《Jane Eyre》第130章

“i　am　ignorant　of　all　concerning　mr。　rochester：　the　letter　never　mentions　him　but　to　narrate　the　fraudulent　and　illegal　attempt　i　have　adverted　to。　you　should　rather　ask　the　name　of　the　governess—　the　nature　of　the　event　which　requires　her　appearance。”
“did　no　one　go　to　thornfield　hall；　then？　did　no　one　see　mr。　rochester？”
“i　suppose　not。”
“but　they　wrote　to　him？”
“of　course。”
“and　what　did　he　say？　who　has　his　letters？”
“mr。　briggs　intimates　that　the　answer　to　his　application　was　not　from　mr。　rochester；　but　from　a　lady：　it　is　signed　‘alice　fairfax。’”
i　felt　cold　and　dismayed：　my　worst　fears　then　were　probably　true：　he　had　in　all　probability　left　england　and　rushed　in　reckless　desperation　to　some　former　haunt　on　the　continent。　and　what　opiate　for　his　severe　sufferings—what　object　for　his　strong　passions—had　he　sought　there？　i　dared　not　answer　the　question。　oh；　my　poor　master—once　almost　my　husband—whom　i　had　often　called　“my　dear　edward！”
“he　must　have　been　a　bad　man；”　observed　mr。　rivers。
“you　don’t　know　him—don’t　pronounce　an　opinion　upon　him；”　i　said；　with　warmth。
“very　well；”　he　answered　quietly：　“and　indeed　my　head　is　otherwise　occupied　than　with　him：　i　have　my　tale　to　finish。　since　you　won’t　ask　the　governess’s　name；　i　must　tell　it　of　my　own　accord。　stay！　i　have　it　here—it　is　always　more　satisfactory　to　see　important　points　written　down；　fairly　mitted　to　black　and　white。”
and　the　pocket…book　was　again　deliberately　produced；　opened；　sought　through；　from　one　of　its　partments　was　extracted　a　shabby　slip　of　paper；　hastily　torn　off：　i　recognised　in　its　texture　and　its　stains　of　ultra…marine；　and　lake；　and　vermillion；　the　ravished　margin　of　the　portrait…cover。　he　got　up；　held　it　close　to　my　eyes：　and　i　read；　traced　in　indian　ink；　in　my　own　handwriting；　the　words　“jane　eyre”—the　work　doubtless　of　some　moment　of　abstraction。
“briggs　wrote　to　me　of　a　jane　eyre：”　he　said；　“the　advertisements　demanded　a　jane　eyre：　i　knew　a　jane　elliott。—i　confess　i　had　my　suspicions；　but　it　was　only　yesterday　afternoon　they　were　at　once　resolved　into　certainty。　you　own　the　name　and　renounce　the　alias？”
“yes—yes；　but　where　is　mr。　briggs？　he　perhaps　knows　more　of　mr。　rochester　than　you　do。”
“briggs　is　in　london。　i　should　doubt　his　knowing　anything　at　all　about　mr。　rochester；　it　is　not　in　mr。　rochester　he　is　interested。　meantime；　you　forget　essential　points　in　pursuing　trifles：　you　do　not　inquire　why　mr。　briggs　sought　after　you—what　he　wanted　with　you。”
“well；　what　did　he　want？”
“merely　to　tell　you　that　your　uncle；　mr。　eyre　of　madeira；　is　dead；　that　he　has　left　you　all　his　property；　and　that　you　are　now　rich—　merely　that—nothing　more。”
“i！—rich？”
“yes；　you；　rich—quite　an　heiress。”
silence　succeeded。
“you　must　prove　your　identity　of　course；”　resumed　st。　john　presently：　“a　step　which　will　offer　no　difficulties；　you　can　then　enter　on　immediate　possession。　your　fortune　is　vested　in　the　english　funds；　briggs　has　the　will　and　the　necessary　documents。”
