迪文小说

第7部分（第2页）

Speak　I　must：　I　had　been　trodden　on　severely；　and　must　turn：　but　how？　What　strength　had　I　to　dart　retaliation　at　my　antagonist？　I　gathered　my　energies　and　launched　them　in　this　blunt　sentence—

“I　am　not　deceitful：　if　I　were；　I　should　say　I　loved　you；　but　I　declare　I　do　not　love　you：　I　dislike　you　the　worst　of　anybody　in　the　world　except　John　Reed；　and　this　book　about　the　liar；　you　may　give　to　your　girl；　Georgiana；　for　it　is　she　who　tells　lies；　and　not　I。”

Mrs。　Reed’s　hands　still　lay　on　her　work　inactive：　her　eye　of　ice　continued　to　dwell　freezingly　on　mine。

“What　more　have　you　to　say？”　she　asked；　rather　in　the　tone　in　which　a　person　might　address　an　opponent　of　adult　age　than　such　as　is　ordinarily　used　to　a　child。

That　eye　of　hers；　that　voice　stirred　every　antipathy　I　had。　Shaking　from　head　to　foot；　thrilled　with　ungovernable　excitement；　I　continued—

“I　am　glad　you　are　no　relation　of　mine：　I　will　never　call　you　aunt　again　as　long　as　I　live。　I　will　never　e　to　see　you　when　I　am　grown　up；　and　if　any　one　asks　me　how　I　liked　you；　and　how　you　treated　me；　I　will　say　the　very　thought　of　you　makes　me　sick；　and　that　you　treated　me　with　miserable　cruelty。”

“How　dare　you　affirm　that；　Jane　Eyre？”

“How　dare　I；　Mrs。　Reed？　How　dare　I？　Because　it　is　the　truth。　You　think　I　have　no　feelings；　and　that　I　can　do　without　one　bit　of　love　or　kindness；　but　I　cannot　live　so：　and　you　have　no　pity。　I　shall　remember　how　you　thrust　me　back—roughly　and　violently　thrust　me　back—into　the　red…room；　and　locked　me　up　there；　to　my　dying　day；　though　I　was　in　agony；　though　I　cried　out；　while　suffocating　with　distress；　‘Have　mercy！　Have　mercy；　Aunt　Reed！’　And　that　punishment　you　made　me　suffer　because　your　wicked　boy　struck　me—knocked　me　down　for　nothing。　I　will　tell　anybody　who　asks　me　questions；　this　exact　tale。　People　think　you　a　good　woman；　but　you　are　bad；　hard…　hearted。　You　are　deceitful！”

Ere　I　had　finished　this　reply；　my　soul　began　to　expand；　to　exult；　with　the　strangest　sense　of　freedom；　of　triumph；　I　ever　felt。　It　seemed　as　if　an　invisible　bond　had　burst；　and　that　I　had　struggled　out　into　unhoped…for　liberty。　Not　without　cause　was　this　sentiment：　Mrs。　Reed　looked　frightened；　her　work　had　slipped　from　her　knee；　she　was　lifting　up　her　hands；　rocking　herself　to　and　fro；　and　even　twisting　her　face　as　if　she　would　cry。

“Jane；　you　are　under　a　mistake：　what　is　the　matter　with　you？　Why　do　you　tremble　so　violently？　Would　you　like　to　drink　some　water？”

“No；　Mrs。　Reed。”

“Is　there　anything　else　you　wish　for；　Jane？　I　assure　you；　I　desire　to　be　your　friend。”

“Not　you。　You　told　Mr。　Brocklehurst　I　had　a　bad　character；　a　deceitful　disposition；　and　I’ll　let　everybody　at　Lowood　know　what　you　are；　and　what　you　have　done。”

“Jane；　you　don’t　understand　these　things：　children　must　be　corrected　for　their　faults。”

“Deceit　is　not　my　fault！”　I　cried　out　in　a　savage；　high　voice。

“But　you　are　passionate；　Jane；　that　you　must　allow：　and　now　return　to　the　nursery—there’s　a　dear—and　lie　down　a　little。”

“I　am　not　your　dear；　I　cannot　lie　down：　send　me　to　school　soon；　Mrs。　Reed；　for　I　hate　to　live　here。”

“I　will　indeed　send　her　to　school　soon；”　murmured　Mrs。　Reed　sotto　voce；　and　gathering　up　her　ent。

I　was　left　there　alone—winner　of　the　field。　It　was　the　hardest　battle　I　had　fought；　and　the　first　victory　I　had　gained：　I　stood　awhile　on　the　rug；　where　Mr。　Brocklehurst　had　stood；　and　I　enjoyed　my　conqueror’s　solitude。　First；　I　smiled　to　myself　and　felt　elate；　but　this　fierce　pleasure　subsided　in　me　as　fast　as　did　the　accelerated　throb　of　my　pulses。　A　child　cannot　quarrel　with　its　elders；　as　I　had　done；　cannot　give　its　furious　feelings　uncontrolled　play；　as　I　had　given　mine；　without　experiencing　afterwards　the　pang　of　remorse　and　the　chill　of　reaction。　A　ridge　of　lighted　heath；　alive；　glancing；　devouring；　would　have　been　a　meet　emblem　of　my　mind　when　I　accused　and　menaced　Mrs。　Reed：　the　same　ridge；　black　and　blasted　after　the　flames　are　dead；　would　have　represented　as　meetly　my　subsequent　condition；　when　half…an…hour’s　silence　and　reflection　had　shown　me　the　madness　of　my　conduct；　and　the　dreariness　of　my　hated　and　hating　position。

Something　of　vengeance　I　had　tasted　for　the　first　time；　as　aromatic　wine　it　seemed；　on　swallowing；　warm　and　racy：　its　after…flavour；　metallic　and　corroding；　gave　me　a　sensation　as　if　I　had　been　poisoned。　Willingly　would　I　now　have　gone　and　asked　Mrs。　Reed’s　pardon；　but　I　knew；　partly　from　experience　and　partly　from　instinct；　that　was　the　way　to　make　her　repulse