第5章

Five o'clock had hardly struck on the morning of the 19th of January, when Bessie brought a candle into my closet and found me already up and nearly dressed. I had risen half-an-hour before her entrance, and had washed my face, and put on my clothes by the light of a half-moon just setting, whose rays streamed through the narrow window near my crib. I was to leave Gateshead that day by a coach which passed the lodge gates at six a.m. Bessie was the only person yet risen; she had lit a fire in the nursery, where she now proceeded to make my breakfast. Few children can eat when excited with the thoughts of a journey; nor could I. Bessie, having pressed me in vain to take a few spoonfuls of the boiled milk and bread she had prepared for me, wrapped up some biscuits in a paper and put them into my bag; then she helped me on with my pelisse and bonnet, and wrapping herself in a shawl, she and I left the nursery. As we passed Mrs. Reed's bedroom, she said,“Will you go in and bid Missis good-bye?”

“No, Bessie: she came to my crib last night when you were gone down to supper, and said I need not disturb her in the morning, or my cousins either; and she told me to remember that she had always been my best friend, and to speak of her and be grateful to her accordingly.”

“What did you say, Miss?”

“Nothing: I covered my face with the bedclothes, and turned from her to the wall.”

“That was wrong, Miss Jane.”

“It was quite right, Bessie. Your Missis has not been my friend: she has been my foe.”

“O Miss Jane! don't say so!”

“Good-bye to Gateshead!”cried I, as we passed through the hall and went out at the front door.

The moon was set, and it was very dark; Bessie carried a lantern, whose light glanced on wet steps and gravel road sodden by a recent thaw. Raw and chill was the winter morning: my teeth chattered as I hastened down the drive. There was a light in the porter's lodge: when we reached it, we found the porter's wife just kindling her fire: my trunk, which had been carried down the evening before, stood corded at the door. It wanted but a few minutes of six, and shortly after that hour had struck, the distant roll of wheels announced the coming coach; I went to the door and watched its lamps approach rapidly through the gloom.

“Is she going by herself?”asked the porter's wife.

“Yes.”

“And how far is it?”

“Fifty miles.”

“What a long way! I wonder Mrs. Reed is not afraid to trust her so far alone.”

The coach drew up; there it was at the gates with its four horses and its top laden with passengers: the guard and coachman loudly urged haste; my trunk was hoisted up; I was taken from Bessie's neck, to which I clung with kisses.

“Be sure and take good care of her,”cried she to the guard, as he lifted me into the inside.

“Ay, ay!”was the answer: the door was slapped to, a voice exclaimed“All right,”and on we drove. Thus was I severed from Bessie and Gateshead; thus whirled away to unknown, and, as I then deemed, remote and mysterious regions.

I remember but little of the journey; I only know that the day seemed to me of a preternatural length, and that we appeared to travel over hundreds of miles of road. We passed through several towns, and in one, a very large one, the coach stopped; the horses were taken out, and the passengers alighted to dine. I was carried into an inn, where the guard wanted me to have some dinner; but, as I had no appetite, he left me in an immense room with a fireplace at each end, a chandelier pendent from the ceiling, and a little red gallery high up against the wall filled with musical instruments. Here I walked about for a long time, feeling very strange, and mortally apprehensive of some one coming in and kidnapping me; for I believed in kidnappers, their exploits having frequently figured in Bessie's fireside chronicles. At last the guard returned; once more I was stowed away in the coach, my protector mounted his own seat, sounded his hollow horn, and away we rattled over the“stony street”of L-.

The afternoon came on wet and somewhat misty: as it waned into dusk, I began to feel that we were getting very far indeed from Gateshead: we ceased to pass through towns;the country changed; great grey hills heaved up round the horizon: as twilight deepened, we descended a valley, dark with wood, and long after night had overclouded the prospect, I heard a wild wind rushing amongst trees.

Lulled by the sound, I at last dropped asleep; I had not long slumbered when the sudden cessation of motion awoke me; the coach-door was open, and a person like a servant was standing at it: I saw her face and dress by the light of the lamps.

“Is there a little girl called Jane Eyre here?”she asked. I answered“Yes,”and was then lifted out; my trunk was handed down, and the coach instantly drove away.

I was stiff with long sitting, and bewildered with the noise and motion of the coach:Gathering my faculties, I looked about me. Rain, wind, and darkness filled the air;nevertheless, I dimly discerned a wall before me and a door open in it; through this door I passed with my new guide: she shut and locked it behind her. There was now visible a house or houses-for the building spread far-with many windows, and lights burning in some; we went up a broad pebbly path, splashing wet, and were admitted at a door; then the servant led me through a passage into a room with a fire, where she left me alone.

I stood and warmed my numbed fingers over the blaze, then I looked round; there was no candle, but the uncertain light from the hearth showed, by intervals, papered walls, carpet, curtains, shining mahogany furniture: it was a parlour, not so spacious or splendid as the drawing-room at Gateshead, but comfortable enough. I was puzzling to make out the subject of a picture on the wall, when the door opened, and an individual carrying a light entered; another followed close behind.

The first was a tall lady with dark hair, dark eyes, and a pale and large forehead; her figure was partly enveloped in a shawl, her countenance was grave, her bearing erect.

“The child is very young to be sent alone,”said she, putting her candle down on the table. She considered me attentively for a minute or two, then further added-

“She had better be put to bed soon; she looks tired: are you tired?”she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“A little, ma'am.”

“And hungry too, no doubt: let her have some supper before she goes to bed, Miss Miller. Is this the first time you have left your parents to come to school, my little girl?”

I explained to her that I had no parents. She inquired how long they had been dead: then how old I was, what was my name, whether I could read, write, and sew a little: then she touched my cheek gently with her forefinger, and saying,“She hoped I should be a good child,”dismissed me along with Miss Miller.

