那天，出去散步是不可能了。其实，早上我们还在光秃秃的灌木林中溜达了一个小时， 但从午饭时起（无客造访时，里德太太很早就用午饭）便刮起了冬日凛冽的寒风，随后阴云 密布，大雨滂沱，室外的活动也就只能作罢了。
我倒是求之不得。我向来不喜欢远距离散步，尤其在冷飕飕的下午。试想，阴冷的薄暮 时分回得家来，手脚都冻僵了，还要受到保姆贝茵的数落，又自觉体格不如伊丽莎、约翰和 乔治亚娜，心里既难过又惭愧，那情形委实可怕。
此时此刻，刚才提到的伊丽莎、约翰和乔治亚娜都在客厅里，簇拥着他们的妈妈。她则 斜倚在炉边的沙发上，身旁坐着自己的小宝贝们（眼下既未争吵也未哭叫），一副安享天伦 之乐的神态。而我呢，她恩准我不必同他们坐在一起了，说是她很遗憾，不得不让我独个儿 在一旁呆着。要是没有亲耳从贝茜那儿听到，并且亲眼看到，我确实在尽力养成一种比较单 纯随和的习性，活泼可爱的举止，也就是更开朗、更率直、更自然些，那她当真不让我享受 那些只配给予快乐知足的孩子们的特权了。
“贝茵说我干了什么啦？”我问。
“简，我不喜欢吹毛求疵或者刨根究底的人，更何况小孩子家这么跟大人顶嘴实在让人 讨厌。找个地方去坐着，不会和气说话就别张嘴。”
客厅的隔壁是一间小小的餐室，我溜了进去。里面有一个书架。不一会儿，我从上面拿 下一本书来，特意挑插图多的，爬上窗台，缩起双脚，像土耳其人那样盘腿坐下，将红色的 波纹窗帘几乎完全拉拢，把自己加倍隐蔽了起来。
在我右侧，绯红色窗幔的皱褶档住了我的视线；左侧，明亮的玻璃窗庇护着我，使我既 免受十一月阴沉天气的侵害，又不与外面的世界隔绝，在翻书的间隙，我抬头细看冬日下午 的景色。只见远方白茫茫一片云雾，近处湿漉漉一块草地和受风雨袭击的灌木。一阵持久而 凄厉的狂风，驱赶着如注的暴雨，横空归过。
我重又低头看书，那是本比尤伊克的《英国鸟类史》。文字部份我一般不感兴趣，但有 几页导言，虽说我是孩子，却不愿当作空页随手翻过。内中写到了海鸟生息之地；写到了只 有海鸟栖居的“孤零零的岩石和海岬”；写到了自南端林纳斯尼斯，或纳斯，至北角都遍布 小岛的挪威海岸：
那里，北冰洋掀起的巨大漩涡，咆哮在极地光秃凄凉约小岛四周。而大西洋的汹涌波 涛，泻入了狂暴的赫布里底群岛。
还有些地方我也不能看都不看，一翻而过，那就是书中提到的拉普兰、西伯利亚、斯匹 次卑尔根群岛、新地岛、冰岛和格陵兰荒凉的海岸。“广袤无垠的北极地带和那些阴凄凄的 不毛之地，宛若冰雪的储存库。千万个寒冬所积聚成的坚冰，像阿尔卑斯山的层层高峰，光 滑晶莹，包围着地极，把与日俱增的严寒汇集于一处。”我对这些死白色的地域，已有一定 之见，但一时难以捉摸，仿佛孩子们某些似懂非懂的念头，朦朦胧胧浮现在脑际，却出奇地 生动，导言中的这几页文字，与后面的插图相配，使兀立波涛中的孤岩，搁浅在荒凉 海岸上的破船，以及透过云带俯视着沉船的幽幽月光，更加含义隽永了。
我说不清一种什么样的情调弥漫在孤寂的墓地：刻有铭文的墓碑、一扇大门、两棵树、 低低的地平线、破败的围墙。一弯初升的新月，表明时候正是黄昏。
两艘轮船停泊在水波不兴的海面上，我以为它们是海上的鬼怪。
魔鬼从身后按住窃贼的背包，那模样实在可怕，我赶紧翻了过去。
一样可怕的是，那个头上长角的黑色怪物，独踞于岩石之上，远眺着一大群人围着绞 架。
每幅画都是一个故事、由于我理解力不足，欣赏水平有限，它们往往显得神秘莫测，但 无不趣味盎然，就像某些冬夜，贝茜碰巧心情不错时讲述的故事一样。遇到这种时候，贝茵 会把烫衣桌搬到保育室的壁炉旁边，让我们围着它坐好。她一面熨里德太太的网眼饰边，把 睡帽的边沿烫出褶裥来，一面让我们迫不及待地倾听她一段段爱情和冒险故事，这些片段取 自于古老的神话传说和更古老的歌谣，或者如我后来所发现，来自《帕美拉》和《莫兰伯爵 亨利》。
当时，我膝头摊着比尤伊克的书，心里乐滋滋的，至少是自得其乐，就怕别人来打扰。 但打扰来得很快，餐室的门开了。
“嘘！苦恼小姐！”约翰·里德叫唤着，随后又打住了，显然发觉房间里空无一人。
“见鬼，上哪儿去了呀？”他接着说。“丽茜！乔琪！”（喊着他的姐妹）“琼不在这 儿呐，告诉妈妈她窜到雨地里去了，这个坏畜牲！”
“幸亏我拉好了窗帘，”我想。我真希望他发现不了我的藏身之地。约翰·里德自己是 发现不了的，他眼睛不尖，头脑不灵。可惜伊丽莎从门外一探进头来，就说：
“她在窗台上，准没错，杰克。”
我立即走了出来，因为一想到要被这个杰克硬拖出去，身子便直打哆嗦。
什么事呀？”我问，既尴尬又不安。
“该说，什么事呀，里德‘少爷？’”便是我得到的回答。“我要你到这里来，”他在 扶手椅上坐下，打了个手势，示意我走过去站到他面前。
约翰·里德是个十四岁的小学生，比我大四岁，因为我才十岁。论年龄，他长得又大又 胖，但肤色灰暗，一付病态。脸盘阔，五官粗，四肢肥，手膨大。还喜欢暴饮暴食，落得个 肝火很旺，目光迟钝，两颊松弛。这阵子，他本该呆在学校里，可是他妈把他领了回来，住 上—、两个月，说是因为“身体虚弱”。但他老师迈尔斯先生却断言，要是家里少送些糕点 糖果去，他会什么都很好的，做母亲的心里却讨厌这么刻薄的话，而倾向于一种更随和的想 法，认为约翰是过于用功，或许还因为想家，才弄得那么面色蜡黄的。
约翰对母亲和姐妹们没有多少感情，而对我则很厌恶。他欺侮我，我，不是一周三 两次，也不是一天一两回，而是经常如此。弄得我每根神经都怕他，他一走运，我身子骨上 的每块肌肉都会收缩起来。有时我会被他吓得手足无措，因为面对他的恐吓和欺侮，我无处 哭诉。佣人们不愿站在我一边去得罪他们的少爷，而里德太太则装聋作哑，儿子打我骂我， 她熟视无睹，尽管他动不动当着她的面这样做，而背着她的时候不用说就更多了。
我对约翰已惯于逆来顺受，因此便走到他椅子跟前。他费了大约三分钟，拼命向我伸出 舌头，就差没有绷断舌根。我明白他会马上下手，一面担心挨打，一面凝视着这个就要动手 的人那付令人厌恶的丑态。我不知道他看出了我的心思没有，反正他二话没说，猛然间狠命 揍我。我一个踉跄，从他椅子前倒退了一两步才站稳身子。
“这是对你的教训，谁叫你刚才那么无礼跟妈妈顶嘴，”他说，“谁叫你鬼鬼祟祟躲到 窗帘后面，谁叫你两分钟之前眼光里露出那付鬼样子，你这耗子！”
我已经习惯于约翰·里德的谩骂，从来不愿去理睬，一心只想着加何去忍受辱骂以后必 然接踪而来的殴打。
“你躲在窗帘后面干什么？”他问。
“在看书。”
“把书拿来。”
我走回窗前把书取来。
“你没有资格动我们的书。妈妈说的，你靠别人养活你，你没有钱，你爸爸什么也没留 给你，你应当去讨饭，而不该同像我们这样体面人家的孩子一起过日子，不该同我们吃一样 的饭，穿妈妈掏钱给买的衣服。现在我要教训你，让你知道翻我们书架的好处。这些书都是 我的，连整座房子都是，要不过几年就归我了。滚，站到门边去，离镜子和窗子远些。”
我照他的话做了，起初并不知道他的用意。但是他把书举起，拿稳当了，立起身来摆出 要扔过来的架势时，我一声惊叫，本能地往旁边一闪，可是晚了、那本书己经扔过来，正好 打中了我，我应声倒下，脑袋撞在门上，碰出了血来，疼痛难忍。我的恐惧心理已经越过了 极限，被其他情感所代替。
“你是个恶毒残暴的孩子！”我说。“你像个杀人犯——你是个奴隶监工——你像罗马 皇帝！”
我读过哥尔斯密的《罗马史》，时尼禄、卡利古拉等人物已有自己的看法，并暗暗作过 类比，但决没有想到会如此大声地说出口来。
“什么！什么！”他大叫大嚷。“那是她说的吗？伊丽莎、乔治亚娜，你们可听见她说 了？我会不去告诉妈妈吗？不过我得先——”
他向我直冲过来，我只觉得他抓住了我的头发和肩膀，他跟一个拼老命的家伙扭打在一 起了。我发现他真是个暴君，是个杀人犯。我觉得一两滴血从头上顺着脖子淌下来，感到一 阵热辣辣的剧痛。这些感觉一时占了上风，我不再畏惧，而发疯似地同他对打起来。我不太 清楚自己的双手到底干了什么，只听得他骂我“耗子！耗子！”一面杀猪似地嚎叫着。他的 帮手近在咫尺，伊丽莎和乔治亚娜早已跑出去讨救兵，里德太太上了楼梯，来到现场，后面 跟随着贝茜和女佣艾博特。她们我们拉开了，我只听见她们说：
“哎呀！哎呀！这么大的气出在约翰少爷身上：”
“谁见过那么火冒三丈的！”
随后里德太太补充说：
“带她到红房子里去，关起来。”于是马上就有两双手按住了我，把我推上楼去。
I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.
