Chapter 27 The storm breaks

1 On Midsummer evening, Adèle, weary with gathering wild fruit, had gone to bed early. I watched her fall asleep, and when I left her I went into the garden.

2 It was now the sweetest hour of the twenty-four. Sunset was giving place to moonrise. I found a winding path where I might wander unseen, but it was not long before my step hesitated. Something made me pause—not a sound, not a sight, but a warning scent. This new scent was neither of leaf or flower. It was—I knew it well—Mr Rochester's cigar. I saw him in the distance, and I stepped aside to a sheltered seat. 'If I sit still,' I thought, 'he will never see me.'

3 He wandered about, now examining the fruit on the bushes, now bending towards a flowering plant. A great insect went noisily by and settled near his foot. He saw it, and turned to examine it.

4 'Now he has his back towards me,' I thought. 'Perhaps if I walk softly, I can slip away unnoticed.'

5 I walked gently on a grassy border, but as I crossed his shadow, thrown long over the garden by the moon, he said quietly, without turning round:

6 'Turn back, Jane. On so beautiful a night it is a shame to remain indoors.'

7 It is one of my faults, that though my tongue is sometimes ready enough with an answer, there are times when it fails sadly in making an excuse; and this weakness always appears at some difficult moment, when some simple word is needed to get me out of an awkward situation. It failed me now.

8 'Jane,' he began again, as we entered an avenue, 'Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer, isn't it? Wouldn't you be sorry to leave it?'

9 'Must I leave, sir?' I asked.

10 'I am sorry, Jane, but I believe you must.'

11 'Then you are going to be married, sir?'

12 'In about a month I hope to bring home my bride. I have already, through my future mother-in-law, heard of a place that I think will suit you. It is to educate the five daughters of a lady in the west of Ireland.'

13 'It is a long way off, sir.'

14 'Never mind. A girl of your sense will not object to the voyage or the distance. We have been good friends, Jane, haven't we?'

15 'Yes, sir.'

16 'It is unlikely that we shall meet again. I suppose that you will forget me?'

17 'That I never should, sir: you know ... ' It was impossible to continue.

18 'Jane, do you hear that bird singing in the wood?'

19 In listening, I wept. I could hide my feelings no longer. When I did speak, it was to express a passionate wish that I had never been born, or never come to Thornfield.

20 The violence of my feeling, stirred by grief and love, was gaining control, and demanding a right to conquer, and to speak.

21 'I love Thornfield—I love it because I have lived in it a full and delightful life ... for a little while at least. I have not been scorned or badly treated. I have talked, face to face, with what I delight in—with a strong and original mind. I have known you, Mr Rochester, and I find it unbearable that I must be separated from you for ever. I see the necessity for leaving, and it is like looking on the necessity of death.'

22 'Where do you see the necessity?'

23 'You, sir, have placed it before me, in the form of your bride.'

24 'My bride! I have no bride!'

25 'But you will have.'

26 'Yes! I will! I will!' He looked determined.

27 'Then I tell you I must go!' I replied, stirred to something like passion. 'Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am a machine without feelings? Do you think, because I am poor, humble, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! And if God had given me some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now by the standards of custom and the world. It is my spirit that addresses your spirit, as if we stood before God, equal, as we are!'

28 'As we are!' repeated Mr Rochester. 'So,' he added, enclosing me in his arms. 'So, Jane!'

29 'Yes, so, sir,' I replied, 'and yet not so, for you are going to marry a person who is unworthy of you—one with whom you have no sympathy—whom I do not believe that you truly love. I would scorn such a union: therefore I am better than you—let me go!'

30 'Where, Jane? To Ireland?'

31 'Yes, ... to Ireland. I have said what I think, and can go anywhere now.'

32 'Jane, be still; don't struggle so, like a wild bird.'

33 'I am no bird. I am a free human being with an independent will, which I now use to leave you.'

34 Another effort set me free.

35 'And your will shall decide your fate,' he said. 'I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions.'

36 I was silent. I thought he was laughing at me.

37 'Do you doubt me, Jane?'

38 'Entirely.'

39 'You have no faith in me?'

40 'Not a bit.'

41 'Am I a liar in your eyes?' he asked passionately. 'Little doubter, I will make you believe me! What love have I for Miss Ingram? None. What love has she for me? I caused a story to reach her that my fortune was not a third of what was supposed, and when I visited her to see the result, it was coldness from her and her mother. I would not—I could not—marry Miss Ingram. I have only tried to make you jealous. You, I love as myself. You—poor and humble, and small and plain as you are—I beg you to accept me as a husband.'

42 I began—with his earnestness and especially his plain speaking—to believe in his sincerity.

43 'Do you truly love me? Do you really wish me to be your wife?'

44 'I do. I am willing to swear it.'

45 'Then I will marry you.'

46 He drew me to him. 'Make my happiness—I will make yours. God pardon me! Let not man interfere with me: I have her and will keep her.'

47 'There is no one to interfere, sir. I have no relations to interfere.'

48 'No—that is the best of it,' he said. If I had loved him less, I might have thought his voice and look of victory wild. 'I know that my God approves of what I do. For the world's judgment, I care nothing.'

49 But what had happened to the night? The moon was clouded over, and wind roared in the avenue. A spark sprang out of the sky, and there was a crack, a crash.

50 'We must go in,' said Mr Rochester, 'The weather is changing. I could have sat with you till morning, Jane.'

51 The rain rushed down. He hurried me to the house. He was shaking the water from my dress when Mrs Fairfax came out of her room. She looked pale, serious, and astonished. I only smiled at her and ran upstairs.

52 'Explanations will do for another time,' I thought.

53 The storm continued all night, with thunder, lightning and rain. In the morning little Adèle came running into my room to tell me that a great tree at the bottom of the garden had been struck by lightning and half of it split away.