The lady I had left might be about twenty-nine; the one who went with me appeared some years younger: the first impressed me by her voice, look, and air. Miss Miller was more ordinary; ruddy in complexion, though of a careworn countenance; hurried in gait and action, like one who had always a multiplicity of tasks on hand: she looked, indeed, what I afterwards found she really was, an under-teacher. Led by her, I passed from compartment to compartment, from passage to passage, of a large and irregular building;till, emerging from the total and somewhat dreary silence pervading that portion of the house we had traversed, we came upon the hum of many voices, and presently entered a wide, long room, with great deal tables, two at each end, on each of which burnt a pair of candles, and seated all round on benches, a congregation of girls of every age, from nine or ten to twenty. Seen by the dim light of the dips, their number to me appeared countless, though not in reality exceeding eighty; they were uniformly dressed in brown stuff frocks of quaint fashion, and long holland pinafores. It was the hour of study; they were engaged in conning over their to-morrow's task, and the hum I had heard was the combined result of their whispered repetitions.

Miss Miller signed to me to sit on a bench near the door, then walking up to the top of the long room she cried out-

“Monitors, collect the lesson-books and put them away!”

Four tall girls arose from different tables, and going round, gathered the books and removed them. Miss Miller again gave the word of command-

“Monitors, fetch the supper-trays!”

The tall girls went out and returned presently, each bearing a tray, with portions of something, I knew not what, arranged thereon, and a pitcher of water and mug in the middle of each tray. The portions were handed round; those who liked took a draught of the water, the mug being common to all. When it came to my turn, I drank, for I was thirsty, but did not touch the food, excitement and fatigue rendering me incapable of eating: I now saw, however, that it was a thin oaten cake shared into fragments.

The meal over, prayers were read by Miss Miller, and the classes filed off, two and two,upstairs. Overpowered by this time with weariness, I scarcely noticed what sort of a place the bedroom was, except that, like the schoolroom, I saw it was very long. To-night I was to be Miss Miller's bed-fellow; she helped me to undress: when laid down I glanced at the long rows of beds, each of which was quickly filled with two occupants; in ten minutes the single light was extinguished, and amidst silence and complete darkness I fell asleep.

The night passed rapidly. I was too tired even to dream; I only once awoke to hear the wind rave in furious gusts, and the rain fall in torrents, and to be sensible that Miss Miller had taken her place by my side. When I again unclosed my eyes, a loud bell was ringing; the girls were up and dressing; day had not yet begun to dawn, and a rushlight or two burned in the room. I too rose reluctantly; it was bitter cold, and I dressed as well as I could for shivering, and washed when there was a basin at liberty, which did not occur soon, as there was but one basin to six girls, on the stands down the middle of the room. Again the bell rang: all formed in file, two and two, and in that order descended the stairs and entered the cold and dimly lit schoolroom: here prayers were read by Miss Miller; afterwards she called out-

“Form classes!”

A great tumult succeeded for some minutes, during which Miss Miller repeatedly exclaimed,“Silence!”and“Order!”When it subsided, I saw them all drawn up in four semicircles, before four chairs, placed at the four tables; all held books in their hands, and a great book, like a Bible, lay on each table, before the vacant seat. A pause of some seconds succeeded, filled up by the low, vague hum of numbers; Miss Miller walked from class to class, hushing this indefinite sound.

A distant bell tinkled: immediately three ladies entered the room, each walked to a table and took her seat. Miss Miller assumed the fourth vacant chair, which was that nearest the door, and around which the smallest of the children were assembled: to this inferior class I was called, and placed at the bottom of it.

Business now began, the day's Collect was repeated, then certain texts of Scripture were said, and to these succeeded a protracted reading of chapters in the Bible, which lasted an hour. By the time that exercise was terminated, day had fully dawned. The indefatigable bell now sounded for the fourth time: the classes were marshalled and marched into another room to breakfast: how glad I was to behold a prospect of getting something to eat! I was now nearly sick from inanition, having taken so little the day before.

The refectory was a great, low-ceiled, gloomy room; on two long tables smoked basins of something hot, which, however, to my dismay, sent forth an odour far from inviting. I saw a universal manifestation of discontent when the fumes of the repast met the nostrils of those destined to swallow it; from the van of the procession, the tall girls of the first class, rose the whispered words-

“Disgusting! The porridge is burnt again!”

“Silence!”ejaculated a voice; not that of Miss Miller, but one of the upper teachers, a little and dark personage, smartly dressed, but of somewhat morose aspect, who installed herself at the top of one table, while a more buxom lady presided at the other. I looked in vain for her I had first seen the night before; she was not visible: Miss Miller occupied the foot of the table where I sat, and a strange, foreign-looking, elderly lady, the French teacher, as I afterwards found, took the corresponding seat at the other board. A long grace was said and a hymn sung; then a servant brought in some tea for the teachers, and the meal began.

Ravenous, and now very faint, I devoured a spoonful or two of my portion without thinking of its taste; but the first edge of hunger blunted, I perceived I had got in hand a nauseous mess; burnt porridge is almost as bad as rotten potatoes; famine itself soon sickens over it. The spoons were moved slowly: I saw each girl taste her food and try to swallow it; but in most cases the effort was soon relinquished. Breakfast was over, and none had breakfasted. Thanks being returned for what we had not got, and a second hymn chanted, the refectory was evacuated for the schoolroom. I was one of the last to go out, and in passing the tables, I saw one teacher take a basin of the porridge and taste it; she looked at the others;all their countenances expressed displeasure, and one of them, the stout one, whispered-

“Abominable stuff! How shameful!”

A quarter of an hour passed before lessons again began, during which the schoolroom was in a glorious tumult; for that space of time it seemed to be permitted to talk loud and more freely, and they used their privilege. The whole conversation ran on the breakfast, which one and all abused roundly. Poor things! it was the sole consolation they had. Miss Miller was now the only teacher in the room: a group of great girls standing about her spoke with serious and sullen gestures. I heard the name of Mr. Brocklehurst pronounced by some lips; at which Miss Miller shook her head disapprovingly; but she made no great effort to check the general wrath; doubtless she shared in it.

A clock in the schoolroom struck nine; Miss Miller left her circle, and standing in the middle of the room, cried-

“Silence! To your seats!”