The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, "She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner -- something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were -- she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children. "
"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked.
"Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent. "
A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.
Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.
I returned to my book -- Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of "the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape -
"Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked, melancholy isles Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides. "
Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with "the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space, -- that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold. " Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children's brains, but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.
I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide.
The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms.
The fiend pinning down the thief's pack behind him, I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror.
So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows.
Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour; and when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed's lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland.
With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast-room door opened.
"Boh! Madam Mope!" cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty.
"Where the dickens is she!" he continued. "Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the rain -- bad animal!"
"It is well I drew the curtain, " thought I; and I wished fervently he might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once -
"She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack. "
And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said Jack.
"What do you want?" I asked, with awkward diffidence.
"Say, 'What do you want, Master Reed?'" was the answer. "I want you to come here;" and seating himself in an arm-chair, he intimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him.
John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with a dingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month or two, "on account of his delicate health. " Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home; but the mother's heart turned from an opinion so harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John's sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, to pining after home.
John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind her back.
Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair.
"That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since, " said he, "and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!"
Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it; my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult.
"What were you doing behind the curtain?" he asked.
"I was reading. "
"Show the book. "
I returned to the window and fetched it thence.
"You have no business to take our books; you are a dependent, mama says; you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen's children like us, and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mama's expense. Now, I'll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for they ARE mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows. "
I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough, however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded.
"Wicked and cruel boy!" I said. "You are like a murderer -- you are like a slave-driver -- you are like the Roman emperors!"
I had read Goldsmith's History of Rome, and had formed my opinion of Nero, Caligula, &c. Also I had drawn parallels in silence, which I never thought thus to have declared aloud.
"What! what!" he cried. "Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, Eliza and Georgiana? Won't I tell mama? but first -- "
He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder: he had closed with a desperate thing. I really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer. I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle down my neck, and was sensible of somewhat pungent suffering: these sensations for the time predominated over fear, and I received him in frantic sort. I don't very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me "Rat! Rat!" and bellowed out aloud. Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs. Reed, who was gone upstairs: she now came upon the scene, followed by Bessie and her maid Abbot. We were parted: I heard the words -
"Dear! dear! What a fury to fly at Master John!"
"Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!"
Then Mrs. Reed subjoined -
"Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there. " Four hands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs.
我倒是求之不得。我向来不喜欢远距离散步，尤其在冷飕飕的下午。试想，阴冷的薄暮 时分回得家来，手脚都冻僵了，还要受到保姆贝茵的数落，又自觉体格不如伊丽莎、约翰和 乔治亚娜，心里既难过又惭愧，那情形委实可怕。
此时此刻，刚才提到的伊丽莎、约翰和乔治亚娜都在客厅里，簇拥着他们的妈妈。她则 斜倚在炉边的沙发上，身旁坐着自己的小宝贝们（眼下既未争吵也未哭叫），一副安享天伦 之乐的神态。而我呢，她恩准我不必同他们坐在一起了，说是她很遗憾，不得不让我独个儿 在一旁呆着。要是没有亲耳从贝茜那儿听到，并且亲眼看到，我确实在尽力养成一种比较单 纯随和的习性，活泼可爱的举止，也就是更开朗、更率直、更自然些，那她当真不让我享受 那些只配给予快乐知足的孩子们的特权了。
“贝茵说我干了什么啦？”我问。
“简，我不喜欢吹毛求疵或者刨根究底的人，更何况小孩子家这么跟大人顶嘴实在让人 讨厌。找个地方去坐着，不会和气说话就别张嘴。”
客厅的隔壁是一间小小的餐室，我溜了进去。里面有一个书架。不一会儿，我从上面拿 下一本书来，特意挑插图多的，爬上窗台，缩起双脚，像土耳其人那样盘腿坐下，将红色的 波纹窗帘几乎完全拉拢，把自己加倍隐蔽了起来。
在我右侧，绯红色窗幔的皱褶档住了我的视线；左侧，明亮的玻璃窗庇护着我，使我既 免受十一月阴沉天气的侵害，又不与外面的世界隔绝，在翻书的间隙，我抬头细看冬日下午 的景色。只见远方白茫茫一片云雾，近处湿漉漉一块草地和受风雨袭击的灌木。一阵持久而 凄厉的狂风，驱赶着如注的暴雨，横空归过。
我重又低头看书，那是本比尤伊克的《英国鸟类史》。文字部份我一般不感兴趣，但有 几页导言，虽说我是孩子，却不愿当作空页随手翻过。内中写到了海鸟生息之地；写到了只 有海鸟栖居的“孤零零的岩石和海岬”；写到了自南端林纳斯尼斯，或纳斯，至北角都遍布 小岛的挪威海岸：
那里，北冰洋掀起的巨大漩涡，咆哮在极地光秃凄凉约小岛四周。而大西洋的汹涌波 涛，泻入了狂暴的赫布里底群岛。
还有些地方我也不能看都不看，一翻而过，那就是书中提到的拉普兰、西伯利亚、斯匹 次卑尔根群岛、新地岛、冰岛和格陵兰荒凉的海岸。“广袤无垠的北极地带和那些阴凄凄的 不毛之地，宛若冰雪的储存库。千万个寒冬所积聚成的坚冰，像阿尔卑斯山的层层高峰，光 滑晶莹，包围着地极，把与日俱增的严寒汇集于一处。”我对这些死白色的地域，已有一定 之见，但一时难以捉摸，仿佛孩子们某些似懂非懂的念头，朦朦胧胧浮现在脑际，却出奇地 生动，导言中的这几页文字，与后面的插图相配，使兀立波涛中的孤岩，搁浅在荒凉 海岸上的破船，以及透过云带俯视着沉船的幽幽月光，更加含义隽永了。
我说不清一种什么样的情调弥漫在孤寂的墓地：刻有铭文的墓碑、一扇大门、两棵树、 低低的地平线、破败的围墙。一弯初升的新月，表明时候正是黄昏。
两艘轮船停泊在水波不兴的海面上，我以为它们是海上的鬼怪。
魔鬼从身后按住窃贼的背包，那模样实在可怕，我赶紧翻了过去。
一样可怕的是，那个头上长角的黑色怪物，独踞于岩石之上，远眺着一大群人围着绞 架。
每幅画都是一个故事、由于我理解力不足，欣赏水平有限，它们往往显得神秘莫测，但 无不趣味盎然，就像某些冬夜，贝茜碰巧心情不错时讲述的故事一样。遇到这种时候，贝茵 会把烫衣桌搬到保育室的壁炉旁边，让我们围着它坐好。她一面熨里德太太的网眼饰边，把 睡帽的边沿烫出褶裥来，一面让我们迫不及待地倾听她一段段爱情和冒险故事，这些片段取 自于古老的神话传说和更古老的歌谣，或者如我后来所发现，来自《帕美拉》和《莫兰伯爵 亨利》。
当时，我膝头摊着比尤伊克的书，心里乐滋滋的，至少是自得其乐，就怕别人来打扰。 但打扰来得很快，餐室的门开了。
“嘘！苦恼小姐！”约翰·里德叫唤着，随后又打住了，显然发觉房间里空无一人。
“见鬼，上哪儿去了呀？”他接着说。“丽茜！乔琪！”（喊着他的姐妹）“琼不在这 儿呐，告诉妈妈她窜到雨地里去了，这个坏畜牲！”
“幸亏我拉好了窗帘，”我想。我真希望他发现不了我的藏身之地。约翰·里德自己是 发现不了的，他眼睛不尖，头脑不灵。可惜伊丽莎从门外一探进头来，就说：
“她在窗台上，准没错，杰克。”
我立即走了出来，因为一想到要被这个杰克硬拖出去，身子便直打哆嗦。
什么事呀？”我问，既尴尬又不安。
“该说，什么事呀，里德‘少爷？’”便是我得到的回答。“我要你到这里来，”他在 扶手椅上坐下，打了个手势，示意我走过去站到他面前。
约翰·里德是个十四岁的小学生，比我大四岁，因为我才十岁。论年龄，他长得又大又 胖，但肤色灰暗，一付病态。脸盘阔，五官粗，四肢肥，手膨大。还喜欢暴饮暴食，落得个 肝火很旺，目光迟钝，两颊松弛。这阵子，他本该呆在学校里，可是他妈把他领了回来，住 上—、两个月，说是因为“身体虚弱”。但他老师迈尔斯先生却断言，要是家里少送些糕点 糖果去，他会什么都很好的，做母亲的心里却讨厌这么刻薄的话，而倾向于一种更随和的想 法，认为约翰是过于用功，或许还因为想家，才弄得那么面色蜡黄的。
约翰对母亲和姐妹们没有多少感情，而对我则很厌恶。他欺侮我，我，不是一周三 两次，也不是一天一两回，而是经常如此。弄得我每根神经都怕他，他一走运，我身子骨上 的每块肌肉都会收缩起来。有时我会被他吓得手足无措，因为面对他的恐吓和欺侮，我无处 哭诉。佣人们不愿站在我一边去得罪他们的少爷，而里德太太则装聋作哑，儿子打我骂我， 她熟视无睹，尽管他动不动当着她的面这样做，而背着她的时候不用说就更多了。
我对约翰已惯于逆来顺受，因此便走到他椅子跟前。他费了大约三分钟，拼命向我伸出 舌头，就差没有绷断舌根。我明白他会马上下手，一面担心挨打，一面凝视着这个就要动手 的人那付令人厌恶的丑态。我不知道他看出了我的心思没有，反正他二话没说，猛然间狠命 揍我。我一个踉跄，从他椅子前倒退了一两步才站稳身子。
“这是对你的教训，谁叫你刚才那么无礼跟妈妈顶嘴，”他说，“谁叫你鬼鬼祟祟躲到 窗帘后面，谁叫你两分钟之前眼光里露出那付鬼样子，你这耗子！”
我已经习惯于约翰·里德的谩骂，从来不愿去理睬，一心只想着加何去忍受辱骂以后必 然接踪而来的殴打。
“你躲在窗帘后面干什么？”他问。
“在看书。”
“把书拿来。”
我走回窗前把书取来。
“你没有资格动我们的书。妈妈说的，你靠别人养活你，你没有钱，你爸爸什么也没留 给你，你应当去讨饭，而不该同像我们这样体面人家的孩子一起过日子，不该同我们吃一样 的饭，穿妈妈掏钱给买的衣服。现在我要教训你，让你知道翻我们书架的好处。这些书都是 我的，连整座房子都是，要不过几年就归我了。滚，站到门边去，离镜子和窗子远些。”
我照他的话做了，起初并不知道他的用意。但是他把书举起，拿稳当了，立起身来摆出 要扔过来的架势时，我一声惊叫，本能地往旁边一闪，可是晚了、那本书己经扔过来，正好 打中了我，我应声倒下，脑袋撞在门上，碰出了血来，疼痛难忍。我的恐惧心理已经越过了 极限，被其他情感所代替。
“你是个恶毒残暴的孩子！”我说。“你像个杀人犯——你是个奴隶监工——你像罗马 皇帝！”
我读过哥尔斯密的《罗马史》，时尼禄、卡利古拉等人物已有自己的看法，并暗暗作过 类比，但决没有想到会如此大声地说出口来。
“什么！什么！”他大叫大嚷。“那是她说的吗？伊丽莎、乔治亚娜，你们可听见她说 了？我会不去告诉妈妈吗？不过我得先——”
他向我直冲过来，我只觉得他抓住了我的头发和肩膀，他跟一个拼老命的家伙扭打在一 起了。我发现他真是个暴君，是个杀人犯。我觉得一两滴血从头上顺着脖子淌下来，感到一 阵热辣辣的剧痛。这些感觉一时占了上风，我不再畏惧，而发疯似地同他对打起来。我不太 清楚自己的双手到底干了什么，只听得他骂我“耗子！耗子！”一面杀猪似地嚎叫着。他的 帮手近在咫尺，伊丽莎和乔治亚娜早已跑出去讨救兵，里德太太上了楼梯，来到现场，后面 跟随着贝茜和女佣艾博特。她们我们拉开了，我只听见她们说：
“哎呀！哎呀！这么大的气出在约翰少爷身上：”
“谁见过那么火冒三丈的！”
随后里德太太补充说：
“带她到红房子里去，关起来。”于是马上就有两双手按住了我，把我推上楼去。
I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.
