“And since I cannot do it； Jane； it must have been unreal。”
“But； sir； when I said so to myself on rising this morning； and when I looked round the room to gather courage and fort from the cheerful aspect of each familiar object in full daylight； there—on the carpet—I saw what gave the distinct lie to my hypothesis；—the veil； torn from top to bottom in two halves！”
I felt Mr。 Rochester start and shudder； he hastily flung his arms round me。 “Thank God！” he exclaimed； “that if anything malignant did e near you last night； it was only the veil that was harmed。 Oh； to think what might have happened！”
He drew his breath short； and strained me so close to him； I could scarcely pant。 After some minutes’ silence； he continued； cheerily—
“Now； Ja； I’ll explain to you all about it。 It was half dream； half reality。 A woman did； I doubt not； enter your room： and that woman was—must have been—Grace Poole。 You call her a strange being yourself： from all you know； you have reason so to call her— what did she do to me？ what to Mason？ In a state between sleeping and waking； you noticed her entrance and her actions； but feverish； almost delirious as you were； you ascribed to her a goblin appearance different from her own： the long dishevelled hair； the swelled black face； the exaggerated stature； were figments of imagination； results of nightmare： the spiteful tearing of the veil was real： and it is like her。 I see you would ask why I keep such a woman in my house： when we have been married a year and a day； I will tell you； but not now。 Are you satisfied； Jane？ Do you accept my solution of the mystery？”
I reflected； and in truth it appeared to me the only possible one： satisfied I was not； but to please him I endeavoured to appear so— relieved； I certainly did feel； so I answered him with a contented smile。 And now； as it was long past one； I prepared to leave him。
“Does not Sophie sleep with Adèle in the nursery？” he asked； as I lit my candle。
“Yes； sir。”
“And there is room enough in Adèle’s little bed for you。 You must share it with her to…night； Jane： it is no wonder that the incident you have related should make you nervous； and I would rather you did not sleep alone： promise me to go to the nursery。”
“I shall be very glad to do so； sir。”
“And fasten the door securely on the inside。 Wake Sophie when you go upstairs； under pretence of requesting her to rouse you in good time to…morrow； for you must be dressed and have finished breakfast before eight。 And now； no more sombre thoughts： chase dull care away； Ja。 Don’t you hear to what soft whispers the wind has fallen？ and there is no more beating of rain against the window… panes： look here” （he lifted up the curtain）—“it is a lovely night！”
It was。 Half heaven was pure and stainless： the clouds； now trooping before the wind； which had shifted to the west； were filing off eastward in long； silvered columns。 The moon shone peacefully。
“Well；” said Mr。 Rochester； gazing inquiringly into my eyes； “how is my Ja now？”
“The night is serene； sir； and so am I。”
“And you will not dream of separation and sorrow to…night； but of happy love and blissful union。”
This prediction was but half fulfilled： I did not indeed dream of sorrow； but as little did I dream of joy； for I never slept at all。 With little Adèle in my arms； I watched the slumber of childhood—so tranquil； so passionless； so innocent—and waited for the ing day： all my life was awake and astir in my frame： and as soon as the sun rose I rose too。 I remember Adèle clung to me as I left her： I remember I kissed her as I loosened her little hands from my neck； and I cried over her with strange emotion； and quitted her because I feared my sobs would break her still sound repose。 She seemed the emblem of my past life； and he I was now to array myself to meet； the dread； but adored； type of my unknown future day。
Chapter 26
Sophie came at seven to dress me： she was very long indeed in acplishing her task； so long that Mr。 Rochester； grown； I suppose； impatient of my delay； sent up to ask why I did not e。 She was just fastening my veil （the plain square of blond after all） to my hair with a brooch； I hurried from under her hands as soon as I could。
“Stop！” she cried in French。 “Look at yourself in the mirror： you have not taken one peep。”
So I turned at the door： I saw a robed and veiled figure； so unlike my usual self that it seemed almost the image of a stranger。 “Jane！” called a voice； and I hastened down。 I was received at the foot of the stairs by Mr。 Rochester。
“Lingerer！” he said； “my brain is on fire with impatience； and you tarry so long！”
He took me into the dining…room； surveyed me keenly all over； pronounced me “fair as a lily； and not only the pride of his life； but the desire of his eyes；” and then telling me he would give me but ten minutes to eat some breakfast； he rang the bell。 One of his lately hired servants； a footman； answered it。
“Is John getting the carriage ready？”
“Yes； sir。”
“Is the luggage brought down？”
“They are bringing it down； sir。”
“Go you to the church： see if Mr。 Wood （the clergyman） and the clerk are there： return and tell me。”
The church； as the reader knows； was but just beyond the gates； the footman soon returned。
“Mr。 Wood is in the vestry； sir； putting on his surplice。”
“And the carriage？”
“The horses are harnessing。”
“We shall not want it to go to church； but it must be ready the moment we return： all the boxes and luggage arranged and strapped on； and the coachman in his seat。”
“Yes； sir。”
“Jane； are you ready？”