Discipline prevailed: in five minutes the confused throng was resolved into order, and comparative silence quelled the Babel clamour of tongues. The upper teachers now punctually resumed their posts: but still, all seemed to wait. Ranged on benches down the sides of the room, the eighty girls sat motionless and erect; a quaint assemblage they appeared, all with plain locks combed from their faces, not a curl visible; in brown dresses, made high and surrounded by a narrow tucker about the throat, with little pockets of holland (shaped something like a Highlander's purse) tied in front of their frocks, and destined to serve the purpose of a work-bag: all, too, wearing woollen stockings and country-made shoes, fastened with brass buckles. Above twenty of those clad in this costume were full-grown girls, or rather young women; it suited them ill, and gave an air of oddity even to the prettiest.

I was still looking at them, and also at intervals examining the teachers-none of whom precisely pleased me; for the stout one was a little coarse, the dark one not a little fierce, the foreigner harsh and grotesque, and Miss Miller, poor thing! looked purple, weather-beaten, and over-worked-when, as my eye wandered from face to face, the whole school rose simultaneously, as if moved by a common spring.

What was the matter? I had heard no order given: I was puzzled. Ere I had gathered my wits, the classes were again seated: but as all eyes were now turned to one point, mine followed the general direction, and encountered the personage who had received me last night. She stood at the bottom of the long room, on the hearth; for there was a fire at each end; she surveyed the two rows of girls silently and gravely. Miss Miller approaching, seemed to ask her a question, and having received her answer, went back to her place, and said aloud-

“Monitor of the first class, fetch the globes!”

While the direction was being executed, the lady consulted moved slowly up the room. I suppose I have a considerable organ of veneration, for I retain yet the sense of admiring awe with which my eyes traced her steps. Seen now, in broad daylight, she looked tall, fair, and shapely; brown eyes with a benignant light in their irids, and a fine pencilling of long lashes round, relieved the whiteness of her large front; on each of her temples her hair, of a very dark brown, was clustered in round curls, according to the fashion of those times, when neither smooth bands nor long ringlets were in vogue; her dress, also in the mode of the day, was of purple cloth, relieved by a sort of Spanish trimming of black velvet; a gold watch (watches were not so common then as now) shone at her girdle. Let the reader add, to complete the picture, refined features; a complexion, if pale, clear; and a stately air and carriage, and he will have, at least, as clearly as words can give it, a correct idea of the exterior of Miss Temple—Maria Temple, as I afterwards saw the name written in a prayer-book intrusted to me to carry to church.

The superintendent of Lowood (for such was this lady) having taken her seat before a pair of globes placed on one of the tables, summoned the first class round her, and commenced giving a lesson on geography; the lower classes were called by the teachers:repetitions in history, grammar, &c., went on for an hour; writing and arithmetic succeeded, and music lessons were given by Miss Temple to some of the elder girls. The duration of each lesson was measured by the clock, which at last struck twelve. The superintendent rose-

“I have a word to address to the pupils,”said she.

The tumult of cessation from lessons was already breaking forth, but it sank at her voice. She went on-

“You had this morning a breakfast which you could not eat; you must be hungry:—I have ordered that a lunch of bread and cheese shall be served to all.”

The teachers looked at her with a sort of surprise.

“It is to be done on my responsibility,”she added, in an explanatory tone to them, and immediately afterwards left the room.

The bread and cheese was presently brought in and distributed, to the high delight and refreshment of the whole school. The order was now given“To the garden!”Each put on a coarse straw bonnet, with strings of coloured calico, and a cloak of grey frieze. I was similarly equipped, and, following the stream, I made my way into the open air.

The garden was a wide inclosure, surrounded with walls so high as to exclude every glimpse of prospect; a covered verandah ran down one side, and broad walks bordered a middle space divided into scores of little beds: these beds were assigned as gardens for the pupils to cultivate, and each bed had an owner. When full of flowers they would doubtless look pretty; but now, at the latter end of January, all was wintry blight and brown decay. I shuddered as I stood and looked round me: it was an inclement day for outdoor exercise;not positively rainy, but darkened by a drizzling yellow fog; all under foot was still soaking wet with the floods of yesterday. The stronger among the girls ran about and engaged in active games, but sundry pale and thin ones herded together for shelter and warmth in the verandah; and amongst these, as the dense mist penetrated to their shivering frames, I heard frequently the sound of a hollow cough.

As yet I had spoken to no one, nor did anybody seem to take notice of me; I stood lonely enough: but to that feeling of isolation I was accustomed; it did not oppress me much. I leant against a pillar of the verandah, drew my grey mantle close about me, and, trying to forget the cold which nipped me without, and the unsatisfied hunger which gnawed me within, delivered myself up to the employment of watching and thinking. My reflections were too undefined and fragmentary to merit record: I hardly yet knew where I was; Gateshead and my past life seemed floated away to an immeasurable distance; the present was vague and strange, and of the future I could form no conjecture. I looked round the convent-like garden, and then up at the house-a large building, half of which seemed grey and old, the other half quite new. The new part, containing the schoolroom and dormitory, was lit by mullioned and latticed windows, which gave it a church-like aspect; a stone tablet over the door bore this inscription:-

“Lowood Institution.—This portion was rebuilt A.D. —, by Naomi Brocklehurst, of Brocklehurst Hall, in this county.”“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”—St. Matt. v. 16.

I read these words over and over again: I felt that an explanation belonged to them, and was unable fully to penetrate their import. I was still pondering the signification of“Institution,”and endeavouring to make out a connection between the first words and the verse of Scripture, when the sound of a cough close behind me made me turn my head. I saw a girl sitting on a stone bench near; she was bent over a book, on the perusal of which she seemed intent: from where I stood I could see the title-it was“Rasselas;”a name that struck me as strange, and consequently attractive. In turning a leaf she happened to look up, and I said to her directly-

“Is your book interesting?”I had already formed the intention of asking her to lend it to me some day.

“I like it,”she answered, after a pause of a second or two, during which she examined me.

“What is it about?”I continued. I hardly know where I found the hardihood thus to open a conversation with a stranger; the step was contrary to my nature and habits: but I think her occupation touched a chord of sympathy somewhere; for I too liked reading, though of a frivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend the serious or substantial.

