Darcys Story - Janet Aylmer

H: The Story of Heathcliff's Journey Back to Wuthering Heights - Lin Haire-Sargeant

Voicing silence - rewriting from the point of view of previously marginalised protagonists
Rosencrantz and uildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard
!ali"an's Hour - Tad Williams
#an $riday - A. . Hope
%stella& her e'(ectations - Sue !oe
Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean !hys
"!S !#$H%ST%!
Jane %yre
$harlotte &ront'
"rs. (airfa) staid *ehind a moment to fasten the trap-door+ ,- *y dint of groping- found the outlet from the attic-
and proceeded to descend the narrow garret staircase. , lingered in the long passage to which this led- separating
the front and *ac. rooms of the third story/ narrow- low- and dim- with only one little window at the far end- and
loo.ing- with its two rows of small *lac. doors all shut- like a corridor in some Bluebeard's castle.
While , paced softly on- the last sound I expected to hear in so still a region, a laugh, struck my ear. It was
a curious laugh; distinct, formal, mirthless. , stopped/ the sound ceased- only for an instant+ it *egan again-
louder/ for at first- though distinct- it was very low. ,t passed off in a clamorous peal that seemed to wa.e an
echo in every lonely cham*er+ though it originated *ut in one- and , could have pointed out the door whence the
accents issued.
0"rs. (airfa)12 , called out/ for , now heard her descending the great stairs. 0id you hear that loud laugh3 Who
is it32
0Some of the servants- very li.ely-2 she answered/ 0perhaps Grace Poole.2
0id you hear it32 , again in4uired.
05es- plainly/ , often hear her+ she sews in one of these rooms. Sometimes Leah is with her/ they are fre4uently
noisy together.2
he laugh was repeated in its low, syllabic tone, and terminated in an odd murmur.
06race12 e)claimed "rs. (airfa).
, really did not e)pect any 6race to answer/ for the laugh was as tragic, as preternatural a laugh as any I
e!er heard+ and- *ut that it was high noon- and that no circumstance of ghostliness accompanied the curious
cachinnation+ *ut that neither scene nor season favored fear- , should have *een superstitiously afraid. However-
the event showed me , was a fool for entertaining a sense even of surprise.
The door nearest me opened- and a ser!ant came out " a woman of between thirty and forty; a set, s#uare$
made figure, red$haired, and with a hard, plain face% any apparition less romantic or less ghostly could
scarcely be concei!ed.
0Too much noise- 6race-2 said "rs. (airfa). 0!emem*er directions12 6race curtsied silently and went in.
0She is a person we have to sew and assist Leah in her house-maid7s wor.-2 continued the widow+ 0not
altogether uno*8ectiona*le in some points- *ut she does well enough. &y-the-*y- how have you got on with your
new pupil this morning32 9:;
When thus alone- I not unfre#uently heard Grace Poole&s laugh% the same peal, the same low, slow ha' ha'
which, when first heard, had thrilled me% I heard, too, her eccentric murmurs; stranger than her laugh.
There were days when she was 4uite silent+ *ut there were others when I could not account for the sounds she
made. Sometimes , saw her/ she would come out of her room with a *asin- or a plate- or a tray in her hand- go
down to the .itchen and shortly return- generally <oh- romantic reader- forgive me for telling the plain truth1=
*earing a pot of porter. (er appearance always acted as a damper to the curiosity raised by her oral
oddities% hard$featured and staid, she had no point to which interest could attach. I made some attempts
to draw her into con!ersation, but she seemed a person of few words% a monosyllabic reply usually cut
short e!ery effort of that sort. 9:;
, tried again to sleep+ *ut my heart *eat an)iously/ my inward tran4uility was *ro.en. The cloc.- far down in the
hall- struc. two. Just then it seemed my chamber door was touched; as if fingers had swept the panels in
groping away along the dark gallery outside. , said- 0Who is there32 >othing answered. , was chilled with
fear.