The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, "She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner -- something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were -- she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children. "
"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked.
"Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent. "
A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.
Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.
I returned to my book -- Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of "the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape -
"Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls, Boils round the naked, melancholy isles Of farthest Thule; and the Atlantic surge Pours in among the stormy Hebrides. "
Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the bleak shores of Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland, with "the vast sweep of the Arctic Zone, and those forlorn regions of dreary space, -- that reservoir of frost and snow, where firm fields of ice, the accumulation of centuries of winters, glazed in Alpine heights above heights, surround the pole, and concentre the multiplied rigours of extreme cold. " Of these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own: shadowy, like all the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children's brains, but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray; to the broken boat stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.
I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide.
The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea, I believed to be marine phantoms.
The fiend pinning down the thief's pack behind him, I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror.
So was the black horned thing seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant crowd surrounding a gallows.
Each picture told a story; mysterious often to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever profoundly interesting: as interesting as the tales Bessie sometimes narrated on winter evenings, when she chanced to be in good humour; and when, having brought her ironing-table to the nursery hearth, she allowed us to sit about it, and while she got up Mrs. Reed's lace frills, and crimped her nightcap borders, fed our eager attention with passages of love and adventure taken from old fairy tales and other ballads; or (as at a later period I discovered) from the pages of Pamela, and Henry, Earl of Moreland.
With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy: happy at least in my way. I feared nothing but interruption, and that came too soon. The breakfast-room door opened.
"Boh! Madam Mope!" cried the voice of John Reed; then he paused: he found the room apparently empty.
"Where the dickens is she!" he continued. "Lizzy! Georgy! (calling to his sisters) Joan is not here: tell mama she is run out into the rain -- bad animal!"
"It is well I drew the curtain, " thought I; and I wished fervently he might not discover my hiding-place: nor would John Reed have found it out himself; he was not quick either of vision or conception; but Eliza just put her head in at the door, and said at once -
"She is in the window-seat, to be sure, Jack. "
And I came out immediately, for I trembled at the idea of being dragged forth by the said Jack.
"What do you want?" I asked, with awkward diffidence.
"Say, 'What do you want, Master Reed?'" was the answer. "I want you to come here;" and seating himself in an arm-chair, he intimated by a gesture that I was to approach and stand before him.
John Reed was a schoolboy of fourteen years old; four years older than I, for I was but ten: large and stout for his age, with a dingy and unwholesome skin; thick lineaments in a spacious visage, heavy limbs and large extremities. He gorged himself habitually at table, which made him bilious, and gave him a dim and bleared eye and flabby cheeks. He ought now to have been at school; but his mama had taken him home for a month or two, "on account of his delicate health. " Mr. Miles, the master, affirmed that he would do very well if he had fewer cakes and sweetmeats sent him from home; but the mother's heart turned from an opinion so harsh, and inclined rather to the more refined idea that John's sallowness was owing to over-application and, perhaps, to pining after home.
John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind her back.
Habitually obedient to John, I came up to his chair: he spent some three minutes in thrusting out his tongue at me as far as he could without damaging the roots: I knew he would soon strike, and while dreading the blow, I mused on the disgusting and ugly appearance of him who would presently deal it. I wonder if he read that notion in my face; for, all at once, without speaking, he struck suddenly and strongly. I tottered, and on regaining my equilibrium retired back a step or two from his chair.
"That is for your impudence in answering mama awhile since, " said he, "and for your sneaking way of getting behind curtains, and for the look you had in your eyes two minutes since, you rat!"
Accustomed to John Reed's abuse, I never had an idea of replying to it; my care was how to endure the blow which would certainly follow the insult.
"What were you doing behind the curtain?" he asked.
"I was reading. "
"Show the book. "
I returned to the window and fetched it thence.
"You have no business to take our books; you are a dependent, mama says; you have no money; your father left you none; you ought to beg, and not to live here with gentlemen's children like us, and eat the same meals we do, and wear clothes at our mama's expense. Now, I'll teach you to rummage my bookshelves: for they ARE mine; all the house belongs to me, or will do in a few years. Go and stand by the door, out of the way of the mirror and the windows. "
I did so, not at first aware what was his intention; but when I saw him lift and poise the book and stand in act to hurl it, I instinctively started aside with a cry of alarm: not soon enough, however; the volume was flung, it hit me, and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: my terror had passed its climax; other feelings succeeded.
"Wicked and cruel boy!" I said. "You are like a murderer -- you are like a slave-driver -- you are like the Roman emperors!"
I had read Goldsmith's History of Rome, and had formed my opinion of Nero, Caligula, &c. Also I had drawn parallels in silence, which I never thought thus to have declared aloud.
"What! what!" he cried. "Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, Eliza and Georgiana? Won't I tell mama? but first -- "
He ran headlong at me: I felt him grasp my hair and my shoulder: he had closed with a desperate thing. I really saw in him a tyrant, a murderer. I felt a drop or two of blood from my head trickle down my neck, and was sensible of somewhat pungent suffering: these sensations for the time predominated over fear, and I received him in frantic sort. I don't very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me "Rat! Rat!" and bellowed out aloud. Aid was near him: Eliza and Georgiana had run for Mrs. Reed, who was gone upstairs: she now came upon the scene, followed by Bessie and her maid Abbot. We were parted: I heard the words -
"Dear! dear! What a fury to fly at Master John!"
"Did ever anybody see such a picture of passion!"
Then Mrs. Reed subjoined -
"Take her away to the red-room, and lock her in there. " Four hands were immediately laid upon me, and I was borne upstairs.