“You may look at it,”replied the girl, offering me the book.

I did so; a brief examination convinced me that the contents were less taking than the title:“Rasselas”looked dull to my trifling taste; I saw nothing about fairies, nothing about genii; no bright variety seemed spread over the closely-printed pages. I returned it to her;she received it quietly, and without saying anything she was about to relapse into her former studious mood: again I ventured to disturb her-

“Can you tell me what the writing on that stone over the door means? What is Lowood Institution?”

“This house where you are come to live.”

“And why do they call it Institution? Is it in any way different from other schools?”

“It is partly a charity-school: you and I, and all the rest of us, are charity-children. I suppose you are an orphan: are not either your father or your mother dead?”

“Both died before I can remember.”

“Well, all the girls here have lost either one or both parents, and this is called an institution for educating orphans.”

“Do we pay no money? Do they keep us for nothing?”

“We pay, or our friends pay, fifteen pounds a year for each.”

“Then why do they call us charity-children?”

“Because fifteen pounds is not enough for board and teaching, and the deficiency is supplied by subscription.”

“Who subscribes?”

“Different benevolent-minded ladies and gentlemen in this neighbourhood and in London.”

“Who was Naomi Brocklehurst?”

“The lady who built the new part of this house as that tablet records, and whose son overlooks and directs everything here.”

“Why?”

“Because he is treasurer and manager of the establishment.”

“Then this house does not belong to that tall lady who wears a watch, and who said we were to have some bread and cheese?”

“To Miss Temple? Oh, no! I wish it did: she has to answer to Mr. Brocklehurst for all she does. Mr. Brocklehurst buys all our food and all our clothes.”

“Does he live here?”

“No-two miles off, at a large hall.”

“Is he a good man?”

“He is a clergyman, and is said to do a great deal of good.”

“Did you say that tall lady was called Miss Temple?”

“Yes.”

“And what are the other teachers called?”

“The one with red cheeks is called Miss Smith; she attends to the work, and cuts out-for we make our own clothes, our frocks, and pelisses, and everything; the little one with black hair is Miss Scatcherd; she teaches history and grammar, and hears the second class repetitions;and the one who wears a shawl, and has a pocket-handkerchief tied to her side with a yellow ribband, is Madame Pierrot: she comes from Lisle, in France, and teaches French.”

“Do you like the teachers?”

“Well enough.”

“Do you like the little black one, and the Madame —? —I cannot pronounce her name as you do.”

“Miss Scatcherd is hasty-you must take care not to offend her; Madame Pierrot is not a bad sort of person.”

“But Miss Temple is the best-isn't she?”

“Miss Temple is very good and very clever; she is above the rest, because she knows far more than they do.”

“Have you been long here?”

“Two years.”

“Are you an orphan?”

“My mother is dead.”

“Are you happy here?”

“You ask rather too many questions. I have given you answers enough for the present:now I want to read.”

But at that moment the summons sounded for dinner; all re-entered the house. The odour which now filled the refectory was scarcely more appetising than that which had regaled our nostrils at breakfast: the dinner was served in two huge tin-plated vessels,whence rose a strong steam redolent of rancid fat. I found the mess to consist of indifferent potatoes and strange shreds of rusty meat, mixed and cooked together. Of this preparation a tolerably abundant plateful was apportioned to each pupil. I ate what I could, and wondered within myself whether every day's fare would be like this.

After dinner, we immediately adjourned to the schoolroom: lessons recommenced, and were continued till five o'clock.

The only marked event of the afternoon was, that I saw the girl with whom I had conversed in the verandah dismissed in disgrace by Miss Scatcherd from a history class, and sent to stand in the middle of the large schoolroom. The punishment seemed to me in a high degree ignominious, especially for so great a girl-she looked thirteen or upwards. I expected she would show signs of great distress and shame; but to my surprise she neither wept nor blushed: composed, though grave, she stood, the central mark of all eyes.“How can she bear it so quietly-so firmly?”I asked of myself.“Were I in her place, it seems to me I should wish the earth to open and swallow me up. She looks as if she were thinking of something beyond her punishment-beyond her situation: of something not round her nor before her. I have heard of day-dreams-is she in a day-dream now? Her eyes are fixed on the floor, but I am sure they do not see it-her sight seems turned in, gone down into her heart: she is looking at what she can remember, I believe; not at what is really present. I wonder what sort of a girl she is-whether good or naughty.”

Soon after five p.m. we had another meal, consisting of a small mug of coffee, and half-a-slice of brown bread. I devoured my bread and drank my coffee with relish; but I should have been glad of as much more—I was still hungry. Half-an-hour's recreation succeeded, then study; then the glass of water and the piece of oat-cake, prayers, and bed. Such was my first day at Lowood.

一月十九日早晨，还没到五点钟，贝茜就端着蜡烛走进了我的小屋，发现我已经起床，快要穿好了。她进来前半小时，我就已经起了床，洗了脸，借着正在沉落的半轮明月穿上了衣服。月光透过小床边狭窄的窗户溪流般照进来。那天我要乘坐早晨六点钟经过院子门口的马车离开盖茨黑德府。只有贝茜一个人起来。她已经在保育室生起了火，眼下正着手给我做早饭。孩子们一想到要出门就激动，没有几个能吃下饭，我也吃不下。贝茜硬让我喝了几口她为我准备的热奶，吃了几口面包，但无济于事，所以她就用纸包了一些饼干，放进了我的包里，随后，她帮我穿上长上衣，戴上帽子，她自己也裹上了一条披肩。我和她离开了保育室。我们经过里德太太的卧室时，她说：“你想进去跟太太道别吗？”

“不，贝茜。昨晚你下楼吃晚饭时，她来到我的小床边，说我早上不用去打扰她，也不用去打扰我的表哥表姐。她还吩咐我要记住，她始终是我最好的朋友，因此说起她时要感激她。”

“你说了什么，小姐？”

“什么也没说。我用床单捂住脸，背对着她，转向墙壁，”

