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1"Unjust!--unjust!" said my reason, forced by the agonising stimulus into precocious though transitory power: and
2Resolve, equally wrought up, instigated some strange expedient to achieve escape from insupportable oppression--as
3running away, or, if that could not be effected, never eating or drinking more, and letting myself die. What a
4consternation of soul was mine that dreary afternoon! How all my brain was in tumult, and all my heart in insurrection!
5Yet in what darkness, what dense ignorance, was the mental battle fought! I could not answer the ceaseless inward
6question--why I thus suffered; now, at the distance of--I will not say how many years, I see it clearly. I was a discord
7in Gateshead Hall: I was like nobody there; I had nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen
8vassalage. If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them. They were not bound to regard with affection a
9thing that could not sympathise with one amongst them; a heterogeneous thing, opposed to them in temperament, in
10capacity, in propensities; a useless thing, incapable of serving their interest, or adding to their pleasure; a noxious
11thing, cherishing the germs of indignation at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment. I know that had I been a
12sanguine, brilliant, careless, exacting, handsome, romping child--though equally dependent and friendless--Mrs. Reed
13would have endured my presence more complacently; her children would have entertained for me more of the cordiality of
14fellow-feeling; the servants would have been less prone to make me the scapegoat of the nursery. Daylight began to
15forsake the red-room; it was past four o'clock, and the beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight. I heard the
16rain still beating continuously on the staircase window, and the wind howling in the grove behind the hall; I grew by
17degrees cold as a stone, and then my courage sank. My habitual mood of humiliation, self-doubt, forlorn depression, fell
18damp on the embers of my decaying ire. All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so; what thought had I been but
19just conceiving of starving myself to death? That certainly was a crime: and was I fit to die? Or was the vault under
20the chancel of Gateshead Church an inviting bourne? In such vault I had been told did Mr. Reed lie buried; and led by
21this thought to recall his idea, I dwelt on it with gathering dread. I could not remember him; but I knew that he was my
22own uncle--my mother's brother--that he had taken me when a parentless infant to his house; and that in his last moments
23he had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain me as one of her own children. Mrs. Reed
24probably considered she had kept this promise; and so she had, I dare say, as well as her nature would permit her; but
25how could she really like an interloper not of her race, and unconnected with her, after her husband's death, by any
26tie? It must have been most irksome to find herself bound by a hard-wrung pledge to stand in the stead of a parent to a
27strange child she could not love, and to see an uncongenial alien permanently intruded on her own family group. A
28singular notion dawned upon me. I doubted not--never doubted--that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me
29kindly; and now, as I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls--occasionally also turning a fascinated eye
30towards the dimly gleaming mirror--I began to recall what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their graves by the
31violation of their last wishes, revisiting the earth to punish the perjured and avenge the oppressed; and I thought Mr.
32Reed's spirit, harassed by the wrongs of his sister's child, might quit its abode--whether in the church vault or in the
33unknown world of the departed--and rise before me in this chamber. I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs, fearful lest any
34sign of violent grief might waken a preternatural voice to comfort me, or elicit from the gloom some haloed face,
35bending over me with strange pity. This idea, consolatory in theory, I felt would be terrible if realised: with all my
36might I endeavoured to stifle it--I endeavoured to be firm. Shaking my hair from my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to
37look boldly round the dark room; at this moment a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, I asked myself, a ray from the moon
38penetrating some aperture in the blind? No; moonlight was still, and this stirred; while I gazed, it glided up to the
39ceiling and quivered over my head. I can now conjecture readily that this streak of light was, in all likelihood, a
40gleam from a lantern carried by some one across the lawn: but then, prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken as my
41nerves were by agitation, I thought the swift darting beam was a herald of some coming vision from another world. My
42heart beat thick, my head grew hot; a sound filled my ears, which I deemed the rushing of wings; something seemed near
43me; I was oppressed, suffocated: endurance broke down; I rushed to the door and shook the lock in desperate effort.
44Steps came running along the outer passage; the key turned, Bessie and Abbot entered. "Miss Eyre, are you ill?" said
45Bessie. "What a dreadful noise! it went quite through me!" exclaimed Abbot. "Take me out! Let me go into the nursery!"
46was my cry. "What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?" again demanded Bessie. "Oh! I saw a light, and I thought
47a ghost would come." I had now got hold of Bessie's hand, and she did not snatch it from me. "She has screamed out on
48purpose," declared Abbot, in some disgust. "And what a scream! If she had been in great pain one would have excused it,
49but she only wanted to bring us all here: I know her naughty tricks." "What is all this?" demanded another voice
50peremptorily; and Mrs. Reed came along the corridor, her cap flying wide, her gown rustling stormily. "Abbot and Bessie,
51I believe I gave orders that Jane Eyre should be left in the red-room till I came to her myself." "Miss Jane screamed so
52loud, ma'am," pleaded Bessie. "Let her go," was the only answer. "Loose Bessie's hand, child: you cannot succeed in
53getting out by these means, be assured. I abhor artifice, particularly in children; it is my duty to show you that
54tricks will not answer: you will now stay here an hour longer, and it is only on condition of perfect submission and
55stillness that I shall liberate you then." "O aunt! have pity! Forgive me! I cannot endure it--let me be punished some
56other way! I shall be killed if--" "Silence! This violence is all most repulsive:" and so, no doubt, she felt it. I was
57a precocious actress in her eyes; she sincerely looked on me as a compound of virulent passions, mean spirit, and
58dangerous duplicity. Bessie and Abbot having retreated, Mrs. Reed, impatient of my now frantic anguish and wild sobs,
59abruptly thrust me back and locked me in, without farther parley. I heard her sweeping away; and soon after she was
60gone, I suppose I had a species of fit: unconsciousness closed the scene.
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