All at once , remem*ered that it might *e ?ilot/ who when the .itchen door chanced to *e left open- not
unfre4uently found his way up to the threshhold of "r. !ochester7s cham*er/ , had seen him lying there myself-
in the mornings. The idea calmed me somewhat/ , lay down. Silence composes the nerves+ and as an un*ro.en
hush now reigned again through the whole house- , *egan to feel the return of slum*er. &ut it was not fated that ,
should sleep that night. A dream had scarcely approached my ear- when it fled affrighted- scared *y a marrow-
free@ing incident enough.
his was a demoniac laugh " low, suppressed, and deep " uttered, as it seemed, at the !ery key$hole of
my chamber door. The head of my *ed was near the door- and , thought at first the goblin$laugher stood at my
*edsideAor rather- crouched *y my pillow/ *ut , rose- loo.ed round- and could see nothing+ while- as , still
ga@ed- the unnatural sound was reiterated/ and , .new it came from *ehind the panels. "y first impulse was to
rise and fasten the *olt/ my ne)t- again to cry out- 0Who is there32
)omething gurgled and moaned. %re long- steps retreated up the gallery toward the third-story staircase/ a door
had lately *een made to shut in that staircase/ , heard it open and close- and all was still.
0*as that Grace Poole+ and is she possessed with a de!il32 thought ,. ,mpossi*le now to remain longer *y
myself/ , must go to "rs. (airfa). , hurried on my froc. and a shawl+ , withdrew the *olt- and opened the door
with a trem*ling hand. There was a candle *urning 8ust outside- left on the matting in the gallery. , was surprised
at the circumstance/ *ut still more was , ama@ed to perceive the air 4uite dim- as if filled with smo.e+ and- while
loo.ing to the right hand and left- to find whence these *lue wreaths issued- , *ecame further aware of a strong
smell of *urning.
Something crea.ed+ it was a door a8ar+ and that door was "r. !ochester7s- and the smo.e rushed in a cloud from
thence. , thought no more of "rs. (airfa)+ , thought no more of 6race ?oole or the laugh/ in an instant , was
within the cham*er. ongues of flame darted round the bed; the curtains were on fire. ,n the midst of *la@e
and vapor- "r. !ochester lay stretched motionless- in deep sleep.
0Wa.e1 wa.e12 , cried.A, shoo. him- *ut he only murmured and turned/ the smo.e had stupefied him. >ot a
moment could *e lost/ the very sheets were .indling. , rushed to his *asin and ewer+ fortunately- one was wide
and the other deep- and *oth were filled with water. , heaved them up- deluged the *ed and its occupant- flew
*ac. to my own room- *rought my own water-8ug- *apti@ed the couch afresh- and- *y 6od7s aid- succeeded in
e)tinguishing the flames which were devouring it.
The hiss of the 4uenched element- the *rea.age of a pitcher which , flung from my hand when , had emptied it-
and- a*ove all- the splash of the shower-*ath , had li*erally *estowed- roused "r. !ochester at last. Though it
was now dar.- , .new he was awa.e+ *ecause , heard him fulminating strange anathemas at finding himself
lying in a pool of water.
0,s there a flood32 he cried.
0>o- sir-2 , answered+ 0*ut there has *een a fire/ get up- do- you are 4uenched now+ , will fetch you a candle.2
0,n the name of all the elves in $hristendom- is that Jane ,yre32 he demanded. 0*hat ha!e you done with me,
witch, sorceress+ *ho is in the room besides you+ (a!e you plotted to drown me+2
0, will fetch you a candle- sir+ and- in Heaven7s name- get up. Some*ody has plotted something/ you can not too
soon find out who and what it is.2
0There1 A , am up now+ *ut at your peril you fetch a candle yet/ wait two minutes till , get into some dry
garments- if any dry there *e A yes- here is my dressing-gown. >ow run12
, did run+ , *rought the candle which still remained in the gallery. He too. it from my hand- held it up- and
surveyed the *ed- all *lac.ened and scorched- the sheets drenched- the carpet round swimming in water.
0What is it3 and who did it32 he as.ed.
, *riefly related to him what had transpired/ the strange laugh I had heard in the gallery/ the step ascending to
the third story+ the smo.eAthe smell of fire which had conducted me to his room+ in what state , had found
matters there- and how , had deluged him with all the water , could lay hands on.
He listened very gravely+ his face- as , went on- e)pressed more concern than astonishment+ he did not
immediately spea. when , had concluded.
0Shall , call "rs. (airfa)32 , as.ed.