“那样做是不对的，简小姐。”

“那样做完全没错，贝茜。你的太太就不是我的朋友，她是我的敌人。”

“噢，简小姐！不要这样说！”

“再见，盖茨黑德府！”我们穿过大厅，走出前门时，我大声说道。

月亮沉落，天色黢黑。贝茜提着灯笼，灯光照在刚刚解冻的湿漉漉的台阶和碎石路上。冬天的早晨阴冷。我沿着车道匆匆走去时，牙齿冷得打战。门房里亮着灯光。我们到达那儿时，发现门房的妻子正在生火。前一天晚上我的箱子就捆好绳子，提下了楼，放在门边。这时还差几分钟不到六点。不久以后，钟敲响了，远处传来滚滚的马车声，宣告马车就要到了。我走到门口，望着车灯飞快地穿破黑暗，正在靠近。

“她一个人走吗？”门房的妻子问。

“是的。”

“离这儿有多远？”

“五十英里。”

“多远的路程啊！我纳闷里德太太让她独自走得这么远，都不担心。”

马车停住，就在大门口，四匹马拉着，车顶坐满了乘客。护车人和马车夫大声催我赶快上车。我的箱子被拎了上去，我被从贝茜的脖子上拽下来，因为我抱着她的脖子亲吻。

“一定要好好照应她，”护车人把我抱起放进车里时，贝茜对他大声说道。

“唉，唉！”那个人答道。车门砰地关上了。一个声音大喊道：“好吧。”随后，我们就驱车前行。就这样我跟贝茜和盖茨黑德府断绝了联系，就这样旋风般被卷到了我当时认为遥远神秘的陌生地方。

我对路上的行程记得不多，我只知道那天对我来说特别漫长，我们好像走了几百英里。我们穿过好几个城镇，并在其中一个很大的城镇停下来。车夫卸下马，乘客们下车吃饭。我被带进一个客栈，护车人想要我吃饭，但是，我没有任何胃口，他把我留在一个大大的房间里，房间两端都有一个壁炉，天花板上挂着一盏枝形吊灯，高高的墙壁上有一间小小的红色陈列室，里面放满了乐器。我在这儿来回走了好长时间，感觉怪怪的，非常害怕有人进来绑架我，因为我相信有绑匪，他们的所作所为常常出现在贝茜火炉边讲的故事里。护车人终于回来了，我又一次被塞进了马车，我的保护人登上他自己的座位，吹起了空洞的号角，车子嘎吱嘎吱驶过了L镇的“石子街”。

下午，天气潮湿，有些薄雾。当白昼消逝、进入黄昏时，我开始感到我们离开盖茨黑德府真的很远了。我们不再经过城镇，乡村景色也变了，一座座灰蒙蒙的大山冈升起在地平线上。暮色渐深，我们驶进了一道山谷，那儿的树林黑黢黢的。夜幕笼罩这儿的景色之后很久，我听到狂风在树林里呼啸。

我受到那种声音的催眠，终于倒头睡去了。我没睡多久，车子突然停下，惊醒了我。马车门开了，一个仆人模样的人站在门边。我借着灯光，看到了她的脸庞和衣服。

“有一个叫简·爱的小女孩吗？”她问。我回答说“有”，接着就被抱了出去，箱子也递了下来，随后马车就立刻开走了。

因为坐的时间长，所以我身体僵硬，马车的响声和运转让我昏昏沉沉。我定了定神，环顾四周。风雨和黑暗弥漫空中。不过，我模糊看到自己面前有一堵墙，墙上有一扇门，我跟新向导穿过这个门。她关上门，随手锁上。现在可以看到一座房子或几座房子——因为那个建筑伸展得很远——上面有好多窗户，其中几扇亮着灯。我们走上一条水花四溅的宽阔石子路，后来又进了一扇门，接着，仆人领我穿过一个通道，走进一个生火的房间，就留下我走了。

我站在那儿，在火焰上方暖着冻木的手指，随后环顾四周，没有蜡烛，但壁炉里摇曳的火光不时地照出糊过壁纸的墙壁、地毯、窗帘和锃亮的红木家具。这是一间客厅，尽管没有盖茨黑德府客厅那样宽敞或辉煌，但足够舒适。我正莫名其妙地辨认墙壁上一幅画的主题，这时门开了，一个人提着一盏灯走了进来，另一个人紧随其后。

第一个是一位身材高挑的女人，黑黑的头发，乌黑的眼睛，前额白皙宽大，她的身段一部分裹在披肩里，神情严肃，体态挺直。

“孩子这么小，就被独自送来了，”说着，她把蜡烛放在桌子上，专心致志地打量了我一两分钟，随后进一步补充道——

“最好立刻把她放到床上，看来她累了。你累吗？”她把手放在我的肩上问道。

“有点儿，太太。”

“肯定也饿了。米勒小姐，让她吃些晚饭，再上床睡觉。你是第一次离开父母亲来上学吗，小姑娘？”

我对她解释说我没有父母亲。她问他们已经去世多久了，然后问我几岁了，我叫什么名字，我会不会读书写字，会不会做点儿针线活。随后，她用食指轻轻地摸了摸我的脸颊说，她希望我成为一个好孩子，就打发我跟米勒小姐一块走了。

离开我的那位小姐可能大约二十九岁，跟我一起走的那位好像比她小几岁。前者的声音、神情和风度给我留下了深刻印象。米勒小姐比较平凡，尽管疲惫不堪，但面色红润，步态和动作匆匆，好像手上总有好多事儿要做。她好像是一个助理老师，后来我发现她的确是这样。我被她领着在一个布局不均的大楼里从一个房间走到另一个房间，从一条过道走到另一条过道。我们穿过房子里这寂静无声、有些沉闷的地方，走出来，突然听到了好多嗡嗡的说话声，不久便走进了一个又宽又长的房间，两端各放着两张大松木桌子，每张桌子上点着两支蜡烛，一群年龄从九岁、十岁到二十岁年龄不等的女孩都围着桌子坐在长凳上。通过昏暗的烛光，我看到她们好像多得数不清，尽管实际上超不过八十人。她们一律穿着样式奇怪的棕色面料上衣，围着漂白亚麻布长连胸围裙。这是学习的时间，她们正忙着精读第二天的功课，我听到的嗡嗡声就是她们一起低声反复读书产生的结果。

