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第58部分(第2页)

“Mr。 Wood is in the vestry; sir; putting on his surplice。”

“And the carriage?”

“The horses are harnessing。”

“We shall not want it to go to church; but it must be ready the moment we return: all the boxes and luggage arranged and strapped on; and the coachman in his seat。”

“Yes; sir。”

“Jane; are you ready?”

I rose。 There were no groomsmen; no bridesmaids; no relatives to wait for or marshal: none but Mr。 Rochester and I。 Mrs。 Fairfax stood in the hall as we passed。 I would fain have spoken to her; but my hand was held by a grasp of iron: I was hurried along by a stride I could hardly follow; and to look at Mr。 Rochester’s face was to feel that not a second of delay would be tolerated for any purpose。 I wonder what other bridegroom ever looked as he did—so bent up to a purpose; so grimly resolute: or who; under such steadfast brows; ever revealed such flaming and flashing eyes。

I know not whether the day was fair or foul; in descending the drive; I gazed neither on sky nor earth: my heart was with my eyes; and both seemed migrated into Mr。 Rochester’s frame。 I wanted to see the invisible thing on which; as we went along; he appeared to fasten a glance fierce and fell。 I wanted to feel the thoughts whose force he seemed breasting and resisting。

At the churchyard wicket he stopped: he discovered I was quite out of breath。 “Am I cruel in my love?” he said。 “Delay an instant: lean on me; Jane。”

And now I can recall the picture of the grey old house of God rising calm before me; of a rook wheeling round the steeple; of a ruddy morning sky beyond。 I remember something; too; of the green grave… mounds; and I have not forgotten; either; two figures of strangers straying amongst the low hillocks and reading the mementoes graven on the few mossy head…stones。 I noticed them; because; as they saw us; they passed round to the back of the church; and I doubted not they were going to enter by the side…aisle door and witness the ceremony。 By Mr。 Rochester they were not observed; he was earnestly looking at my face from which the blood had; I daresay; momentarily fled: for I felt my forehead dewy; and my cheeks and lips cold。 When I rallied; which I soon did; he walked gently with me up the path to the porch。

ple; the priest waited in his white surplice at the lowly altar; the clerk beside him。 All was still: two shadows only moved in a remote corner。 My conjecture had been correct: the strangers had slipped in before us; and they now stood by the vault of the Rochesters; their backs towards us; viewing through the rails the old time…stained marble tomb; where a kneeling angel guarded the remains of Damer de Rochester; slain at Marston Moor in the time of the civil wars; and of Elizabeth; his wife。

Our place was taken at the munion rails。 Hearing a cautious step behind me; I glanced over my shoulder: one of the strangers—a gentleman; evidently—was advancing up the chancel。 The service began。 The explanation of the intent of matrimony was gone through; and then the clergyman came a step further forward; and; bending slightly towards Mr。 Rochester; went on。

“I require and charge you both (as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment; when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed); that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together in matrimony; ye do now confess it; for be ye well assured that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow; are not joined together by God; neither is their matrimony lawful。”

He paused; as the custom is。 When is the pause after that sentence ever broken by reply? Not; perhaps; once in a hundred years。 And the clergyman; who had not lifted his eyes from his book; and had held his breath but for a moment; was proceeding: his hand was already stretched towards Mr。 Rochester; as his lips unclosed to ask; “Wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife?”—when a distinct and near voice said—

“The marriage cannot go on: I declare the existence of an impediment。”

The clergyman looked up at the speaker and stood mute; the clerk did the same; Mr。 Rochester moved slightly; as if an earthquake had rolled under his feet: taking a firmer footing; and not turning his head or eyes; he said; “Proceed。”

Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word; with deep but low intonation。 Presently Mr。 Wood said—

“I cannot proceed without some investigation into what has been asserted; and evidence of its truth or falsehood。”

“The ceremony is quite broken off;” subjoined the voice behind us。 “I am in a condition to prove my allegation: an insuperable impediment to this marriage exists。”

Mr。 Rochester heard; but heeded not: he stood stubborn and rigid; making no movement but to possess himself of my hand。 What a hot and strong grasp he had! and hoarble was his pale; firm; massive front at this moment! How his eye shone; still watchful; and yet wild beneath!

Mr。 Wood seemed at a loss。 “What is the nature of the impediment?” he asked。 “Perhaps it may be got over—explained away?”

“Hardly;” was the answer。 “I have called it insuperable; and I speak advisedly。”

The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails。 He continued; uttering each word distinctly; calmly; steadily; but not loudly—

“It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage。 Mr。 Rochester has a wife now living。”

My nerves vibrated to those low…spoken words as they had never vibrated to thunder—my blood felt their subtle violence as it had never felt frost or fire; but I was collected; and in no danger of swooning。 I looked at Mr。 Rochester: I made him look at me。 His whole face was colourless rock: his eye was both spark and flint。 He disavowed nothing: he seemed as if he would defy all things。 Without speaking; without smiling; without seeming to recognise in me a human being; he only twined my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side。

“Who are you?” he asked of the intruder。

“My name is Briggs; a solicitor of—Street;

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