0"rs. (airfa)3 >o/ what the deuce would you call her for3 What can she do3 Let her sleep unmolested.2
0Then , will fetch Leah- and wa.e John and his wife.2
0>ot at all/ 8ust *e still. 5ou have a shawl on3 ,f you are not warm enough- you may ta.e my cloa. yonder+ wrap
it a*out you- and sit down in the armchair/ thereA, will put it on. >ow place your feet on the stool- to .eep them
out of the wet. , am going to leave you a few minutes. , shall ta.e the candle. !emain where you are till , return+
*e as still as a mouse. , must pay a visit to the third story. on7t move- remem*er- or call any one.2
He went/ , watched the light withdraw. He passed up the gallery very softly- unclosed the staircase door with as
little noise as possi*le- shut it after him- and the last ray vanished. , was left in total dar.ness. , listened for some
noise- *ut heard nothing. A very long time elapsed. , grew weary+ it was cold in spite of the cloa.+ and then , did
not see the use of staying- as , was not to rouse the house. , was on the point of ris.ing "r. !ochester7s
displeasure *y diso*eying his orders- when the light once more gleamed dimly on the gallery-wall- and , heard
his unshod feet tread the matting. -I hope it is he,. thought I, -and not something worse..
He re-entered- pale and very gloomy. 0, have found it all out-2 said he- setting his candle down on the
washstand+ 0it is as , thought.2
0How- sir32
He made no reply- *ut stood with his arms folded- loo.ing on the ground. At the end of a few minutes he
in4uired in rather a peculiar tone/ 0, forget whether you said you saw anything when you opened your cham*er
door.2
0>o- sir- only the candlestic. on the ground.2
0&ut you heard an odd laugh3 5ou have heard that laugh *efore- , should thin.- or something li.e it32
05es- sir+ there is a woman who sews here, called Grace Poole"she laughs in that way. )he is a singular
person.2
0Just so. Grace Poole"you ha!e guessed it. )he is, as you say, singular " !ery. Well- , shall reflect on the
su*8ect. "eantime- , am glad that you are the only person- *esides myself- ac4uainted with the precise details of
to-night7s incident. 5ou are no tal.ing fool/ say nothing a*out it. , will account for this state of affairs2 <pointing
to the *ed=/ 0and now return to your own room. , shall do very well on the sofa in the li*rary for the rest of the
night. ,t is near four/ in two hours the servants will *e up.2 9:;
The party were e)pected to arrive on Thursday afternoon- in time for dinner at si). uring the intervening period
, had no time to nurse chimeras+ and , *elieve , was as active and gay as any*ody A AdBle e)cepted. Still- now
and then- , received a damping chec. to my cheerfulness+ and was- in spite of myself- thrown *ac. on the region
of dou*ts and portents- and dar. con8ectures. This was when I chanced to see the third$storey staircase door
/which of late had always been kept locked0 open slowly, and gi!e passage to the form of Grace Poole, in
prim cap, white apron, and handkerchief; when I watched her glide along the gallery- her 4uiet tread
muffled in a list slipper+ when , saw her loo. into the *ustling- topsy-turvy *edrooms- A 8ust say a word-
perhaps- to the charwoman a*out the proper way to polish a grate- or clean a mar*le mantelpiece- or ta.e stains
from papered walls- and then pass on. )he would thus descend to the kitchen once a day- eat her dinner-
smo.e a moderate pipe on the hearth- and go *ac.- carrying her pot of porter with her- for her private solace- in
her own gloomy- upper haunt. 1nly one hour in the twenty$four did she pass with her fellow$ser!ants
below; all the rest of her time was spent in some low$ceiled, oaken chamber of the second storey% there she
sat and sewed " and probably laughed drearily to herself, " as companionless as a prisoner in his
dungeon.
The strangest thing of all was- that not a soul in the house, except me, noticed her habits, or seemed to
mar!el at them% no one discussed her position or employment; no one pitied her solitude or isolation. ,
once- indeed- overheard part of a dialogue *etween Leah and one of the charwomen- of which 6race formed the
su*8ect. Leah had *een saying something , had not caught- and the charwoman remar.ed A
0She gets good wages- , guess32
05es-2 said Leah+ 0, wish , had as good+ not that mine are to complain of- AthereCs no stinginess at Thornfield+
*ut theyCre not one fifth of the sum "rs. ?oole receives. And she is laying *y/ she goes every 4uarter to the *an.
at "illcote. , should not wonder *ut she has saved enough to .eep her independent if she li.ed to leave+ *ut ,
suppose sheCs got used to the place+ and then sheCs not forty yet- and strong and a*le for anything. ,t is too soon
for her to give up *usiness.2
0She is a good hand- , daresay-2 said the charwoman.
0Ah1Ashe understands what she has to do-Ano*ody *etter-2 re8oined Leah significantly+ 0and it is not every
one could fill her shoes A not for all the money she gets.2
0That it is not12 was the reply. 0, wonder whether the master A2
The charwoman was going on+ *ut here Leah turned and perceived me- and she instantly gave her companion a
nudge.