我一路反抗，在我，这还是破天荒第一次。于是大大加深了贝茜和艾博特小姐对我的恶 感。我确实有点儿难以自制，或者如法国人所说，失常了。我意识到，因为一时的反抗，会 不得不遭受古怪离奇的惩罚。于是，像其他造反的奴隶一样，我横下一条心，决计不顾一切 了。
“抓住她的胳膊，艾博特小姐，她像一只发了疯的猫。”
“真丢脸！真丢脸！”这位女主人的侍女叫道，“多可怕的举动，爱小姐，居然打起小 少爷来了，他是你恩人的儿子：你的小主人！”
“主人，他怎么会是我主人，难道我是仆人不成？”
“不，你连仆人都不如。你不干事，吃白食。喂，坐下来，好好想一想你有多坏。”
这时候她们已把我拖进了里德太太所指的房间，推操到一条矮凳上，我不由自主地像弹 簧一样跳起来，但立刻被两双手按住了。
“要是你不安安稳稳坐着，我们可得绑住你了，”贝茜说，“艾博特小姐，把你的袜带 借给我，我那付会被她一下子绷断的。”
艾博特小姐转而从她粗壮的腿上，解下那条必不可少的带子。捆绑前的准备工作以及由 此而额外蒙受的耻辱，略微消解了我的激动情绪。
“别解啦，”我叫道，“我不动就是了。”
作为保证，我让双手紧挨着凳子。
“记住别动，”贝茜说，知道我确实已经平静下去，便松了手。随后她和艾博特小姐抱 臂而立，沉着脸，满腹狐疑地瞪着我，不相信我的神经还是正常似的。
“她以前从来没有这样过，”末了，贝茜转身对那位艾比盖尔说。
“不过她生性如此，”对方回答，“我经常跟太太说起我对这孩子的看法，太太也同 意。这小东西真狡猾，从来没见过像她这样年纪的小姑娘，有那么多鬼心眼的。”
贝茜没有搭腔，但不一会便对我说：
“小姐，你该明白，你受了里德太太的恩惠，是她养着你的。要是她把你赶走，你就得 进贫民院了。”
对她们这番活，我无话可说，因为听起来并不新鲜。我生活的最早记忆中就包含着类似 的暗示，这些责备我赖别人过活的话，己成了意义含糊的老调，叫人痛苦，让人难受，但又 不太好懂。艾博特小姐答话了：
“你不能因为太太好心把你同里德小姐和少爷一块抚养大，就以为自己与他们平等了。 他们将来会有很多很多钱，而你却一个子儿也不会有。你得学谦恭些，尽量顺着他们，这才 是你的本份。”
“我们同你说的全是为了你好，”贝茜补充道，口气倒并不严厉，“你做事要巴结些， 学得乖一点，那样也许可以把这当个家住下去，要是你意气用事，粗暴无礼，我敢肯定，太 太会把你撵走。”
“另外，”艾博特小姐说，“上帝会惩罚她，也许会在她耍啤气时，把她处死，死后她 能上哪儿呢，来，贝茜，咱们走吧，随她去。反正我是无论如何打动不了她啦。爱小姐，你 独个儿呆着的时候，祈祷吧。要是你不忏悔，说不定有个坏家伙会从烟囱进来，把你带 走。”
她们走了，关了门，随手上了锁。
红房子是间空余的卧房，难得有人在里面过夜。其实也许可以说，从来没有。除非盖茨 黑德府上偶而拥进一大群客人时，才有必要动用全部房间。但府里的卧室，数它最宽敞、最 堂皇了。—张红木床赫然立于房间正中，粗大的床柱上，罩着深红色锦缎帐幔，活像一个帐 篷。两扇终日窗帘紧闭的大窗，半掩在清一色织物制成的流苏之中。地毯是红的，床脚边的 桌子上铺着深红色的台布，墙呈柔和的黄褐色，略带粉红。大橱、梳妆台和椅子都是乌黑发 亮的红木做的。床上高高地叠着褥垫和枕头，上面铺着雪白的马赛布床罩，在周围深色调陈 设的映衬下，白得眩目。几乎同样显眼的是床头边一把铺着坐垫的大安乐椅，一样的白色， 前面还放着一只脚凳，在我看来，它像一个苍白的宝座。
房子里难得生火，所以很冷；因为远离保育室和厨房，所以很静；又因为谁都知道很少 有人进去，所以显得庄严肃穆。只有女佣每逢星期六上这里来，把一周内静悄悄落在镜子上 和家具上的灰尘抹去。还有里德太太本人，隔好久才来一次，查看大橱里某个秘密抽屉里的 东西。这里存放着各类羊皮文件，她的首饰盒，以及她已故丈夫的肖像。上面提到的最后几 句话，给红房子带来了一种神秘感，一种魔力，因而它虽然富丽堂皇，却显得分外凄清。
里德先生死去已经九年了，他就是在这间房子里咽气的，他的遗体在这里让人瞻仰，他 的棺材由殡葬工人从这里抬走。从此之后，这里便始终弥漫着一种阴森森的祭奠氛围，所以 不常有人闯进来。
里德先生死去已经九年了，他就是在这间房子里咽气的，他的遗体在这里让人瞻仰，他 的棺材由殡葬工人从这里抬走。从此之后，这里便始终弥漫着一种阴森森的祭奠氛围，所以 不常有人闯进来。
贝茜和刻薄的艾博特小姐让我一动不动坐着的，是一条软垫矮凳，摆在靠近大理石壁炉 的地方。我面前是高耸的床，我右面是黑漆漆的大橱，橱上柔和、斑驳的反光，使镶板的光 泽摇曳变幻。我左面是关得严严实实的窗子，两扇窗子中间有一面大镜子，映照出床和房间 的空旷和肃穆。我吃不准他们锁了门没有，等到敢于走动时，便起来看个究竟。哎呀，不 错，比牢房锁得还紧呐。返回原地时，我必须经过大镜子跟前。我的目光被吸引住了，禁不 住探究起镜中的世界来。在虚幻的映像中，一切都显得比现实中更冷落、更阴沉。那个陌生 的小家伙瞅着我，白白的脸上和胳膊上都蒙上了斑驳的阴影，在—切都凝滞时，唯有那双明 亮恐惧的眼睛在闪动，看上去真像是一个幽灵。我觉得她像那种半仙半人的小精灵，恰如贝 茵在夜晚的故事中所描绘的那样，从沼泽地带山蕨丛生的荒谷中冒出来，现身于迟归的旅行 者眼前。我回到丁我的矮凳上。
这时候我相信起迷信来了，但并没有到了完全听凭摆布的程度，我依然热血沸腾，反叛 的奴隶那种苦涩情绪依然激励着我。往事如潮、在我脑海中奔涌，如果我不加以遏制，我就 不会对阴暗的现实屈服。
约翰·里德的专横霸道、他姐妹的高傲冷漠、他母亲的厌恶、仆人们的偏心，像一口混 沌的水井中黑色的沉淀物，一古脑儿泛起在我烦恼不安的心头。
为什么我总是受苦，总是遭人白眼，总是让人告状，永远受到责备呢？为什么我永远不 能讨人喜欢？为什么我尽力博取欢心，却依然无济于事呢？伊丽莎自私任性，却受到尊敬； 乔治亚娜好使性子，心肠又毒，而且强词夺理目空一切，偏偏得到所有人的纵容。她的美 貌，她红润的面颊，金色的卷发，使得她人见人爱，一俊便可遮百丑。至于约翰，没有人同 他顶撞，更不用说教训他了，虽然他什么坏事都干：捻断鸽子的头颈，弄死小孔雀，放狗去 咬羊，采摘温室中的葡萄，掐断暖房上等花木的嫩芽。有时还叫他母亲“老姑娘”，又因为 她皮肤黝黑像他自己而破口大骂。他蛮横地与母亲作对，经常撕毁她的丝绸服装，而他却依 然是“她的宝贝蛋”。而我不敢有丝毫闪失，干什么都全力以赴，人家还是骂我淘气鬼，讨 厌坯，骂我阴丝丝，贼溜溜，从早上骂到下午，从下午骂到晚上。
我因为挨了打、跌了交，头依然疼痛，依然流着血。约翰肆无忌惮地打我，却不受责 备，而我不过为了免遭进一步无理殴打，反抗了一下，便成了众矢之的。
“不公呵，不公！”我的理智呼喊着。在痛苦的刺激下我的理智变得早熟，化作了一种 短暂的力量。决心也同样鼓动起来，激发我去采取某种奇怪的手段，来摆脱难以忍受的压 迫，譬如逃跑，要是不能奏效，那就不吃不喝，活活饿死。
那个阴沉的下午，我心里多么惶恐不安！我的整个脑袋如一团乱麻，我的整颗心在反 抗：然而那场内心斗争又显得多么茫然，多么无知啊！我无法回答心底那永无休止的问题— —为什么我要如此受苦。此刻，在相隔——我不说多少年以后，我看清楚了。
我在盖茨黑德府上格格不入。在那里我跟谁都不像。同里德太太、她的孩子、她看中的 家仆，都不融洽。他们不爱我，说实在我也一样不爱他们。他们没有必要热情对待一个与自 已合不来的家伙，一个无论是个性、地位，还是嗜好都同他们泾渭分明的异己；一个既不能 为他们效劳，也不能给他们增添欢乐的废物；一个对自己的境界心存不满而又蔑视他们想法 的讨厌家伙。我明白，如果我是一个聪明开朗、漂亮顽皮、不好侍候的孩子，即使同样是寄 人篱下，同样是无亲无故，里德太太也会对我的处境更加宽容忍让；她的孩子们也会对我亲 切热情些；佣人们也不会一再把我当作保育室的替罪羊了。
红房子里白昼将尽。时候已是四点过后，暗沉沉的下午正转为凄凉的黄昏。我听见雨点 仍不停地敲打着楼梯的窗户，狂风在门厅后面的树丛中怒号。我渐渐地冷得像块石头，勇气 也烟消云 散。往常那种屈辱感，那种缺乏自信、孤独沮丧的情绪，浇灭了我将消未消的怒 火，谁都说我坏，也许我确实如此吧。我不是一心谋划着让自己饿死吗？这当然是一种罪 过。而且我该不该死呢？或者，盖茨黑德教堂圣坛底下的墓穴是个令人向往的归宿吗？听说 里德先生就长眠在这样的墓穴里。这一念头重又勾起了我对他的回忆，而越往下细想，就越 害怕起来。我已经不记得他了，只知道他是我舅父——我母亲的哥哥——他收养了我这个襁 褓中的孤儿，而且在弥留之际，要里德太太答应，把我当作她自己的孩子来抚养。里德太太 也许认为自己是信守诺言的。而我想就她本性而论，也确是实践了当初的许诺。可是她怎么 能真心喜欢一个不属于她家的外姓、一个在丈夫死后同她已了却一切干系的人呢？她发现自 己受这勉为其难的保证的约束，充当一个自己所无法喜爱的陌生孩子的母亲，眼睁睁看着一 位不相投合的外人永远硬挤在自己的家人中间。对她来说，这想必是件最恼人的事情了。
红房子里白昼将尽。时候已是四点过后，暗沉沉的下午正转为凄凉的黄昏。我听见雨点 仍不停地敲打着楼梯的窗户，狂风在门厅后面的树丛中怒号。我渐渐地冷得像块石头，勇气 也烟消云 散。往常那种屈辱感，那种缺乏自信、孤独沮丧的情绪，浇灭了我将消未消的怒 火，谁都说我坏，也许我确实如此吧。我不是一心谋划着让自己饿死吗？这当然是一种罪 过。而且我该不该死呢？或者，盖茨黑德教堂圣坛底下的墓穴是个令人向往的归宿吗？听说 里德先生就长眠在这样的墓穴里。这一念头重又勾起了我对他的回忆，而越往下细想，就越 害怕起来。我已经不记得他了，只知道他是我舅父——我母亲的哥哥——他收养了我这个襁 褓中的孤儿，而且在弥留之际，要里德太太答应，把我当作她自己的孩子来抚养。里德太太 也许认为自己是信守诺言的。而我想就她本性而论，也确是实践了当初的许诺。可是她怎么 能真心喜欢一个不属于她家的外姓、一个在丈夫死后同她已了却一切干系的人呢？她发现自 己受这勉为其难的保证的约束，充当一个自己所无法喜爱的陌生孩子的母亲，眼睁睁看着一 位不相投合的外人永远硬挤在自己的家人中间。对她来说，这想必是件最恼人的事情了。
我忽然闪过一个古怪的念头。我不怀疑—一也从来没有怀疑过——里德先生要是在世， 一定会待我很好。此刻，我坐着，一面打量着白白的床和影影绰绰的墙，不时还用经不住诱 惑的目光，瞟一眼泛着微光的镜子，不由得忆起了关于死人的种种传闻。据说由于人们违背 了他们临终的嘱托，他们在坟墓里非常不安，于是便重访人间，严惩发假誓的人，并为受压 者报仇。我思忖，里德先生的幽灵为外甥女的冤屈所动，会走出居所，不管那是教堂的墓 穴，还是死者无人知晓的世界，来到这间房子，站在我面前。我抹去眼泪，忍住哭泣，担心 嚎啕大哭会惊动什么不可知的声音来抚慰我，或者在昏暗中召来某些带光环的面孔，露出奇 异怜悯的神色，俯身对着我。这念头听起来很令人欣慰，不过要是真的做起来，想必会非常 可怕。我使劲不去想它，抬起头来，大着胆子环顾了一下暗洞洞的房间。就在这时，墙上闪 过一道亮光。我问自己，会不会是一缕月光，透过百叶窗的缝隙照了进来？不，月光是静止 的，而这透光却是流动的。停晴一看，这光线滑到了天花板上，在我头顶上抖动起来。现在 我会很自然地联想到，那很可能是有人提着灯笼穿过草地时射进来的光。但那会儿，我脑子 里尽往恐怖处去想，我的神经也由于激动而非常紧张，我认为那道飞快掠过的光，是某个幽 灵从另一个世界到来的先兆。我的心怦怦乱跳，头脑又热又胀，耳朵里呼呼作响，以为那是 翅膀拍击声，好像什么东西已经逼近我了。我感到压抑，感到窒息，我的忍耐力崩溃了，禁 不住发疯似地大叫了一声，冲向大门，拼命摇着门锁。外面们廊上响起了飞跑而来的脚步 声，钥匙转动了，贝茜和艾博特走进房间。
“啊！我看到了一道光，想必是鬼来了。”这时，我拉住了贝茜的手，而她并没有抽回 去。
“她是故意乱叫乱嚷的，”艾博特厌烦地当着我的面说，“而且叫得那么凶！要是真痛 得厉害，倒还可以原谅，可她只不过要把我们骗到这里来，我知道她的诡计。”
“到底是怎么回事？”一个咄咄逼人的声音问道。随后，里德太太从走廊里走过来，帽 子飘忽着被风鼓得大大的，睡袍悉悉簌簌响个不停。“艾博特，贝茜，我想我吩咐过，让 简·爱呆在红房子里，由我亲自来过问。”
“简小姐叫得那么响，夫人，”贝茵恳求着。
“放开她，”这是唯一的回答。“松开贝茵的手，孩子。你尽可放心，靠这些办法，是 出不去的，我讨厌耍花招，尤其是小孩子，我有责任让你知道，鬼把戏不管用。现在你要在 这里多呆一个小时，而且只有服服贴贴，一动不动，才放你出来。”
“啊，舅妈，可怜可怜我吧：饶恕我吧！我实在受不了啦，用别的办法惩罚我吧！我会 憋死的，要是——”
“住嘴！这么闹闹嚷嚷讨厌透了。”她无疑就是这么感觉的。在她眼里我是个早熟的演 员，她打心底里认为，我是个本性恶毒、灵魂卑劣、为人阴险的货色。
贝茜和艾博特退了出去。里德太太对我疯也似的痛苦嚎叫很不耐烦，无意再往下谈了， 蓦地把我往后一推，锁上了门。我听见她堂而皇之地走了。她走后不久，我猜想我便一阵痉 挛，昏了过去，结束了这场吵闹。
"Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she's like a mad cat. "
"For shame! for shame!" cried the lady's-maid. "What shocking conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress's son! Your young master. "
"Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?"