米勒小姐示意让我坐在门边的一条长凳上，随后走到这个长房间的顶头，大声喊道——

“班长们，收好书本，放到一边！”四个高个女孩从各自的桌边站起来，绕了一圈，把书收起放好。米勒小姐又发出了命令——

“班长们，把晚饭托盘端来！”

高个女孩们走出去，很快就回来了，每人端着一只托盘，托盘上放着一份份不知什么东西，各个托盘中央是一大罐水和一只大杯子。那一份份东西都顺序传递，喜欢喝水的人还喝了口水，大杯子是大家公用的。轮到我时，因为口渴，我喝了些水，但没有去碰食物，激动和疲乏使我没有胃口。然而，我现在看到那是一块薄燕麦饼，平分了几小块。

吃完饭后，米勒小姐念了祷告，各班排成纵队出发，两个两个走上楼梯。这时，我疲惫不堪，几乎没有注意到寝室是什么样子，只看到它像教室一样很长。今天晚上我要跟米勒小姐睡一张床，她帮我脱掉衣服。我躺下时，瞥了一眼一长排一长排的床，每张床很快就睡满了两个人，十分钟后那盏唯一的灯也熄灭了。在寂静和完全黑暗中，我进入了梦乡。

夜飞快地过去了。我太累了，连梦也没做，我只醒来过一次，听到狂风阵阵，大雨倾盆，而且明白米勒小姐睡在我的身边。我又睁开眼时，只听到铃声大作。女孩们已经起床，穿起了衣服。天光还没放亮，房间里点着一两支灯芯草蜡烛。我也无奈地起了床，天气寒冷，我浑身哆嗦着尽力穿好衣服，等脸盆空闲时洗脸。我并没有马上等到，因为六个女孩仅有一只脸盆，放在楼下房间中央的架子上。铃声又响了起来。大家都排好队，两个两个按顺序走下楼梯，进入寒冷昏暗的教室。米勒小姐在这儿念了祷告，随后大声喊道——

“分班！”

接下来引起了几分钟的大声喧哗，米勒小姐反复高声叫喊：“安静！”“秩序！”等喧哗声平息之后，我看到她们都排成了四个半圆形，站在四把椅子前面，这四把椅子放在四张桌边，她们手里都拿着书，一本像《圣经》一样的大书放在空椅面前的每张桌子上。停顿了几秒钟，随后充满了低沉模糊的嗡嗡声。米勒小姐从一个班走到另一个班，镇住了这种模糊的声音。

远处的铃声叮当作响。马上有三位女士走进了房间，各自走到一张桌边坐下来。米勒小姐坐在离门最近的第四把空椅上。椅子四周围着一群年龄最小的孩子。我被叫到了这个低级班，排在末位。

功课现在开始了，首先是反复念当天的祷告，接着是念几篇经文，最后是念《圣经》的章节，这持续了一个小时。到这个练习结束时，天已经完全亮了。这时，不知疲倦的铃声第四次响起。各个班级整好队伍，大步走进另一个房间去吃早饭。想到要有东西吃，我是多么开心！前一天吃得很少，我现在都快饿昏了。

食堂是一个低矮昏暗的大屋，两张长桌上放着两只烟熏火燎的盆子，盆里是热气腾腾的东西，而让我扫兴的是，散发出的气味却绝不诱人。饭味钻进那些必须要吃的人的鼻孔时，我看到她们都露出不满的表情，那些站在排头第一班的高个女孩开始小声嘀咕——

“真恶心！粥又烧煳了！”

“安静！”一个声音突然喊道。说话的不是米勒小姐，而是一个高年级老师。只见她小小的个子，黑黑的皮肤，穿着漂亮，但脸色有些郁闷。她站在桌首，另一个更丰满的女人站在另一张桌首。我寻找第一天晚上见过的那个女人，但没有找到，看不到她的影子。米勒小姐坐在了我坐的那张桌子下首。一位样子奇怪、像外国人的年长女士——我后来发现她是法语老师——在另一张餐桌的相应位置坐下。大家进行了长长的饭前感恩祷告，唱了一首圣歌，随后，一个仆人给老师们送来了茶点，早餐开始。

我现在饿得头昏眼花，就狼吞虎咽地吃了一两匙子，没有去想是什么味道，但是，最初的饥饿感减弱之后，我发现自己手里拿的东西令人作呕，烧煳的粥几乎像烂马铃薯一样糟糕，连饥饿本身也很快对它厌恶了。匙子慢慢地移动。我看到每个女孩都尝了尝自己的食物，尽力想把它咽下，但大多都很快放弃了努力。早餐结束了，谁也没有吃。我们进行了感恩祷告，对没有得到的东西表示感谢，唱了第二首圣歌，就离开食堂，向教室走去。我是最后一批走出去。经过那些餐桌时，我看到一位老师舀了一碗粥，尝了尝，她看着其他人，她们的脸上都露出了不快的神色，其中一个矮胖的老师低声说道——

“东西糟透了！真丢人！”

一刻钟过后，才又开始上课。在这段时间里，教室里乱成了一锅粥，因为这段时间好像允许更自由地大声说话，所以她们就使用了自己的基本权利。整个谈话都围绕着早餐，大家一个个都大骂了一阵。可怜的人！这就是她们拥有的唯一安慰。米勒小姐眼下是教室里唯一的一位老师。一群大女孩围站在她的身边，严肃愠怒地打着手势说话。我听到有人说起了布罗克赫斯特先生的名字，听到这话，米勒小姐不以为然地摇了摇头，但她没有做出多大努力去制止这种普遍的愤怒，毫无疑问，她也有同感。

教室里的钟表敲响了九点，米勒小姐离开围着她的人群，站到教室中央叫道——

“安静！到你们的座位上去！”