0oesnCt she .now32 , heard the woman whisper.
Leah shoo. her head- and the conversation was of course dropped. All , had gathered from it amounted to this-
A that there was a mystery at hornfield+ and that from participation in that mystery , was purposely
e)cluded. 9:;
0D, affirm and can prove that on the EFth of #cto*er A.. --- <a date of fifteen years *ac.=- ,dward 2airfax
3ochester, of hornfield (all, in the county of ---- and of (erndean "anor- in ---shire- %ngland- was married
to my sister, Bertha 4ntoinetta 5ason, daughter of 6onas 5ason, merchant, and of 4ntoinetta his wife, a
7reole, at --- church- Spanish Town- Jamaica. The record of the marriage will *e found in the register of that
churchAa copy of it is now in my possession. Signed- !ichard "ason.C2 0ThatAif a genuine documentAmay
prove , have *een married- *ut it does not prove that the woman mentioned therein as my wife is still living.2
0&igamy is an ugly word1A, meant- however- to *e a *igamist+ *ut fate has out-manoeuvred me- or ?rovidence
has chec.ed me-Aperhaps the last. I am little better than a de!il at this moment+ and- as my pastor there
would tell me- deserve no dou*t the sternest 8udgments of 6od- even to the 4uenchless fire and deathless worm.
6entlemen- my plan is *ro.en up/Awhat this lawyer and his client say is true/ I ha!e been married, and the
woman to whom I was married li!es1 5ou say you never heard of a 5rs. 3ochester at the house up yonder-
Wood+ *ut , daresay you have many a time inclined your ear to gossip a*out the mysterious lunatic kept there
under watch and ward. Some have whispered to you that she is my *astard half-sister/ some- my cast-off
mistress. , now inform you that she is my wife, whom I married fifteen years ago,"Bertha 5ason by name+
sister of this resolute personage- who is now- with his 4uivering lim*s and white chee.s- showing you what a
stout heart men may *ear. $heer up- ic.1Anever fear me1A,Cd almost as soon stri.e a woman as you. Bertha
5ason is mad; and she came of a mad family; idiots and maniacs through three generations' (er mother,
the 7reole, was both a madwoman and a drunkard'"as I found out after I had wed the daughter% for
they were silent on family secrets before. Bertha, like a dutiful child, copied her parent in both points. I
had a charming partner"pure, wise, modest% you can fancy I was a happy man. I went through rich
scenes' #h1 my e)perience has *een heavenly- if you only .new it1 &ut , owe you no further e)planation.
&riggs- Wood- "ason- , invite you all to come up to the house and visit 5rs. Poole&s patient, and my wife1
8ou shall see what sort of a being I was cheated into espousing, and 9udge whether or not I had a right to
break the compact, and seek sympathy with something at least human. This girl-2 he continued- loo.ing at
me- 0.new no more than you- Wood- of the disgusting secret/ she thought all was fair and legal and never dreamt
she was going to *e entrapped into a feigned union with a defrauded wretch- already *ound to a bad, mad, and
embruted partner1 $ome all of youAfollow12 9:;
He passed on and ascended the stairs- still holding my hand- and still *ec.oning the gentlemen to follow
him- which they did. We mounted the first staircase- passed up the gallery- proceeded to the third storey/ the
low- *lac. door- opened *y "r. !ochesterCs master-.ey- admitted us to the tapestried room- with its great
*ed and its pictorial ca*inet.
05ou .now this place- "ason-2 said our guide+ 0she *it and sta**ed you here.2
He lifted the hangings from the wall- uncovering the second door/ this- too- he opened. ,n a room without a
window- there *urnt a fire guarded *y a high and strong fender- and a lamp suspended from the ceiling *y a
chain. 6race ?oole *ent over the fire- apparently coo.ing something in a saucepan. In the deep shade, at
the farther end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. *hat it was, whether beast or
human being, one could not, at first sight, tell% it gro!elled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and
growled like some strange wild animal% but it was co!ered with clothing, and a #uantity of dark,
gri::led hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.