"No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep. There, sit down, and think over your wickedness. "
They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated by Mrs. Reed, and had thrust me upon a stool: my impulse was to rise from it like a spring; their two pair of hands arrested me instantly.
"If you don't sit still, you must be tied down, " said Bessie. "Miss Abbot, lend me your garters; she would break mine directly. "
Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of the necessary ligature. This preparation for bonds, and the additional ignominy it inferred, took a little of the excitement out of me.
"Don't take them off, " I cried; "I will not stir. "
In guarantee whereof, I attached myself to my seat by my hands.
"Mind you don't, " said Bessie; and when she had ascertained that I was really subsiding, she loosened her hold of me; then she and Miss Abbot stood with folded arms, looking darkly and doubtfully on my face, as incredulous of my sanity.
"She never did so before, " at last said Bessie, turning to the Abigail.
"But it was always in her, " was the reply. "I've told Missis often my opinion about the child, and Missis agreed with me. She's an underhand little thing: I never saw a girl of her age with so much cover. "
Bessie answered not; but ere long, addressing me, she said -- "You ought to be aware, Miss, that you are under obligations to Mrs. Reed: she keeps you: if she were to turn you off, you would have to go to the poorhouse. "
I had nothing to say to these words: they were not new to me: my very first recollections of existence included hints of the same kind. This reproach of my dependence had become a vague sing-song in my ear: very painful and crushing, but only half intelligible. Miss Abbot joined in -
"And you ought not to think yourself on an equality with the Misses Reed and Master Reed, because Missis kindly allows you to be brought up with them. They will have a great deal of money, and you will have none: it is your place to be humble, and to try to make yourself agreeable to them. "
"What we tell you is for your good, " added Bessie, in no harsh voice, "you should try to be useful and pleasant, then, perhaps, you would have a home here; but if you become passionate and rude, Missis will send you away, I am sure. "
"Besides, " said Miss Abbot, "God will punish her: He might strike her dead in the midst of her tantrums, and then where would she go? Come, Bessie, we will leave her: I wouldn't have her heart for anything. Say your prayers, Miss Eyre, when you are by yourself; for if you don't repent, something bad might be permitted to come down the chimney and fetch you away. "
They went, shutting the door, and locking it behind them.
The red-room was a square chamber, very seldom slept in, I might say never, indeed, unless when a chance influx of visitors at Gateshead Hall rendered it necessary to turn to account all the accommodation it contained: yet it was one of the largest and stateliest chambers in the mansion. A bed supported on massive pillars of mahogany, hung with curtains of deep red damask, stood out like a tabernacle in the centre; the two large windows, with their blinds always drawn down, were half shrouded in festoons and falls of similar drapery; the carpet was red; the table at the foot of the bed was covered with a crimson cloth; the walls were a soft fawn colour with a blush of pink in it; the wardrobe, the toilet-table, the chairs were of darkly polished old mahogany. Out of these deep surrounding shades rose high, and glared white, the piled-up mattresses and pillows of the bed, spread with a snowy Marseilles counterpane. Scarcely less prominent was an ample cushioned easy-chair near the head of the bed, also white, with a footstool before it; and looking, as I thought, like a pale throne.
This room was chill, because it seldom had a fire; it was silent, because remote from the nursery and kitchen; solemn, because it was known to be so seldom entered. The house-maid alone came here on Saturdays, to wipe from the mirrors and the furniture a week's quiet dust: and Mrs. Reed herself, at far intervals, visited it to review the contents of a certain secret drawer in the wardrobe, where were stored divers parchments, her jewel-casket, and a miniature of her deceased husband; and in those last words lies the secret of the red-room -- the spell which kept it so lonely in spite of its grandeur.
Mr. Reed had been dead nine years: it was in this chamber he breathed his last; here he lay in state; hence his coffin was borne by the undertaker's men; and, since that day, a sense of dreary consecration had guarded it from frequent intrusion.
My seat, to which Bessie and the bitter Miss Abbot had left me riveted, was a low ottoman near the marble chimney-piece; the bed rose before me; to my right hand there was the high, dark wardrobe, with subdued, broken reflections varying the gloss of its panels; to my left were the muffled windows; a great looking-glass between them repeated the vacant majesty of the bed and room. I was not quite sure whether they had locked the door; and when I dared move, I got up and went to see. Alas! yes: no jail was ever more secure. Returning, I had to cross before the looking-glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. All looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality: and the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: I thought it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, Bessie's evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing before the eyes of belated travellers. I returned to my stool.
Superstition was with me at that moment; but it was not yet her hour for complete victory: my blood was still warm; the mood of the revolted slave was still bracing me with its bitter vigour; I had to stem a rapid rush of retrospective thought before I quailed to the dismal present.
All John Reed's violent tyrannies, all his sisters' proud indifference, all his mother's aversion, all the servants' partiality, turned up in my disturbed mind like a dark deposit in a turbid well. Why was I always suffering, always browbeaten, always accused, for ever condemned? Why could I never please? Why was it useless to try to win any one's favour? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temper, a very acrid spite, a captious and insolent carriage, was universally indulged. Her beauty, her pink cheeks and golden curls, seemed to give delight to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity for every fault. John no one thwarted, much less punished; though he twisted the necks of the pigeons, killed the little pea-chicks, set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory: he called his mother "old girl, " too; sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, similar to his own; bluntly disregarded her wishes; not unfrequently tore and spoiled her silk attire; and he was still "her own darling. " I dared commit no fault: I strove to fulfil every duty; and I was termed naughty and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, from morning to noon, and from noon to night.
My head still ached and bled with the blow and fall I had received: no one had reproved John for wantonly striking me; and because I had turned against him to avert farther irrational violence, I was loaded with general opprobrium.
"Unjust! -- unjust!" said my reason, forced by the agonising stimulus into precocious though transitory power: and Resolve, equally wrought up, instigated some strange expedient to achieve escape from insupportable oppression -- as running away, or, if that could not be effected, never eating or drinking more, and letting myself die.
What a consternation of soul was mine that dreary afternoon! How all my brain was in tumult, and all my heart in insurrection! Yet in what darkness, what dense ignorance, was the mental battle fought! I could not answer the ceaseless inward question -- WHY I thus suffered; now, at the distance of -- I will not say how many years, I see it clearly.
I was a discord in Gateshead Hall: I was like nobody there; I had nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen vassalage. If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them. They were not bound to regard with affection a thing that could not sympathise with one amongst them; a heterogeneous thing, opposed to them in temperament, in capacity, in propensities; a useless thing, incapable of serving their interest, or adding to their pleasure; a noxious thing, cherishing the germs of indignation at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment. I know that had I been a sanguine, brilliant, careless, exacting, handsome, romping child -- though equally dependent and friendless -- Mrs. Reed would have endured my presence more complacently; her children would have entertained for me more of the cordiality of fellow-feeling; the servants would have been less prone to make me the scapegoat of the nursery.
Daylight began to forsake the red-room; it was past four o'clock, and the beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight. I heard the rain still beating continuously on the staircase window, and the wind howling in the grove behind the hall; I grew by degrees cold as a stone, and then my courage sank. My habitual mood of humiliation, self-doubt, forlorn depression, fell damp on the embers of my decaying ire. All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so; what thought had I been but just conceiving of starving myself to death? That certainly was a crime: and was I fit to die? Or was the vault under the chancel of Gateshead Church an inviting bourne? In such vault I had been told did Mr. Reed lie buried; and led by this thought to recall his idea, I dwelt on it with gathering dread. I could not remember him; but I knew that he was my own uncle -- my mother's brother -- that he had taken me when a parentless infant to his house; and that in his last moments he had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain me as one of her own children. Mrs. Reed probably considered she had kept this promise; and so she had, I dare say, as well as her nature would permit her; but how could she really like an interloper not of her race, and unconnected with her, after her husband's death, by any tie? 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 strange child she could not love, and to see an uncongenial alien permanently intruded on her own family group.