纪律占了上风。不到五分钟，混乱的人群就井然有序，相对的安静平息了嘈杂的人声。高年级老师现在都重新准时就位。但是，所有的人好像都在等待。八十个女孩坐在房间两边的长凳上，身体挺直，一动不动。她们似乎是一群聚在一起的怪人，头发都简单地从脸上梳到后面，不见一绺鬈发；她们穿着褐色衣服，衣领很高，脖子上围着一条窄领布，罩衣前面系着一只亚麻布口袋（形状像苏格兰高地人的钱包），用作工作袋，所有人都穿着羊毛长袜和乡下人做的鞋子，鞋上装有铜扣。二十多个这身装束的人已是发育成熟的女孩子——更确切地说，是年轻女人。这对她们很不合适，因此即使最漂亮的，样子也怪怪的。

我还在看着她们，也不时地端详那些老师——确切地说，没有一个让我高兴的，因为那个矮胖的有点儿粗俗，那个黑的有点儿凶，那个外国人模样的严厉怪异，米勒小姐真可怜！只见她脸色发紫，饱经风霜，过分劳累——当我的目光从一张脸移到另一张脸时，全校学生同时起立，好像被同一根弹簧带动似的。

这是怎么回事？我没有听到有人发出命令，感到迷惑不解。我还没有醒过神来，所有班级便又坐了下来。但是，所有的目光这时都转向了一点，我的目光也跟随大家目光的方向，然后看到了昨天晚上接待我的那个人。只见她站在长屋顶端的壁炉边上，房子两端都生了火。她神情严肃地默默俯视着两排女孩。米勒小姐走近，好像问了她一个问题，得到了回答后，又回到原地，大声说道——

“一班班长，去把地球仪拿来！”

这个指示正被执行时，那位女士慢慢地走过房间。我猜想，我专司敬重的器官相当发达，因为我现在还保持一种敬畏感，当时我的目光跟踪着她的脚步。眼下，在光天化日之下，看上去她个子高挑，皮肤白皙，身材匀称，褐色的眼睛有一种仁慈的光亮，长长的睫毛衬托出了她白皙的、大大的前额，两鬓的头发呈暗褐色，按照流行的样式束成了圆鬈发，当时光滑的发辫和长长的鬈发都还没有流行起来。她的衣服也是流行样式，紫色布料用一种黑丝绒西班牙饰边进行衬托。一只金表（当时手表不像现在这样普通）在她的腰带上闪闪发亮。为了使这幅画像完整，向读者补充精致的面容，即使她面色苍白，面容却很清晰，仪态和举止端庄大方，这样至少能用文字清晰获得坦普尔小姐外貌的准确印象——玛丽亚·坦普尔这个名字是我后来在受托送到教堂的祈祷书上看到的。

这个洛伍德的校长（这位女士就是干这个的）在放于其中一张桌上的两个地球仪前坐下来，把第一班的人召集到她的身边，开始上地理课。低年级班学生被那些老师叫去，反复上历史、语法等，持续了一个小时。接着是写作和算术。坦普尔小姐还给年龄大些的女孩们上音乐课。每堂课的持续时间是以钟表来测量，钟表终于敲响了十二点。校长站起来——

“我有话要对学生们讲，”她说。

课一结束，吵闹声早已爆发开来，但听到她的话，吵闹声就平息了。她继续说道——

“今天的早饭，你们都吃不下去，一定都饿了——我已经吩咐午饭给大家上面包和乳酪。”

老师们带着一种吃惊的神情望着她。

“这该由我负责。”她用解释的腔调对她们补充道，随后马上离开了房间。

不一会儿，面包和乳酪端了进来，分发给大家，全校都兴高采烈、精神振奋。这时传来了“到花园里去！”的命令。每个人都戴上了一顶粗糙的草帽，帽子上系着染色白棉布带子，披上灰色起绒粗呢斗篷。我也是同样的装束，跟着流动的人群，走向户外。

花园是一个宽阔的围场，四周是高高的围墙，看不到外面的景色。其中一边有一个带顶的游廊，一些宽阔的走道与中间的一块空地毗邻。这块地被分成了几十个小小的苗圃。这些苗圃作为花园，分配给学生们种植花草。每个苗圃都有一个主人。鲜花盛开时，这些苗圃肯定非常漂亮，但现在，一月接近尾声时，一切都是冬天荒芜和枯黄凋零的景象。我站在那儿，环顾四周，浑身颤抖。要是进行户外活动，这天气候恶劣，不过肯定没有雨，而是黄雾使天变得昏暗，脚下因昨天的水灾仍然透湿透湿的。比较强壮的女孩们跑来跑去，积极进行运动，但所有苍白瘦弱的女孩都挤在游廊上躲避风和取暖，浓雾透入到了她们颤抖的身体，我常常听到这些女孩一阵阵干咳声。

到目前为止，我没有对任何人说过话，好像也没有人注意到我。我孤零零地站在那儿，但对那种孤独感已经习惯了，这并没有使我感到多大压抑。我靠在游廊的柱子上，将灰色斗篷围住自己，尽力忘记外面刺骨的严寒，忘记肚子里折磨我的饥饿，专心去观察和思考。我的思考模模糊糊、零零碎碎，不值得记录。我几乎还不知道自己在哪儿，盖茨黑德府和过去的生活好像飘到了无限遥远的地方，现实模糊奇怪，未来我又猜不出来。我环顾了一下修道院般的花园，然后又抬头看了看房子——这是一座大楼，一半好像灰旧，另一半却全是新的。新的一半包含教室和寝室，竖框花格窗灯光明亮，有一种教堂的外观。门上方的一块碑碣上面刻着这样的文字：——

“洛伍德义学。——这部分由本郡布罗克赫斯特府的内奥米·布罗克赫斯特重建于公元某某年。‘让你们的光这样照在人们的面前，他们会看到你们的善行，赞美天上的圣父。'——《马太福音》第五章第十六节。”