06ood-morrow- "rs. ?oole12 said "r. !ochester. 0How are you3 and how is your charge to-day32
0WeCre tolera*le- sir- , than. you-2 replied 6race- lifting the *oiling mess carefully on to the ho*/ 0rather
snappish- *ut not Drageous.2
4 fierce cry seemed to gi!e the lie to her fa!ourable report% the clothed hyena rose up, and stood tall on its
hind$feet. 0Ah1 sir- she sees you12 e)claimed 6race/ 0youCd *etter not stay.2 0#nly a few moments- 6race- you
must allow me a few moments.2 0Ta.e care then- sir1Afor 6odCs sa.e- ta.e care12
he maniac bellowed% she parted her shaggy locks from her !isage, and ga:ed wildly at her !isitors. I
recognised well that purple face,"those bloated features. "rs. ?oole advanced. 0Geep out of the way-2 said
"r. !ochester- thrusting her aside/ 0she has no .nife now- , suppose- and ,Cm on my guard.2 0#ne never .nows
what she has- sir/ she is so cunning% it is not in mortal discretion to fathom her craft.2 0We had *etter leave
her-2 whispered "ason.
06o to the devil12 was his *rother-in-lawCs recommendation.
0Ware12 cried 6race. The three gentlemen retreated. simultaneously. "r. !ochester flung me *ehind him/ the
lunatic sprang and grappled his throat !iciously, and laid her teeth to his cheek% they struggled. )he was a
big woman, in stature almost e#ualling her husband, and corpulent besides% she showed !irile force in the
contest " more than once she almost throttled him, athletic as he was. He could have settled her with a
well-planted *low+ *ut he would not stri.e/ he would only wrestle. At last he mastered her arms+ 6race ?oole
gave him a cord- and he pinioned them *ehind her/ with more rope- which was at hand- he *ound her to a chair.
The operation was performed amidst the fiercest yells and the most con!ulsi!e plunges. "r. !ochester then
turned to the spectators/ he loo.ed at them with a smile *oth acrid and desolate.
0That is )y *ife-2 said he. 0Such is the sole con8ugal em*race , am ever to .nowAsuch are the endearments
which are to solace my leisure hours1 And this is what , wished to have2 <laying his hand on my shoulder=/ 0this
young girl, who stands so gra!e and #uiet at the mouth of hell, looking collectedly at the gambols of a
demon, I wanted her 9ust as a change after that fierce ragout. Wood and &riggs- look at the difference'
7ompare these clear eyes with the red balls yonder"this face with that mask"this form with that bulk+
then 8udge me- priest of the gospel and man of the law- and remem*er with what 8udgment ye 8udge ye shall *e
8udged1 #ff with you now. , must shut up my pri@e.2
0, am a fool12 cried "r. !ochester- suddenly. 0, .eep telling her , am not married- and do not e)plain to her why.
, forget she .nows nothing of the character of that woman, or of the circumstances attending my infernal
union with her. #h- , am certain Jane will agree with me in opinion- when she .nows all that , .now1 Just put
your hand in mine- JanetAthat , may have the evidence of touch as well as sight- to prove you are near meAand
, will in a few words show you the real state of the case. $an you listen to me32
05es- sir+ for hours if you will.2
0, as. only minutes. Jane- did you ever hear or .now- that , was not the eldest son of my house+ that , had once a
*rother older than ,32
0, remem*er "rs. (airfa) told me so once.2
0And did you ever hear that my father was an avaricious- grasping man32
0, have understood something to that effect.2
0Well- Jane- *eing so- it was his resolution to .eep the property together+ he could not *ear the idea of dividing
his estate and leaving me a fair portion/ all- he resolved- should go to my *rother- !owland. 5et as little could he
endure that a son of his should *e a poor man. I must be pro!ided for by a wealthy marriage. (e sought me a
partner betimes. "r. "ason- a West ,ndia planter and merchant- was his old ac4uaintance. He was certain his
possessions were real and vast/ he made in4uiries. 5r. 5ason, he found, had a son and daughter; and he
learned from him that he could and would gi!e the latter a fortune of thirty thousand pounds% that
sufficed. *hen I left college, I was sent out to 6amaica, to espouse a bride already courted for me. 5y
father said nothing about her money; but he told me 5iss 5ason was the boast of )panish own for her
beauty% and this was no lie. I found her a fine woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram; tall, dark, and
ma9estic. (er family wished to secure me, because I was of a good race; and so did she. hey showed her
to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom saw her alone, and had !ery little pri!ate con!ersation with
her. )he flattered me, and la!ishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and accomplishments. 4ll the
men in her circle seemed to admire her, and en!y me. I was da::led, stimulated% my senses were excited;
and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I lo!ed her. There is no folly so *esotted that the
idiotic rivalries of society- the prurience- the rashness- the *lindness of youth- will not hurry a man to its
commission. Her relatives encouraged me+ competitors pi4ued me+ she allured me/ a marriage was achieved
almost *efore , .new where , was. #h- , have no respect for myself when , thin. of that act1Aan agony of
inward contempt masters me. I ne!er lo!ed, I ne!er esteemed, I did not e!en know her. I was not sure of the
existence of one !irtue in her nature% I had marked neither modesty, nor bene!olence, nor candor, nor
refinement in her mind or manners"and, I married her% gross- groveling- mole-eyed *loc.head that , was1
With less sin , might haveA*ut let me remem*er to whom , am spea.ing.2
05y bride's mother I had ne!er seen% I understood she was dead. he honey$moon o!er, I learned my
mistake; she was only mad, and shut up in a lunatic asylum. here was a younger brother, too; a complete
dumb idiot. The elder one- whom you have seen <and whom , can not hate- while , a*hor all his .indred-
*ecause he has some grains of affection in his fee*le mind+ shown in the continued interest he ta.es in his
wretched sister- and also in a dog-li.e attachment he once *ore me=- will pro*a*ly *e in the same state one day.