here　was　a　new　card　turned　up！　it　is　a　fine　thing；　reader；　to　be　lifted　in　a　moment　from　indigence　to　wealth—a　very　fine　thing；　but　not　a　matter　one　can　prehend；　or　consequently　enjoy；　all　at　once。　and　then　there　are　other　chances　in　life　far　more　thrilling　and　rapture…giving：　this　is　solid；　an　affair　of　the　actual　world；　nothing　ideal　about　it：　all　its　associations　are　solid　and　sober；　and　its　manifestations　are　the　same。　one　does　not　jump；　and　spring；　and　shout　hurrah！　at　hearing　one　has　got　a　fortune；　one　begins　to　consider　responsibilities；　and　to　ponder　business；　on　a　base　of　steady　satisfaction　rise　certain　grave　cares；　and　we　contain　ourselves；　and　blood　over　our　bliss　with　a　solemn　brow。
besides；　the　words　legacy；　bequest；　go　side　by　side　with　the　words；　death；　funeral。　my　uncle　i　had　heard　was　dead—my　only　relative；　ever　since　being　made　aware　of　his　existence；　i　had　cherished　the　hope　of　one　day　seeing　him：　now；　i　never　should。　and　then　this　money　came　only　to　me：　not　to　me　and　a　rejoicing　family；　but　to　my　isolated　self。　it　was　a　grand　boon　doubtless；　and　independence　would　be　glorious—yes；　i　felt　that—that　thought　swelled　my　heart。
“you　unbend　your　forehead　at　last；”　said　mr。　rivers。　“i　thought　medusa　had　looked　at　you；　and　that　you　were　turning　to　stone。　perhaps　now　you　will　ask　how　much　you　are　worth？”
“how　much　am　i　worth？”
“oh；　a　trifle！　nothing　of　course　to　speak　of—twenty　thousand　pounds；　i　think　they　say—but　what　is　that？”
“twenty　thousand　pounds？”
here　was　a　new　stunner—i　had　been　calculating　on　four　or　five　thousand。　this　news　actually　took　my　breath　for　a　moment：　mr。　st。　john；　whom　i　had　never　heard　laugh　before；　laughed　now。
“well；”　said　he；　“if　you　had　mitted　a　murder；　and　i　had　told　you　your　crime　was　discovered；　you　could　scarcely　look　more　aghast。”
“it　is　a　large　sum—don’t　you　think　there　is　a　mistake？”
“no　mistake　at　all。”
“perhaps　you　have　read　the　figures　wrong—it　may　be　two　thousand！”
“it　is　written　in　letters；　not　figures；—twenty　thousand。”
i　again　felt　rather　like　an　individual　of　but　average　gastronomical　powers　sitting　down　to　feast　alone　at　a　table　spread　with　provisions　for　a　hundred。　mr。　rivers　rose　now　and　put　his　cloak　on。
“if　it　were　not　such　a　very　wild　night；”　he　said；　“i　would　send　hannah　down　to　keep　you　pany：　you　look　too　desperately　miserable　to　be　left　alone。　but　hannah；　poor　woman！　could　not　stride　the　drifts　so　well　as　i：　her　legs　are　not　quite　so　long：　so　i　must　e’en　leave　you　to　your　sorrows。　good…night。”
he　was　lifting　the　latch：　a　sudden　thought　occurred　to　me。　“stop　one　minute！”　i　cried。
“well？”
“it　puzzles　me　to　know　why　mr。　briggs　wrote　to　you　about　me；　or　how　he　knew　you；　or　could　fancy　that　you；　living　in　such　an　out…of…the…　way　place；　had　the　power　to　aid　in　my　discovery。”
“oh！　i　am　a　clergyman；”　he　said；　“and　the　clergy　are　often　appealed　to　about　odd　matters。”　again　the　latch　rattled。
“no；　that　does　not　satisfy　me！”　i　exclaimed：　and　indeed　there　was　something　in　the　hasty　and　unexplanatory　reply　which；　instead　of　allay