Джейн Эйр / Jane Eyre. Шарлотта Бронте

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СКАЧАТЬ and close down by the hazel stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made him a distinct object against the trees. It was exactly one form of Bessie’s Gytrash – a lion-like creature with long hair and a huge head; it passed me, however, quietly enough; not staying to look up, with strange pretercanine eyes, in my face, as I half expected it would. The horse followed – a tall steed, and on its back a rider. The man, the human being, broke the spell at once. Nothing ever rode the Gytrash; it was always alone; and goblins, to my notions, though they might tenant the dumb carcasses of beasts, could scarce covet shelter in the commonplace human form. No Gytrash was this – only a traveller taking the short cut to Millcote. He passed, and I went on; a few steps, and I turned; a sliding sound and an exclamation of ‘What the deuce is to do now?’ and a clattering tumble, arrested my attention. Man and horse were down; they had slipped on the sheet of ice which glazed the causeway. The dog came bounding back, and seeing his master in a predicament, and hearing the horse groan, barked till the evening hills echoed the sound, which was deep in proportion to his magnitude. He snuffed round the prostrate group, and then he ran up to me; it was all he could do – there was no other help at hand to summon. I obeyed him, and walked down to the traveller, by this time struggling himself free of his steed. His efforts were so vigorous, I thought he could not be much hurt; but I asked him the question:

      ‘Are you injured, sir?’

      I think he was swearing, but am not certain; however, he was pronouncing some formula which prevented him from replying to me directly.

      ‘Can I do anything?’ I asked again.

      ‘You must just stand on one side,’ he answered as he rose, first to his knees, and then to his feet. I did; whereupon began a heaving, stamping, clattering process, accompanied by a barking and baying which removed me effectually some yards’ distance; but I would not be driven quite away till I saw the event. This was finally fortunate; the horse was re-established, and the dog was silenced with a ‘Down, Pilot!’ The traveller, now stooping, felt his foot and leg, as if trying whether they were sound; apparently something ailed them, for he halted to the stile whence I had just risen, and sat down.

      I was in the mood for being useful, or at least officious, I think, for I now drew near him again.

      ‘If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch some one either from Thornfield Hall or from Hay.’

      ‘Thank you; I shall do. I have no broken bones – only a sprain;’ and again he stood up and tried his foot, but the result extorted an involuntary ‘Ugh!’

      Something of daylight still lingered, and the moon was waxing bright. I could see him plainly. His figure was enveloped in a riding cloak, fur collared and steel clasped; its details were not apparent, but I traced the general points of middle height and considerable breadth of chest. He had a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow; his eyes and gathered eyebrows looked ireful and thwarted just now; he was past youth, but had not reached middle-age; perhaps he might be thirty-five. I felt no fear of him, and but little shyness. Had he been a handsome, heroic-looking young gentleman, I should not have dared to stand thus questioning him against his will, and offering my services unasked. I had hardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one. I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should have shunned them as one would fire, lightning, or anything else that is bright but antipathetic.

      If even this stranger had smiled and been good-humoured to me when I addressed him; if he had put off my offer of assistance gaily and with thanks, I should have gone on my way and not felt any vocation to renew inquiries; but the frown, the roughness of the traveller, set me at my ease; I retained my station when he waved to me to go, and announced:

      ‘I cannot think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour, in this solitary lane, 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,’ said he, ‘if you have a home in this neighbourhood; where do you come from?’

      ‘From just below; and I am not at all afraid of being out late when it is moonlight; 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 with the battlements?’ pointing to Thornfield Hall, on which the moon cast a hoary gleam, bringing it out distinct and pale from the woods that, by contrast with the western sky, now seemed one mass of shadow.

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      ‘Whose house is it?’

      ‘Mr. Rochester’s.’

      ‘Do you know Mr. Rochester?’

      ‘No, I have never seen him.’

      ‘He is not resident, then?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Can you tell me where he is?’

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      Примечания

      1

      Цитата из поэмы «Времена года» («Осень») шотландского поэта и драматурга Джеймса Томпсона (1700–1748).

      2

      Pamela – «Памела», роман Сэмюэла Ричардсона (1689–1761).

      3

      Henry, Earl of Moreland – «Генри, граф Морленда», роман Генри Брука (1703–1783).

      4

      Marseilles – плотная хлопчатобумажная ткань, производимая в Марселе, Франция.

      5

      Guy СКАЧАТЬ