"y father- and my *rother !owland- .new all this+ *ut they thought only of the thirty thousand pounds- and
8oined in the plot against me.2
0These were vile discoveries+ *ut e)cept for the treachery of concealment- , should have made them no su*8ect
of reproach to my wife/ even when I found her nature wholly alien to mine, her tastes obnoxious to me, her
caste of mind common, low, narrow, and singularly incapable of being led to anything higher, expanded to
anything larger"when I found that I could not pass a single e!ening, nor e!en a single hour of the day,
with her in comfort% that kindly con!ersation could not be sustained between us, because whate!er topic I
started, immediately recei!ed from her a turn at once coarse and trite, per!erse and imbecile"when I
percei!ed that I should ne!er ha!e a #uiet or settled household, because no ser!ant would bear the
continued outbreaks of her !iolent and unreasonable temper, or the !exations of her absurd,
contradictory, exacting ordersAeven then , restrained myself+ , eschewed up*raiding- , curtailed
remonstrance+ , tried to devour my repentance and disgust in secret+ , repressed the deep antipathy , felt.
0Jane- , will not trou*le you with a*omina*le details/ some strong words shall e)press what , have to say. I li!ed
with that woman up stairs four years, and before that time she had tried me indeed% her character ripened
and de!eloped with frightful rapidity; her !ices sprang up fast and rank% they were so strong, only cruelty
could check them; and I would not use cruelty. *hat a pigmy intellect she had"and what giant
propensities' (ow fearful were the curses those propensities entailed on me' Bertha 5ason"the true
daughter of an infamous mother"dragged me through all the hideous and degrading agonies which must
attend a man bound to a wife at once intemperate and unchaste.
0"y *rother in the interval was dead+ and at the end of the four years my father died too. , was rich enough now
A yet poor to hideous indigence/ a nature the most gross, impure, depra!ed I e!er saw, was associated with
mine, and called by the law and by society a part of me. And , could not rid myself of it *y any legal
proceedings/ for the doctors now disco!ered that my wife was mad"her excesses had prematurely
de!eloped the germs of insanity/ Jane- you don7t li.e my narrative+ you loo. almost sic.Ashall , defer the rest
to another day32
0>o- sir- finish it now/ , pity youA, do earnestly pity you.2
0?ity- Jane- from some people is a no)ious and insulting sort of tri*ute which one is 8ustified in hurling *ac. in
the teeth of those who offer it+ *ut that is the sort of pity native to callous selfish hearts/ it is a hy*rid- egotistical
pain at hearing of woes- crossed with ignorant contempt for those who have endured them. &ut that is not your
pity- Jane/ it is not the feeling of which your whole face is full at this momentAwith which your eyes are now
almost overflowingAwith which your heart is heavingAwith which your hand is trem*ling in mine. 5our pity-
my darling- is the suffering mother of love+ its anguish is the very natal pang of the divine passion. , accept it-
Jane+ let the daughter have free adventAmy arms wait to receive her.2
0>ow- sir- proceed/ what did you do when you found she was mad32
0Jane- , approached the verge of despair/ a remnant of self-respect was all that intervened *etween me and the
gulf. ,n the eyes of the world , was dou*tless covered with grimy dishonor/ *ut , resolved to *e clean in my own
sightAand to the last I repudiated the contamination of her crimes and wrenched myself from connection
with her mental defects. )till, society associated my name and person with hers' , yet saw her and heard her
daily/ something of her *reath <faugh1= mi)ed with the air , *reathed+ and *esides- , remem*ered , had once *een
her hus*andAthat recollection was then- and is now- ine)pressi*ly odious to me/ moreover- , .new that while
she lived , could never *e the hus*and of another and *etter wife+ and though fi!e years my senior /her family
and her father had lied to me e!en in the particular of her age0, she was likely to li!e as long as I, being as
robust in frame as she was infirm in mind. Thus- at the age of twenty-si) , was hopeless.