我一遍又一遍地念着这些字，感到它们会有自己的解释，却无法完全理解它们的含义。我还在沉思“义学”的意义，尽力想理解开头几个字和经文之间的联系，这时我身后传来一声咳嗽，这使我转过头，只见一个女孩坐在附近的石凳上。她正在弯腰看一本书，好像看得非常专心。我从站立的地方可以看到这本书的书名——是《拉塞拉斯》。这个名字听上去陌生，因此吸引了我。她翻书时碰巧抬起头，我就直接说道——

“你的书有趣吗？”我已经在脑海里有了有朝一日请她把书借给我的念头。

“我喜欢。”她停顿了一两秒钟，端详了我一下，答道。

“上面说什么？”我继续问道。我简直不知道自己从哪儿来的大胆和勇气，竟然跟一个陌生人开始攀谈起来。这样做跟我的本性和习惯背道而驰。但是，我认为她的专心致志在某个地方触动了我的共鸣之弦，因为我也喜欢读书，尽管是肤浅幼稚的一种，我无法消化或理解那些严肃充实的书。

“你可以看一下。”这个女孩一边回答，一边把书递给我。

我就这样做了，简短看了看，深信书的内容并不像书名那样吸引人。对我微不足道的品位来说，《拉塞拉斯》显得无趣。我看不到仙女，也看不到妖魔鬼怪。密密麻麻地印刷的书页上没有鲜艳多姿的东西。我把书还给她，她默默地接住，一言不发，准备再次专心看书，我又冒昧打扰了她——

“你能告诉我门上方那块石匾上写的是什么意思吗？洛伍德义学是什么？”

“就是你来住的这座房子。”

“那他们为什么叫它义学呢？跟其他学校有什么区别吗？”

“这是半慈善学校。你和我，以及我们其他人，都是慈善学校的孩子。我想你也是孤儿。你的父亲或母亲死了吗？”

“我还不记事时，他们俩就去世了。”

“唉，这儿的所有女孩不是失去了父亲就是失去了母亲，要么就是父母双亡，所以这儿被称为教育孤儿的义学。”

“我们不交钱吗？他们白养我们吗？”

“我们交或我们的朋友交，每人一年十五英镑。”

“那他们为什么叫我们慈善学校的孩子？”

“因为十五英镑不付伙食和学费，差额由捐款来补。”

“谁捐款？”

“这附近地区和伦敦的心地慈善的太太们和先生们。”

“内奥米·布罗克赫斯特是谁？”

“就像匾上写的那样，是建造这部分新房子的那位女士，她的儿子监管这儿的一切。”

“为什么？”

“因为他是这个学校的司库兼管事。”

“这么说，这座楼不属于那个戴着手表说我们可以吃面包和奶酪的高个女士？”“属于坦普尔小姐？噢，不是！我真希望是。她所做的一切必须对布罗克赫斯特先生负责。我们所有吃的穿的都是布罗克赫斯特先生买的。”

“他住在这儿吗？”

“不——是在两英里外的一座大宅里。”

“他是一个好人吗？”

“他是一位牧师，据说做了一大堆好事。”

“你是说那个高个女士名叫坦普尔小姐？”

“是的。”

“其他老师们都叫什么名字？”

“那个红脸蛋的叫史密斯小姐，她管理劳动和裁剪——因为我们的衣服自己做，外衣、大衣，每件东西都自己做；那个黑头发的小个子叫斯堪切德小姐，她教历史和语法，听二班朗诵；那个戴披肩、用黄缎带把手帕系在腰上的人叫皮耶罗夫人，她来自法国莱尔，教法语。”

“你喜欢这些老师吗？”

“相当喜欢。”

“你喜欢那个小黑个和某某太太吗？——她的名字，我发不成你那样的音。”

“斯堪切德小姐急躁——你必须小心，不要冒犯她；皮耶罗太太这人不错。”

“不过，坦普尔小姐最好——不是吗？”

“坦普尔小姐人很好，也很聪明。她在其他人之上，因为她比她们懂得要多得多。”

“你到这儿很久了吗？”

“两年了。”

“你是孤儿吗？”

“我的母亲死了。”

“你在这儿开心吗？”

“你问的问题有点儿太多了。我暂时给你的回答已经足够了。我现在要看书了。”

但这时，吃饭铃响了，大家都再次进屋。此刻，弥漫在食堂里的气味并不比早饭时刺激鼻孔的气味更能促进我们的食欲。午饭盛在两只大大的马口铁桶里，桶里热气腾腾，冒出一股强烈的腐臭肥肉的气味。我发现食物是烂土豆和几小片怪怪的腐肉混在一起做成的。每个学生都分到了相当大的一盘。我尽力吃着，心里想是不是每天的食物都像这样。

午饭后，我们马上去教室，又开始上课，一直持续到五点钟。

下午引人注目的唯一事件就是，我看到了那个曾在游廊上跟我交谈的女孩非常丢人，被斯堪切德小姐撵出了历史课堂，打发她站在大教室中央。在我看来，这种惩罚真是太丢人了，尤其是对她这样的大女孩来说——看上去她有十三岁或更大。我料想她会露出极其痛苦和羞愧的表情，但使我吃惊的是，她既没有哭泣，也没有脸红，她在众目睽睽之下站在那儿，尽管神情严肃，但镇定自若。“她怎么能那样平静——那样坚定地忍受呢？”我问自己，“要是我处在她的位置，在我看来我会盼望地球裂开，把我一口吞下去。看上去她好像在想着惩罚之外的什么事儿——她处境之外的事儿，想着既不在她身边又不在她面前的事儿。我听说过白日梦——她眼下是在做白日梦吗？她的眼睛盯着地板，但我敢说她视而不见——她的目光好像转向了体内，望着自己的内心。我想她是在看着她可以铭记的东西，而不是眼前真正存在的东西。我不知道她是哪种女孩——是好女孩还是淘气女孩。”

下午五点钟过后不久，我们又吃了一顿饭，包括一小杯咖啡和半片黑面包。我狼吞虎咽地吃了面包，津津有味地喝了咖啡。但是，要是再多些，我会非常高兴——我还很饿。接下来是半小时的娱乐活动，然后是学习，再然后是一杯水、一块燕麦饼、祷告和上床。这就是我在洛伍德的第一天。