Chapter 39 'Jane! Jane! Jane!'

1 Not for a moment, in the middle of these changes of place and fortune, had I forgotten Mr Rochester. The desire to know what had happened to him followed me everywhere.

2 In the course of my letters to Mr Briggs about the money left me by my uncle, I had inquired whether he knew anything of Mr Rochester's doings and state of health, but he was quite without knowledge of all concerning him. I then wrote to Mrs Fairfax, begging for information on the subject. I was astonished when two weeks passed without reply, but when two months went by, and day after day the post brought nothing for me, I began to feel the sharpest anxiety.

3 I wrote again. There was a chance that my first letter had been lost. Hope returned for a few weeks, then faded. Not a line, not a word reached me. When I had waited half a year in vain, my hope died out, and then I felt sorrowful indeed.

4 A fine spring shone around me, which I could not enjoy. Summer approached. Diana tried to cheer me up. She said I looked ill, and wished to take me for a holiday by the sea. St John opposed this. He said I did not need amusement, but employment: my present life was too aimless. He went on still further with my lessons in Hindustani, and I, like a fool, could not resist him.

5 One evening, I had come to my studies feeling sadder than usual. Hannah had told me in the morning that the postman had left something for me, and when I went down to take it, almost certain that it was the desired news at last, I found only an unimportant letter from Mr Briggs on some business. The bitter disappointment had drawn some tears from me, and now, as I sat struggling with the Indian writing, my eyes filled again.

6 St John called me to his side to read. In attempting to do this, my voice failed me. He and I were alone in the sitting room. My companion expressed no surprise at this show of feeling, nor did he question me as to its cause. He only said:

7 'We will wait for a few minutes, Jane, until you are calmer.'

8 Wiping my eyes and murmuring something about not being very well, I returned to my lesson and succeeded in completing it. St John put away my books and his, locked his desk, and said:

9 'Jane, I want to have a talk with you.'

10 He remained silent for some minutes, and then went on:

11 'Jane, I go in six weeks. I have reserved my passage on a boat which sails on June 20th.'

12 I felt as if some fate was shaping itself for me. I trembled to hear what he would say next. It came.

13 'Jane, come with me to India.'

14 The room seemed to spin round me.

15 'Oh, St John!' I cried. 'Have some mercy!'

16 He continued:

17 'God and Nature intended you for a missionary's wife. You are formed for labour, not for love. A missionary's wife you must, you shall be. You shall be mine. I claim you for the service of God.'

18 'I am not fit,' I replied.

19 'I have an answer for you—hear it. I have watched you ever since we first met. I have seen you pass several tests of character. In the village school I found you could perform, well and patiently, labour that was against your tastes and liking. By the calm with which you received the news that you had become rich, I saw that money had not too much influence over you. In the readiness with which you cut your fortune into four parts, and gave up three, I recognised that you had the power of self-sacrifice. In the obedience with which, at my wish, you gave up a study in which you were interested and adopted another because it interested me, I see a quality of the greatest use to my work. As a helper in Indian schools and among Indian women, you will be of immense value to me.'

20 'I should not live long in such a country.'

21 'Ah! You are afraid of yourself,' he said scornfully.

22 'What do you mean?'

23 'I know where your heart is. The passion that you are keeping alive is unlawful and unholy. You think of Mr Rochester.'

24 It was true. I confessed it by silence.

25 The case was very plain before me. In leaving England, I should leave a loved but empty land. Wherever Mr Rochester might be, he could be nothing to me. I must find another interest in life in place of the one lost, and what occupation could be more glorious than that offered by St John?

26 'I could decide, if I were certain,' I said at last, 'if only I were sure that it is God's will.'

27 I sincerely desired to do what was right. 'Show me, show me the right path!' I prayed to heaven. I was more excited than I had ever been.

28 All the house was still, as all except St John and myself had now gone upstairs to bed. The one candle was burnt out, the room was full of moonlight. My heart beat fast and heavily: I heard its movement. Suddenly it stood still as an inexpressible feeling ran through it. The feeling was not like an electric shock, but it was as sharp and as strange. It acted on my senses: eye and ear waited, while the flesh trembled on my bones.

29 'What have you heard? What do you see?' asked St John.

30 I saw nothing, but I heard a voice somewhere cry:

31 'Jane! Jane! Jane!'

32 It did not seem to be in the room, nor in the house, nor in the garden. It did not come out of the air, nor from under the earth, nor from above me. I heard it, and it was the voice of a human being—a known, loved, well-remembered voice—that of Edward Rochester, and it spoke in pain, wildly and urgently.

33 'I am coming!' I cried. 'Wait for me! Oh, I will come!'

34 I flew to the door and looked into the passage. It was dark. I ran out into the garden. It was empty.

35 'Where are you?' I exclaimed.

36 The distant hills repeated my cry, but all was lonely.

37 St John had followed, but I asked him to leave me. He obeyed me at once. It was my turn to command. I went up to my room, locked myself in, and fell on my knees in prayer. I rose with my mind made up, and lay down, waiting for the daylight.