01ne night I had been awakened by her yellsA<since the medical men had pronounced her mad she had- of
course- *een shut up=Ait was a fiery *est Indian night+ one of the description that fre4uently precede the
hurricanes of those climates+ *eing una*le to sleep in *ed , got up and opened the window. The air was li.e
sulphur-steamsA, could find no refreshment anywhere. "os4uitoes came *u@@ing in and hummed sullenly
round the room+ the sea- which , could hear from thence- rum*led dull li.e an earth4ua.eA *lac. clouds were
casting up over it+ the moon was setting in the waves- *road and red- li.e a hot cannon-*allAshe threw her last
*loody glance over a world 4uivering with the ferment of tempest. , was physically influenced *y the
atmosphere and scene- and my ears were filled with the curses the maniac still shrieked out, wherein she
momentarily mingled my name with such a tone of demon$hate, with such language'"no professed harlot
e!er had a fouler !ocabulary than she/ though two rooms off- , heard every wordAthe thin partitions of the
West ,ndia house opposing *ut slight o*struction to her wolfish cries.
0DThis life-C said , at last- Dis hell1 this is the airAthose are the sounds of the *ottomless pit1 , have a right to
deliver myself from it if , can. The sufferings of this mortal state will leave me with the heavy flesh that now
cum*ers my soul. #f the fanatic7s *urning eternity , have no fear/ there is not a future state worse than this
present oneAlet me *rea. away and go home to 6od1C
0, said this while , .nelt down at and unloc.ed a trun. which contained a *race of loaded pistols+ , meant to
shoot myself. , only entertained the intention for a moment+ for not *eing insane- the crisis of e)4uisite and
unalloyed despair which had originated the wish and design of self-destruction was past in a second.
0A wind fresh from %urope *lew over the ocean and rushed through the open casement+ the storm *ro.e-
streamed- thundered- *la@ed- and the air grew pure. , then framed and fi)ed a resolution. While , wal.ed under
the dripping orange-trees of my wet garden- and among its drenched pomegranates and pine-apples- and while
the refulgent dawn of the tropics .indled round meA, reasoned thus- Jane/ and now listen+ for it was true
Wisdom that consoled me in that hour- and showed me the right path to follow.
0he sweet wind from ,urope was still whispering in the refreshed lea!es, and the 4tlantic was
thundering in glorious liberty+ my heart- dried up and scorched for a long time- swelled to the tone and filled
with living *loodAmy *eing longed for renewalAmy soul thirsted for a pure draught. , saw Hope reviveAand
felt !egeneration possi*le. (rom a flowery arch at the *ottom of my garden , ga@ed over the seaA*luer than the
s.y/ the #ld World was *eyond+ clear prospects opened thus/
0D6o-C said Hope- Dand live again in %urope/ there it is not .nown what a sullied name you *ear- nor what a filthy
*urden is *ound to you. 8ou may take the maniac with you to ,ngland; confine her with due attendance
and precautions at hornfield% then tra!el yourself to what clime you will, and form what new tie you like.
hat woman, who has so abused your long$suffering"so sullied your name; so outraged your honor, so
blighted your youth"is not your wife; nor are you her husband. )ee that she is cared for as her condition
demands, and you ha!e done all that God and (umanity re#uire of you. ;et her identity, her connection
with yourself, be buried in obli!ion% you are bound to impart them to no li!ing being. Place her in safety
and comfort% shelter her degradation with secrecy, and lea!e her.&
0, acted precisely on this suggestion. "y father and *rother had not made my marriage .nown to their
ac4uaintance+ *ecause in the very first letter , wrote to apprise them of the unionAhaving already *egun to
e)perience e)treme disgust of the conse4uences+ and from the family character and constitution- seeing a
hideous future opening to meA, added an urgent charge to .eep it secret/ and very soon the infamous conduct of
the wife my father had selected for me- was such as to ma.e him *lush to own her as his daughter-in-law. (ar
from desiring to pu*lish the connection- he *ecame as an)ious to conceal it as myself.