A singular notion dawned upon me. I doubted not -- never doubted -- that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me kindly; and now, as I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls -- occasionally also turning a fascinated eye towards the dimly gleaning mirror -- I began to recall what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their graves by the violation of their last wishes, revisiting the earth to punish the perjured and avenge the oppressed; and I thought Mr. Reed's spirit, harassed by the wrongs of his sister's child, might quit its abode -- whether in the church vault or in the unknown world of the departed -- and rise before me in this chamber. I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs, fearful lest any sign of violent grief might waken a preternatural voice to comfort me, or elicit from the gloom some haloed face, bending over me with strange pity. This idea, consolatory in theory, I felt would be terrible if realised: with all my might I endeavoured to stifle it -- I endeavoured to be firm. Shaking my hair from my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to look boldly round the dark room; at this moment a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, I asked myself, a ray from the moon penetrating some aperture in the blind? No; moonlight was still, and this stirred; while I gazed, it glided up to the ceiling and quivered over my head. I can now conjecture readily that this streak of light was, in all likelihood, a gleam from a lantern carried by some one across the lawn: but then, prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken as my nerves were by agitation, I thought the swift darting beam was a herald of some coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my head grew hot; a sound filled my ears, which I deemed the rushing of wings; something seemed near me; I was oppressed, suffocated: endurance broke down; I rushed to the door and shook the lock in desperate effort. Steps came running along the outer passage; the key turned, Bessie and Abbot entered.
"Miss Eyre, are you ill?" said Bessie.
"What a dreadful noise! it went quite through me!" exclaimed Abbot.
"Take me out! Let me go into the nursery!" was my cry.
"What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?" again demanded Bessie.
"Oh! I saw a light, and I thought a 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 purpose, " declared Abbot, in some disgust. "And what a scream! If she had been in great pain one would have excused it, but she only wanted to bring us all here: I know her naughty tricks. "
"What is all this?" demanded another voice peremptorily; and Mrs. Reed came along the corridor, her cap flying wide, her gown rustling stormily. "Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders that Jane Eyre should be left in the red-room till I came to her myself. "
"Miss Jane screamed so loud, ma'am, " pleaded Bessie.
"Let her go, " was the only answer. "Loose Bessie's hand, child: you cannot succeed in getting out by these means, be assured. I abhor artifice, particularly in children; it is my duty to show you that tricks will not answer: you will now stay here an hour longer, and it is only on condition of perfect submission and stillness that I shall liberate you then. "
"O aunt! have pity! Forgive me! I cannot endure it -- let me be punished some other way! I shall be killed if -- "
"Silence! This violence is all most repulsive:" and so, no doubt, she felt it. I was a precocious actress in her eyes; she sincerely looked on me as a compound of virulent passions, mean spirit, and dangerous duplicity.
Bessie and Abbot having retreated, Mrs. Reed, impatient of my now frantic anguish and wild sobs, abruptly thrust me back and locked me in, without farther parley. I heard her sweeping away; and soon after she was gone, I suppose I had a species of fit: unconsciousness closed the scene.
“抓住她的胳膊，艾博特小姐，她像一只发了疯的猫。”
“真丢脸！真丢脸！”这位女主人的侍女叫道，“多可怕的举动，爱小姐，居然打起小 少爷来了，他是你恩人的儿子：你的小主人！”
“主人，他怎么会是我主人，难道我是仆人不成？”
“不，你连仆人都不如。你不干事，吃白食。喂，坐下来，好好想一想你有多坏。”
这时候她们已把我拖进了里德太太所指的房间，推操到一条矮凳上，我不由自主地像弹 簧一样跳起来，但立刻被两双手按住了。
“要是你不安安稳稳坐着，我们可得绑住你了，”贝茜说，“艾博特小姐，把你的袜带 借给我，我那付会被她一下子绷断的。”
艾博特小姐转而从她粗壮的腿上，解下那条必不可少的带子。捆绑前的准备工作以及由 此而额外蒙受的耻辱，略微消解了我的激动情绪。
“别解啦，”我叫道，“我不动就是了。”
作为保证，我让双手紧挨着凳子。
“记住别动，”贝茜说，知道我确实已经平静下去，便松了手。随后她和艾博特小姐抱 臂而立，沉着脸，满腹狐疑地瞪着我，不相信我的神经还是正常似的。
“她以前从来没有这样过，”末了，贝茜转身对那位艾比盖尔说。
“不过她生性如此，”对方回答，“我经常跟太太说起我对这孩子的看法，太太也同 意。这小东西真狡猾，从来没见过像她这样年纪的小姑娘，有那么多鬼心眼的。”
贝茜没有搭腔，但不一会便对我说：
“小姐，你该明白，你受了里德太太的恩惠，是她养着你的。要是她把你赶走，你就得 进贫民院了。”
对她们这番活，我无话可说，因为听起来并不新鲜。我生活的最早记忆中就包含着类似 的暗示，这些责备我赖别人过活的话，己成了意义含糊的老调，叫人痛苦，让人难受，但又 不太好懂。艾博特小姐答话了：
“你不能因为太太好心把你同里德小姐和少爷一块抚养大，就以为自己与他们平等了。 他们将来会有很多很多钱，而你却一个子儿也不会有。你得学谦恭些，尽量顺着他们，这才 是你的本份。”
“我们同你说的全是为了你好，”贝茜补充道，口气倒并不严厉，“你做事要巴结些， 学得乖一点，那样也许可以把这当个家住下去，要是你意气用事，粗暴无礼，我敢肯定，太 太会把你撵走。”
“另外，”艾博特小姐说，“上帝会惩罚她，也许会在她耍啤气时，把她处死，死后她 能上哪儿呢，来，贝茜，咱们走吧，随她去。反正我是无论如何打动不了她啦。爱小姐，你 独个儿呆着的时候，祈祷吧。要是你不忏悔，说不定有个坏家伙会从烟囱进来，把你带 走。”
她们走了，关了门，随手上了锁。
红房子是间空余的卧房，难得有人在里面过夜。其实也许可以说，从来没有。除非盖茨 黑德府上偶而拥进一大群客人时，才有必要动用全部房间。但府里的卧室，数它最宽敞、最 堂皇了。—张红木床赫然立于房间正中，粗大的床柱上，罩着深红色锦缎帐幔，活像一个帐 篷。两扇终日窗帘紧闭的大窗，半掩在清一色织物制成的流苏之中。地毯是红的，床脚边的 桌子上铺着深红色的台布，墙呈柔和的黄褐色，略带粉红。大橱、梳妆台和椅子都是乌黑发 亮的红木做的。床上高高地叠着褥垫和枕头，上面铺着雪白的马赛布床罩，在周围深色调陈 设的映衬下，白得眩目。几乎同样显眼的是床头边一把铺着坐垫的大安乐椅，一样的白色， 前面还放着一只脚凳，在我看来，它像一个苍白的宝座。
