“You cannot now wonder,” continued my
master, “that when you rose upon me so unexpectedly
last night, I had difficulty in believing you any
other than a mere voice and vision, something that
would melt to silence and annihilation, as the midnight
whisper and mountain echo had melted before.
Now, I thank God! I know it to be otherwise.
Yes, I thank God!”
He put me off his knee, rose, and reverently lifting
his hat from his brow, and bending his sightless eyes
to the earth, he stood in mute devotion. Only
the last words of the worship were audible.
“I thank my Maker, that, in the midst of judgment,
he has remembered mercy. I humbly entreat my
Redeemer to give me strength to lead henceforth a
purer life than I have done hitherto!”
Then he stretched his hand out to be led. I
took that dear hand, held it a moment to my lips,
then let it pass round my shoulder: being so
much lower of stature than he, I served both for his
prop and guide. We entered the wood, and wended
homeward.
Reader, I married him. A quiet wedding we had:
he and I, the parson and clerk, were alone present.
When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen
of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner
and John cleaning the knives, and I said —
“Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester
this morning.” The housekeeper and her
husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order
of people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate
a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger
of having one’s ears pierced by some shrill
ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent
of wordy wonderment. Mary did look up, and she
did stare at me: the ladle with which she was
basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did
for some three minutes hang suspended in air; and
for the same space of time John’s knives also
had rest from the polishing process: but Mary,
bending again over the roast, said only —
“Have you, Miss? Well, for sure!”
A short time after she pursued — “I
seed you go out with the master, but I didn’t
know you were gone to church to be wed;” and
she basted away. John, when I turned to him,
was grinning from ear to ear.
“I telled Mary how it would be,” he said:
“I knew what Mr. Edward” (John was an
old servant, and had known his master when he was
the cadet of the house, therefore, he often gave him
his Christian name) — “I knew what
Mr. Edward would do; and I was certain he would not
wait long neither: and he’s done right,
for aught I know. I wish you joy, Miss!”
and he politely pulled his forelock.
“Thank you, John. Mr. Rochester told me
to give you and Mary this.” I put into
his hand a five-pound note. Without waiting to
hear more, I left the kitchen. In passing the
door of that sanctum some time after, I caught the
words —