I rose。 There were no groomsmen； no bridesmaids； no relatives to wait for or marshal： none but Mr。 Rochester and I。 Mrs。 Fairfax stood in the hall as we passed。 I would fain have spoken to her； but my hand was held by a grasp of iron： I was hurried along by a stride I could hardly follow； and to look at Mr。 Rochester’s face was to feel that not a second of delay would be tolerated for any purpose。 I wonder what other bridegroom ever looked as he did—so bent up to a purpose； so grimly resolute： or who； under such steadfast brows； ever revealed such flaming and flashing eyes。
I know not whether the day was fair or foul； in descending the drive； I gazed neither on sky nor earth： my heart was with my eyes； and both seemed migrated into Mr。 Rochester’s frame。 I wanted to see the invisible thing on which； as we went along； he appeared to fasten a glance fierce and fell。 I wanted to feel the thoughts whose force he seemed breasting and resisting。
At the churchyard wicket he stopped： he discovered I was quite out of breath。 “Am I cruel in my love？” he said。 “Delay an instant： lean on me； Jane。”
And now I can recall the picture of the grey old house of God rising calm before me； of a rook wheeling round the steeple； of a ruddy morning sky beyond。 I remember something； too； of the green grave… mounds； and I have not forgotten； either； two figures of strangers straying amongst the low hillocks and reading the mementoes graven on the few mossy head…stones。 I noticed them； because； as they saw us； they passed round to the back of the church； and I doubted not they were going to enter by the side…aisle door and witness the ceremony。 By Mr。 Rochester they were not observed； he was earnestly looking at my face from which the blood had； I daresay； momentarily fled： for I felt my forehead dewy； and my cheeks and lips cold。 When I rallied； which I soon did； he walked gently with me up the path to the porch。
ple； the priest waited in his white surplice at the lowly altar； the clerk beside him。 All was still： two shadows only moved in a remote corner。 My conjecture had been correct： the strangers had slipped in before us； and they now stood by the vault of the Rochesters； their backs towards us； viewing through the rails the old time…stained marble tomb； where a kneeling angel guarded the remains of Damer de Rochester； slain at Marston Moor in the time of the civil wars； and of Elizabeth； his wife。
Our place was taken at the munion rails。 Hearing a cautious step behind me； I glanced over my shoulder： one of the strangers—a gentleman； evidently—was advancing up the chancel。 The service began。 The explanation of the intent of matrimony was gone through； and then the clergyman came a step further forward； and； bending slightly towards Mr。 Rochester； went on。
“I require and charge you both （as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment； when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed）； that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together in matrimony； ye do now confess it； for be ye well assured that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God’s Word doth allow； are not joined together by God； neither is their matrimony lawful。”
He paused； as the custom is。 When is the pause after that sentence ever broken by reply？ Not； perhaps； once in a hundred years。 And the clergyman； who had not lifted his eyes from his book； and had held his breath but for a moment； was proceeding： his hand was already stretched towards Mr。 Rochester； as his lips unclosed to ask； “Wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife？”—when a distinct and near voice said—
“The marriage cannot go on： I declare the existence of an impediment。”
The clergyman looked up at the speaker and stood mute； the clerk did the same； Mr。 Rochester moved slightly； as if an earthquake had rolled under his feet： taking a firmer footing； and not turning his head or eyes； he said； “Proceed。”
Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word； with deep but low intonation。 Presently Mr。 Wood said—
“I cannot proceed without some investigation into what has been asserted； and evidence of its truth or falsehood。”
“The ceremony is quite broken off；” subjoined the voice behind us。 “I am in a condition to prove my allegation： an insuperable impediment to this marriage exists。”
Mr。 Rochester heard； but heeded not： he stood stubborn and rigid； making no movement but to possess himself of my hand。 What a hot and strong grasp he had！ and hoarble was his pale； firm； massive front at this moment！ How his eye shone； still watchful； and yet wild beneath！
Mr。 Wood seemed at a loss。 “What is the nature of the impediment？” he asked。 “Perhaps it may be got over—explained away？”
“Hardly；” was the answer。 “I have called it insuperable； and I speak advisedly。”
The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails。 He continued； uttering each word distinctly； calmly； steadily； but not loudly—
“It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage。 Mr。 Rochester has a wife now living。”
My nerves vibrated to those low…spoken words as they had never vibrated to thunder—my blood felt their subtle violence as it had never felt frost or fire； but I was collected； and in no danger of swooning。 I looked at Mr。 Rochester： I made him look at me。 His whole face was colourless rock： his eye was both spark and flint。 He disavowed nothing： he seemed as if he would defy all things。 Without speaking； without smiling； without seeming to recognise in me a human being； he only twined my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side。
“Who are you？” he asked of the intruder。
“My name is Briggs； a solicitor of—Street；