房子里难得生火，所以很冷；因为远离保育室和厨房，所以很静；又因为谁都知道很少 有人进去，所以显得庄严肃穆。只有女佣每逢星期六上这里来，把一周内静悄悄落在镜子上 和家具上的灰尘抹去。还有里德太太本人，隔好久才来一次，查看大橱里某个秘密抽屉里的 东西。这里存放着各类羊皮文件，她的首饰盒，以及她已故丈夫的肖像。上面提到的最后几 句话，给红房子带来了一种神秘感，一种魔力，因而它虽然富丽堂皇，却显得分外凄清。
里德先生死去已经九年了，他就是在这间房子里咽气的，他的遗体在这里让人瞻仰，他 的棺材由殡葬工人从这里抬走。从此之后，这里便始终弥漫着一种阴森森的祭奠氛围，所以 不常有人闯进来。
里德先生死去已经九年了，他就是在这间房子里咽气的，他的遗体在这里让人瞻仰，他 的棺材由殡葬工人从这里抬走。从此之后，这里便始终弥漫着一种阴森森的祭奠氛围，所以 不常有人闯进来。
贝茜和刻薄的艾博特小姐让我一动不动坐着的，是一条软垫矮凳，摆在靠近大理石壁炉 的地方。我面前是高耸的床，我右面是黑漆漆的大橱，橱上柔和、斑驳的反光，使镶板的光 泽摇曳变幻。我左面是关得严严实实的窗子，两扇窗子中间有一面大镜子，映照出床和房间 的空旷和肃穆。我吃不准他们锁了门没有，等到敢于走动时，便起来看个究竟。哎呀，不 错，比牢房锁得还紧呐。返回原地时，我必须经过大镜子跟前。我的目光被吸引住了，禁不 住探究起镜中的世界来。在虚幻的映像中，一切都显得比现实中更冷落、更阴沉。那个陌生 的小家伙瞅着我，白白的脸上和胳膊上都蒙上了斑驳的阴影，在—切都凝滞时，唯有那双明 亮恐惧的眼睛在闪动，看上去真像是一个幽灵。我觉得她像那种半仙半人的小精灵，恰如贝 茵在夜晚的故事中所描绘的那样，从沼泽地带山蕨丛生的荒谷中冒出来，现身于迟归的旅行 者眼前。我回到丁我的矮凳上。
这时候我相信起迷信来了，但并没有到了完全听凭摆布的程度，我依然热血沸腾，反叛 的奴隶那种苦涩情绪依然激励着我。往事如潮、在我脑海中奔涌，如果我不加以遏制，我就 不会对阴暗的现实屈服。
约翰·里德的专横霸道、他姐妹的高傲冷漠、他母亲的厌恶、仆人们的偏心，像一口混 沌的水井中黑色的沉淀物，一古脑儿泛起在我烦恼不安的心头。
为什么我总是受苦，总是遭人白眼，总是让人告状，永远受到责备呢？为什么我永远不 能讨人喜欢？为什么我尽力博取欢心，却依然无济于事呢？伊丽莎自私任性，却受到尊敬； 乔治亚娜好使性子，心肠又毒，而且强词夺理目空一切，偏偏得到所有人的纵容。她的美 貌，她红润的面颊，金色的卷发，使得她人见人爱，一俊便可遮百丑。至于约翰，没有人同 他顶撞，更不用说教训他了，虽然他什么坏事都干：捻断鸽子的头颈，弄死小孔雀，放狗去 咬羊，采摘温室中的葡萄，掐断暖房上等花木的嫩芽。有时还叫他母亲“老姑娘”，又因为 她皮肤黝黑像他自己而破口大骂。他蛮横地与母亲作对，经常撕毁她的丝绸服装，而他却依 然是“她的宝贝蛋”。而我不敢有丝毫闪失，干什么都全力以赴，人家还是骂我淘气鬼，讨 厌坯，骂我阴丝丝，贼溜溜，从早上骂到下午，从下午骂到晚上。
我因为挨了打、跌了交，头依然疼痛，依然流着血。约翰肆无忌惮地打我，却不受责 备，而我不过为了免遭进一步无理殴打，反抗了一下，便成了众矢之的。
“不公呵，不公！”我的理智呼喊着。在痛苦的刺激下我的理智变得早熟，化作了一种 短暂的力量。决心也同样鼓动起来，激发我去采取某种奇怪的手段，来摆脱难以忍受的压 迫，譬如逃跑，要是不能奏效，那就不吃不喝，活活饿死。
那个阴沉的下午，我心里多么惶恐不安！我的整个脑袋如一团乱麻，我的整颗心在反 抗：然而那场内心斗争又显得多么茫然，多么无知啊！我无法回答心底那永无休止的问题— —为什么我要如此受苦。此刻，在相隔——我不说多少年以后，我看清楚了。
我在盖茨黑德府上格格不入。在那里我跟谁都不像。同里德太太、她的孩子、她看中的 家仆，都不融洽。他们不爱我，说实在我也一样不爱他们。他们没有必要热情对待一个与自 已合不来的家伙，一个无论是个性、地位，还是嗜好都同他们泾渭分明的异己；一个既不能 为他们效劳，也不能给他们增添欢乐的废物；一个对自己的境界心存不满而又蔑视他们想法 的讨厌家伙。我明白，如果我是一个聪明开朗、漂亮顽皮、不好侍候的孩子，即使同样是寄 人篱下，同样是无亲无故，里德太太也会对我的处境更加宽容忍让；她的孩子们也会对我亲 切热情些；佣人们也不会一再把我当作保育室的替罪羊了。
红房子里白昼将尽。时候已是四点过后，暗沉沉的下午正转为凄凉的黄昏。我听见雨点 仍不停地敲打着楼梯的窗户，狂风在门厅后面的树丛中怒号。我渐渐地冷得像块石头，勇气 也烟消云 散。往常那种屈辱感，那种缺乏自信、孤独沮丧的情绪，浇灭了我将消未消的怒 火，谁都说我坏，也许我确实如此吧。我不是一心谋划着让自己饿死吗？这当然是一种罪 过。而且我该不该死呢？或者，盖茨黑德教堂圣坛底下的墓穴是个令人向往的归宿吗？听说 里德先生就长眠在这样的墓穴里。这一念头重又勾起了我对他的回忆，而越往下细想，就越 害怕起来。我已经不记得他了，只知道他是我舅父——我母亲的哥哥——他收养了我这个襁 褓中的孤儿，而且在弥留之际，要里德太太答应，把我当作她自己的孩子来抚养。里德太太 也许认为自己是信守诺言的。而我想就她本性而论，也确是实践了当初的许诺。可是她怎么 能真心喜欢一个不属于她家的外姓、一个在丈夫死后同她已了却一切干系的人呢？她发现自 己受这勉为其难的保证的约束，充当一个自己所无法喜爱的陌生孩子的母亲，眼睁睁看着一 位不相投合的外人永远硬挤在自己的家人中间。对她来说，这想必是件最恼人的事情了。
红房子里白昼将尽。时候已是四点过后，暗沉沉的下午正转为凄凉的黄昏。我听见雨点 仍不停地敲打着楼梯的窗户，狂风在门厅后面的树丛中怒号。我渐渐地冷得像块石头，勇气 也烟消云 散。往常那种屈辱感，那种缺乏自信、孤独沮丧的情绪，浇灭了我将消未消的怒 火，谁都说我坏，也许我确实如此吧。我不是一心谋划着让自己饿死吗？这当然是一种罪 过。而且我该不该死呢？或者，盖茨黑德教堂圣坛底下的墓穴是个令人向往的归宿吗？听说 里德先生就长眠在这样的墓穴里。这一念头重又勾起了我对他的回忆，而越往下细想，就越 害怕起来。我已经不记得他了，只知道他是我舅父——我母亲的哥哥——他收养了我这个襁 褓中的孤儿，而且在弥留之际，要里德太太答应，把我当作她自己的孩子来抚养。里德太太 也许认为自己是信守诺言的。而我想就她本性而论，也确是实践了当初的许诺。可是她怎么 能真心喜欢一个不属于她家的外姓、一个在丈夫死后同她已了却一切干系的人呢？她发现自 己受这勉为其难的保证的约束，充当一个自己所无法喜爱的陌生孩子的母亲，眼睁睁看着一 位不相投合的外人永远硬挤在自己的家人中间。对她来说，这想必是件最恼人的事情了。
我忽然闪过一个古怪的念头。我不怀疑—一也从来没有怀疑过——里德先生要是在世， 一定会待我很好。此刻，我坐着，一面打量着白白的床和影影绰绰的墙，不时还用经不住诱 惑的目光，瞟一眼泛着微光的镜子，不由得忆起了关于死人的种种传闻。据说由于人们违背 了他们临终的嘱托，他们在坟墓里非常不安，于是便重访人间，严惩发假誓的人，并为受压 者报仇。我思忖，里德先生的幽灵为外甥女的冤屈所动，会走出居所，不管那是教堂的墓 穴，还是死者无人知晓的世界，来到这间房子，站在我面前。我抹去眼泪，忍住哭泣，担心 嚎啕大哭会惊动什么不可知的声音来抚慰我，或者在昏暗中召来某些带光环的面孔，露出奇 异怜悯的神色，俯身对着我。这念头听起来很令人欣慰，不过要是真的做起来，想必会非常 可怕。我使劲不去想它，抬起头来，大着胆子环顾了一下暗洞洞的房间。就在这时，墙上闪 过一道亮光。我问自己，会不会是一缕月光，透过百叶窗的缝隙照了进来？不，月光是静止 的，而这透光却是流动的。停晴一看，这光线滑到了天花板上，在我头顶上抖动起来。现在 我会很自然地联想到，那很可能是有人提着灯笼穿过草地时射进来的光。但那会儿，我脑子 里尽往恐怖处去想，我的神经也由于激动而非常紧张，我认为那道飞快掠过的光，是某个幽 灵从另一个世界到来的先兆。我的心怦怦乱跳，头脑又热又胀，耳朵里呼呼作响，以为那是 翅膀拍击声，好像什么东西已经逼近我了。我感到压抑，感到窒息，我的忍耐力崩溃了，禁 不住发疯似地大叫了一声，冲向大门，拼命摇着门锁。外面们廊上响起了飞跑而来的脚步 声，钥匙转动了，贝茜和艾博特走进房间。
“啊！我看到了一道光，想必是鬼来了。”这时，我拉住了贝茜的手，而她并没有抽回 去。
“她是故意乱叫乱嚷的，”艾博特厌烦地当着我的面说，“而且叫得那么凶！要是真痛 得厉害，倒还可以原谅，可她只不过要把我们骗到这里来，我知道她的诡计。”
“到底是怎么回事？”一个咄咄逼人的声音问道。随后，里德太太从走廊里走过来，帽 子飘忽着被风鼓得大大的，睡袍悉悉簌簌响个不停。“艾博特，贝茜，我想我吩咐过，让 简·爱呆在红房子里，由我亲自来过问。”
“简小姐叫得那么响，夫人，”贝茵恳求着。
“放开她，”这是唯一的回答。“松开贝茵的手，孩子。你尽可放心，靠这些办法，是 出不去的，我讨厌耍花招，尤其是小孩子，我有责任让你知道，鬼把戏不管用。现在你要在 这里多呆一个小时，而且只有服服贴贴，一动不动，才放你出来。”
“啊，舅妈，可怜可怜我吧：饶恕我吧！我实在受不了啦，用别的办法惩罚我吧！我会 憋死的，要是——”
“住嘴！这么闹闹嚷嚷讨厌透了。”她无疑就是这么感觉的。在她眼里我是个早熟的演 员，她打心底里认为，我是个本性恶毒、灵魂卑劣、为人阴险的货色。
贝茜和艾博特退了出去。里德太太对我疯也似的痛苦嚎叫很不耐烦，无意再往下谈了， 蓦地把我往后一推，锁上了门。我听见她堂而皇之地走了。她走后不久，我猜想我便一阵痉 挛，昏了过去，结束了这场吵闹。
"Hold her arms, Miss Abbot: she's like a mad cat. "
"For shame! for shame!" cried the lady's-maid. "What shocking conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman, your benefactress's son! Your young master. "
"Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?"
"No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep. There, sit down, and think over your wickedness. "
They had got me by this time into the apartment indicated by Mrs. Reed, and had thrust me upon a stool: my impulse was to rise from it like a spring; their two pair of hands arrested me instantly.
"If you don't sit still, you must be tied down, " said Bessie. "Miss Abbot, lend me your garters; she would break mine directly. "
Miss Abbot turned to divest a stout leg of the necessary ligature. This preparation for bonds, and the additional ignominy it inferred, took a little of the excitement out of me.
"Don't take them off, " I cried; "I will not stir. "
In guarantee whereof, I attached myself to my seat by my hands.
"Mind you don't, " said Bessie; and when she had ascertained that I was really subsiding, she loosened her hold of me; then she and Miss Abbot stood with folded arms, looking darkly and doubtfully on my face, as incredulous of my sanity.
"She never did so before, " at last said Bessie, turning to the Abigail.
