门，后面隐藏着罪恶的秘密。我刚转身下楼，就听到了奇怪的鬼一样的笑声。 
　　“费尔法斯太太！”我叫出了声，管家正往楼下走。“你听到笑声了吗？那是谁？” 
　　“可能是格丽丝·普尔。”她平静地回答。“她是雇来给女佣做帮工的，总是在其中一间屋里做针线。”我又听见了笑声，我觉得那简直不像人的声音。 
　　“格丽丝！”费尔法斯太太叫道。我以为不会有人答话，但是门开了，出现了一位中年妇女。她看上去普通、清醒，不可能是个鬼。 
　　“格丽丝，太吵了。”费尔法斯太太说。“记住给你的指示。”格丽丝点点头，回到屋里。 
　　以后的几个月里，我又几次到过顶层。我从房顶的高大窗户眺望周围的乡村，独自遐想着。我白天教漂亮的小阿黛拉，晚上和费尔法斯老太太聊天，很是快活，但我总觉得生活中缺少点什么。我梦想着更不平凡、更美好的生活，最重要的是我想做更多的事情。人们不会总是满足于平静的生活，无论男女都需要行动。 
　　在顶层时，我常常听到格丽丝·普尔的怪笑，有时也能见到她。她经常端着一盘食物或一杯啤酒，静悄悄地进出房间。 
　　1月的一天，因为阿黛拉生病了，我整个下午空闲着，就决定步行到两英里外的村子海依去给管家寄封信。天气晴朗，有些雾气，我喜欢这新鲜空气和户外活动。我在孤寂的路上停下脚步，凝视着太阳在树枝间沉到了特恩费得背后，然后，我听到寂静中传来了渐近的马蹄声。突然一声巨响，马打滑摔倒在冰上，把骑马人也带了下来。我跑过去，看是否能帮旅行的人什么忙。他正一面挣脱马鞍，一面狂怒地咒骂着。 
　　“你受伤了吗，先生？我能帮忙吗？”我问。 
　　“站后面点儿。”他吼道，并艰难地站了起来。显然，他的脚受了伤，他赶紧又坐下来。 
　　“先生，如果需要帮助，我可以到特恩费得或海依去叫人来。”我建议着。 
　　“谢谢，不过我不需要任何人，我骨头又没断。”他不高兴地答道。月光下，我可以清楚地看到他。他中等身材，肩膀宽阔，有着结实的胸膛。他脸色黑黑的，有着一双呈怒视状的眼睛，大约35岁的样子。如果他是个有魅力的年轻绅士，我会不好意思主动帮忙的，但是他并不英俊，甚至相当粗鲁，我觉得我想帮助他。 
　　“先生，我不能离开，让你孤零零这么晚待在路上，除非我看到你还能骑上马去。”我坚持着。 
　　我说这话时，他第一次看了看我。 
　　“我觉得你自己就该待在家里。”他说。“你住在这儿吗？” 
　　“住在那边的房子里。”我说。“我一点儿也不怕晚上外出，我正要去海依寄信，我能帮您带个口信吗？” 
　　“你住在那……那幢房子里？”他指着月光下已亮起灯火的特恩费得府，吃惊地问。 
　　“是的，先生。”我答道。 
　　“是谁的房子？”他问。 
　　“罗切斯特先生的。” 
　　“你认得罗切斯特先生吗？”他又问。 
　　“不，我从没见过他。”我回答说。 
　　“你当然不是特恩费得的仆人。你一定是……”他看着我朴素的黑衣服犹豫不决，似乎搞不清我是谁，于是我就帮了他一个忙。 
　　“我是家庭教师。” 
　　“噢，家庭教师！我忘了！”他试图站起来，但腿仍然疼得厉害。“我不想让你找人帮忙，但如果你愿意，你自己就能帮我。” 
　　“当然愿意，先生。”我说。于是他把全身的重量都压到我的肩膀上，我扶他走到马边。不一会儿，他就跳上了马背。 
　　“谢谢你。现在去海依发信，然后赶快回家。”他说着，骑马消失在远方。 
　　我接着走，心里因帮助了别人并第一次主动做了点事情而感到高兴。我脑中又现出那张黑黑的、坚强的面孔，仍在为我们的相遇感到激动。即使当我回到特恩费得，我也没有马上走进去。我不愿走进昏暗的房子，和费尔法斯太太安静地度过夜晚。于是我待在外面，心情激动地凝视着明月和星空，希望和梦想着另一种更加令人激动的生活。 
　　我进屋时，仆人们告诉我罗切斯特先生回来了而他的马在通往海依的路上滑倒在冰上了，他的腿受了伤。 
　　　    


 