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第4章 生抢小八

　　'But are your relatives so very poor? Are they working people?'

　　The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, tothe high delight and refreshment of the whole school. The order wasnow given 'To the garden!' Each put on a coarse straw bonnet, withstrings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze, I wassimilarly equipped, and, following the stream, I made my way intothe open air.

　　Daylight began to forsake the red-room; it was past four o'clock,and the beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight. I heard therain still beating continuously on the staircase window, and thewind howling in the grove behind the hall; I grew by degrees cold as astone, and then my courage sank. My habitual mood of humiliation,self-doubt, forlorn depression, fell damp on the embers of my decayingire. All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so; what thoughthad I been but just conceiving of starving myself to death? Thatcertainly was a crime: and was I fit to die? Or was the vault underthe chancel of Gateshead Church an inviting bourne? In such vault Ihad been told did Mr. Reed lie buried; and led by this thought torecall his idea, I dwelt on it with gathering dread. I could notremember him; but I knew that he was my own uncle- my mother'sbrother- that he had taken me when a parentless infant to his house;and that in his last moments he had required a promise of Mrs. Reedthat she would rear and mai

　　'Well, you have been crying, Miss Jane Eyre; can you tell me whatabout? Have you any pain?'

　　'Not quite: you have secured the shadow of your thought; but nomore, probably. You had not enough of the artist's skill and scienceto give it full being: yet the drawings are, for a school-girl,peculiar. As to the thoughts, they are elfish. These eyes in theEvening Star you must have seen in a dream. How could you make themlook so clear, and yet not at all brilliant? for the planet abovequells their rays. And what meaning is that in their solemn depth? Andwho taught you to paint wind? There is a high gale in that sky, and onthis hill-top. Where did you see Latmos? For that is Latmos. There!put the drawings away!'

　　It was Bessie, I knew well enough; but I did not stir; her lightstep came tripping down the path.

　　I can remember Miss Temple walking lightly and rapidly along ourdrooping line, her plaid cloak, which the frosty wind fluttered,gathered close about her, and encouraging us, by precept andexample, to keep up our spirits, and march forward, as she said, 'likestalwart soldiers.' The other teachers, poor things, were generallythemselves too much dejected to attempt the task of cheering others.

　　Sundays were dreary days in that wintry season. We had to walktwo miles to Brocklebridge Church, where our patron officiated. We setout cold, we arrived at church colder: during the morning service webecame almost paralysed. It was too far to return to dinner, and anallowance of cold meat and bread, in the same penurious proportionobserved in our ordinary meals, was served round between the services.

　　'I will send her, then, as soon as possible, Mr. Brocklehurst; for,I assure you, I feel anxious to be relieved of a responsibility thatwas becoming too irksome.'