"But it was always in her, " was the reply. "I've told Missis often my opinion about the child, and Missis agreed with me. She's an underhand little thing: I never saw a girl of her age with so much cover. "
Bessie answered not; but ere long, addressing me, she said -- "You ought to be aware, Miss, that you are under obligations to Mrs. Reed: she keeps you: if she were to turn you off, you would have to go to the poorhouse. "
I had nothing to say to these words: they were not new to me: my very first recollections of existence included hints of the same kind. This reproach of my dependence had become a vague sing-song in my ear: very painful and crushing, but only half intelligible. Miss Abbot joined in -
"And you ought not to think yourself on an equality with the Misses Reed and Master Reed, because Missis kindly allows you to be brought up with them. They will have a great deal of money, and you will have none: it is your place to be humble, and to try to make yourself agreeable to them. "
"What we tell you is for your good, " added Bessie, in no harsh voice, "you should try to be useful and pleasant, then, perhaps, you would have a home here; but if you become passionate and rude, Missis will send you away, I am sure. "
"Besides, " said Miss Abbot, "God will punish her: He might strike her dead in the midst of her tantrums, and then where would she go? Come, Bessie, we will leave her: I wouldn't have her heart for anything. Say your prayers, Miss Eyre, when you are by yourself; for if you don't repent, something bad might be permitted to come down the chimney and fetch you away. "
They went, shutting the door, and locking it behind them.
The red-room was a square chamber, very seldom slept in, I might say never, indeed, unless when a chance influx of visitors at Gateshead Hall rendered it necessary to turn to account all the accommodation it contained: yet it was one of the largest and stateliest chambers in the mansion. A bed supported on massive pillars of mahogany, hung with curtains of deep red damask, stood out like a tabernacle in the centre; the two large windows, with their blinds always drawn down, were half shrouded in festoons and falls of similar drapery; the carpet was red; the table at the foot of the bed was covered with a crimson cloth; the walls were a soft fawn colour with a blush of pink in it; the wardrobe, the toilet-table, the chairs were of darkly polished old mahogany. Out of these deep surrounding shades rose high, and glared white, the piled-up mattresses and pillows of the bed, spread with a snowy Marseilles counterpane. Scarcely less prominent was an ample cushioned easy-chair near the head of the bed, also white, with a footstool before it; and looking, as I thought, like a pale throne.
This room was chill, because it seldom had a fire; it was silent, because remote from the nursery and kitchen; solemn, because it was known to be so seldom entered. The house-maid alone came here on Saturdays, to wipe from the mirrors and the furniture a week's quiet dust: and Mrs. Reed herself, at far intervals, visited it to review the contents of a certain secret drawer in the wardrobe, where were stored divers parchments, her jewel-casket, and a miniature of her deceased husband; and in those last words lies the secret of the red-room -- the spell which kept it so lonely in spite of its grandeur.
Mr. Reed had been dead nine years: it was in this chamber he breathed his last; here he lay in state; hence his coffin was borne by the undertaker's men; and, since that day, a sense of dreary consecration had guarded it from frequent intrusion.
My seat, to which Bessie and the bitter Miss Abbot had left me riveted, was a low ottoman near the marble chimney-piece; the bed rose before me; to my right hand there was the high, dark wardrobe, with subdued, broken reflections varying the gloss of its panels; to my left were the muffled windows; a great looking-glass between them repeated the vacant majesty of the bed and room. I was not quite sure whether they had locked the door; and when I dared move, I got up and went to see. Alas! yes: no jail was ever more secure. Returning, I had to cross before the looking-glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. All looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality: and the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit: I thought it like one of the tiny phantoms, half fairy, half imp, Bessie's evening stories represented as coming out of lone, ferny dells in moors, and appearing before the eyes of belated travellers. I returned to my stool.
Superstition was with me at that moment; but it was not yet her hour for complete victory: my blood was still warm; the mood of the revolted slave was still bracing me with its bitter vigour; I had to stem a rapid rush of retrospective thought before I quailed to the dismal present.
All John Reed's violent tyrannies, all his sisters' proud indifference, all his mother's aversion, all the servants' partiality, turned up in my disturbed mind like a dark deposit in a turbid well. Why was I always suffering, always browbeaten, always accused, for ever condemned? Why could I never please? Why was it useless to try to win any one's favour? Eliza, who was headstrong and selfish, was respected. Georgiana, who had a spoiled temper, a very acrid spite, a captious and insolent carriage, was universally indulged. Her beauty, her pink cheeks and golden curls, seemed to give delight to all who looked at her, and to purchase indemnity for every fault. John no one thwarted, much less punished; though he twisted the necks of the pigeons, killed the little pea-chicks, set the dogs at the sheep, stripped the hothouse vines of their fruit, and broke the buds off the choicest plants in the conservatory: he called his mother "old girl, " too; sometimes reviled her for her dark skin, similar to his own; bluntly disregarded her wishes; not unfrequently tore and spoiled her silk attire; and he was still "her own darling. " I dared commit no fault: I strove to fulfil every duty; and I was termed naughty and tiresome, sullen and sneaking, from morning to noon, and from noon to night.
My head still ached and bled with the blow and fall I had received: no one had reproved John for wantonly striking me; and because I had turned against him to avert farther irrational violence, I was loaded with general opprobrium.
"Unjust! -- unjust!" said my reason, forced by the agonising stimulus into precocious though transitory power: and Resolve, equally wrought up, instigated some strange expedient to achieve escape from insupportable oppression -- as running away, or, if that could not be effected, never eating or drinking more, and letting myself die.
What a consternation of soul was mine that dreary afternoon! How all my brain was in tumult, and all my heart in insurrection! Yet in what darkness, what dense ignorance, was the mental battle fought! I could not answer the ceaseless inward question -- WHY I thus suffered; now, at the distance of -- I will not say how many years, I see it clearly.
I was a discord in Gateshead Hall: I was like nobody there; I had nothing in harmony with Mrs. Reed or her children, or her chosen vassalage. If they did not love me, in fact, as little did I love them. They were not bound to regard with affection a thing that could not sympathise with one amongst them; a heterogeneous thing, opposed to them in temperament, in capacity, in propensities; a useless thing, incapable of serving their interest, or adding to their pleasure; a noxious thing, cherishing the germs of indignation at their treatment, of contempt of their judgment. I know that had I been a sanguine, brilliant, careless, exacting, handsome, romping child -- though equally dependent and friendless -- Mrs. Reed would have endured my presence more complacently; her children would have entertained for me more of the cordiality of fellow-feeling; the servants would have been less prone to make me the scapegoat of the nursery.
Daylight began to forsake the red-room; it was past four o'clock, and the beclouded afternoon was tending to drear twilight. I heard the rain still beating continuously on the staircase window, and the wind howling in the grove behind the hall; I grew by degrees cold as a stone, and then my courage sank. My habitual mood of humiliation, self-doubt, forlorn depression, fell damp on the embers of my decaying ire. All said I was wicked, and perhaps I might be so; what thought had I been but just conceiving of starving myself to death? That certainly was a crime: and was I fit to die? Or was the vault under the chancel of Gateshead Church an inviting bourne? In such vault I had been told did Mr. Reed lie buried; and led by this thought to recall his idea, I dwelt on it with gathering dread. I could not remember him; but I knew that he was my own uncle -- my mother's brother -- that he had taken me when a parentless infant to his house; and that in his last moments he had required a promise of Mrs. Reed that she would rear and maintain me as one of her own children. Mrs. Reed probably considered she had kept this promise; and so she had, I dare say, as well as her nature would permit her; but how could she really like an interloper not of her race, and unconnected with her, after her husband's death, by any tie? 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 strange child she could not love, and to see an uncongenial alien permanently intruded on her own family group.
A singular notion dawned upon me. I doubted not -- never doubted -- that if Mr. Reed had been alive he would have treated me kindly; and now, as I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls -- occasionally also turning a fascinated eye towards the dimly gleaning mirror -- I began to recall what I had heard of dead men, troubled in their graves by the violation of their last wishes, revisiting the earth to punish the perjured and avenge the oppressed; and I thought Mr. Reed's spirit, harassed by the wrongs of his sister's child, might quit its abode -- whether in the church vault or in the unknown world of the departed -- and rise before me in this chamber. I wiped my tears and hushed my sobs, fearful lest any sign of violent grief might waken a preternatural voice to comfort me, or elicit from the gloom some haloed face, bending over me with strange pity. This idea, consolatory in theory, I felt would be terrible if realised: with all my might I endeavoured to stifle it -- I endeavoured to be firm. Shaking my hair from my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to look boldly round the dark room; at this moment a light gleamed on the wall. Was it, I asked myself, a ray from the moon penetrating some aperture in the blind? No; moonlight was still, and this stirred; while I gazed, it glided up to the ceiling and quivered over my head. I can now conjecture readily that this streak of light was, in all likelihood, a gleam from a lantern carried by some one across the lawn: but then, prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken as my nerves were by agitation, I thought the swift darting beam was a herald of some coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my head grew hot; a sound filled my ears, which I deemed the rushing of wings; something seemed near me; I was oppressed, suffocated: endurance broke down; I rushed to the door and shook the lock in desperate effort. Steps came running along the outer passage; the key turned, Bessie and Abbot entered.
"Miss Eyre, are you ill?" said Bessie.
"What a dreadful noise! it went quite through me!" exclaimed Abbot.
"Take me out! Let me go into the nursery!" was my cry.
"What for? Are you hurt? Have you seen something?" again demanded Bessie.
"Oh! I saw a light, and I thought a 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 purpose, " declared Abbot, in some disgust. "And what a scream! If she had been in great pain one would have excused it, but she only wanted to bring us all here: I know her naughty tricks. "
"What is all this?" demanded another voice peremptorily; and Mrs. Reed came along the corridor, her cap flying wide, her gown rustling stormily. "Abbot and Bessie, I believe I gave orders that Jane Eyre should be left in the red-room till I came to her myself. "
"Miss Jane screamed so loud, ma'am, " pleaded Bessie.
"Let her go, " was the only answer. "Loose Bessie's hand, child: you cannot succeed in getting out by these means, be assured. I abhor artifice, particularly in children; it is my duty to show you that tricks will not answer: you will now stay here an hour longer, and it is only on condition of perfect submission and stillness that I shall liberate you then. "
"O aunt! have pity! Forgive me! I cannot endure it -- let me be punished some other way! I shall be killed if -- "
"Silence! This violence is all most repulsive:" and so, no doubt, she felt it. I was a precocious actress in her eyes; she sincerely looked on me as a compound of virulent passions, mean spirit, and dangerous duplicity.
Bessie and Abbot having retreated, Mrs. Reed, impatient of my now frantic anguish and wild sobs, abruptly thrust me back and locked me in, without farther parley. I heard her sweeping away; and soon after she was gone, I suppose I had a species of fit: unconsciousness closed the scene.