0To %ngland- then- , conveyed her+ a fearful voyage , had with such a monster in the vessel. 6lad was , when ,
at last got her to hornfield, and saw her safely lodged in that third$story room, of whose secret inner
cabinet she has now for ten years made a wild beast's den"a goblin's cell. , had some trou*le in finding an
attendant for her/ as it was necessary to select one on whose fidelity dependence could *e placed+ for her ravings
would inevita*ly *etray my secret/ *esides- she had lucid intervals of daysAsometimes wee.sAwhich she filled
up with a*use of me. 4t last I hired Grace Poole, from the Grimbsy 3etreat. She and the surgeon- $arter
<who dressed "ason7s wounds that night he was sta**ed and worried=- are the only two , have ever admitted to
my confidence. "rs. (airfa) may indeed have suspected something+ *ut she could have gained no precise
.nowledge as to facts. 6race has- on the whole- proved a good .eeper+ though- owing partly to a fault of her
own- of which it appears nothing can cure her- and which is incident to her harassing profession- her vigilance
has *een more than once lulled and *affled. he lunatic is both cunning and malignant; she has ne!er failed
to take ad!antage of her guardian's temporary lapses; once to secrete the knife with which she stabbed
her brother, and twice to possess herself of the key of her cell, and issue therefrom in the night$time. 1n
the first of these occasions, she perpetrated the attempt to burn me in my bed; on the second, she paid that
ghastly !isit to you. I thank Pro!idence, who watched o!er you, that she then spent her fury on your
wedding apparel; which perhaps brought back !ague reminiscences of her own bridal days% but on what
might ha!e happened, I cannot endure to reflect. *hen I think of the thing which flew at my throat this
morning, hanging its black and scarlet !isage o!er the nest of my do!e, my blood curdlesA2
0And what- sir-2 , as.ed- while he paused- 0did you do when you had settled her here3 Where did you go32
0What did , do- Jane3 , transformed myself into a will-oC-the-wisp. Where did , go3 , pursued wanderings as
wild as those of the "arch spirit. , sought the $ontinent- and went devious ways through all its lands. 5y fixed
desire was to seek and find a good and intelligent woman, whom I could lo!e% a contrast to the fury I left
at hornfieldA2
0&ut you could not marry- sir.2
0, had determined- and was convinced that , could and ought. ,t was not my original intention to deceive- as ,
have deceived you. , meant to tell my tale plainly- and ma.e my proposals openly/ and it appeared to me so
a*solutely rational that , should *e considered free to love and *e loved- , never dou*ted some woman might *e
found willing and a*le to understand my case and accept me- in spite of the curse with which , was *urdened.2
0Well- sir32
0When you are in4uisitive- Jane- you always ma.e me smile. 5ou open your eyes li.e an eager *ird- and ma.e
every now and then a restless movement+ as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you- and you
wanted to read the ta*let of one7s heart. &ut *efore , go on- tell me what you mean *y your DWell- sir3C ,t is a
small phrase very fre4uent with you+ and which many a time has drawn me on and on through intermina*le tal./
, don7t very well .now why.2
0, mean- What ne)t3 How did you proceed3 What came of such an event32
0?recisely/ and what do you wish to .now now32
0Whether you found any one you li.ed/ whether you as.ed her to marry you+ and what she said.2
0, can tell you whether , found any one , li.ed- and whether , as.ed her to marry me+ *ut what she said is yet to
*e recorded in the *oo. of (ate. (or ten long years , roved a*out- living first in one capital- then another/
sometimes in St. ?eters*urg- oftener in ?aris+ occasionally in !ome- >aples- and (lorence. ?rovided with plenty
of money- and the passport of an old name- , could choose my own society/ no circles were closed against me. I
sought my ideal of a woman among ,nglish ladies, 2rench countesses, Italian signoras, and German
gr<finnen. I could not find her. Sometimes- for a fleeting moment- , thought , caught a glance- heard a tone-
*eheld a form- which announced the reali@ation of my dream/ *ut , was presently undeceived. 5ou are not to
suppose that , desired perfection- either of mind or person. I longed only for what suited me"for the
antipodes of the 7reole% and I longed !ainly. Among them all , found not one whom- had , *een ever so free- ,
Awarned as , was of the ris.s- the horrors- the loathings of incongruous unionsAwould have as.ed to marry
me. isappointment made me rec.less. , tried dissipationAnever debauchery% that I hated, and hate. hat
was my Indian 5essalina's attribute/ rooted disgust at it and her restrained me much- even in pleasure. Any
en8oyment that *ordered on riot seemed to approach me to her and her vices- and , eschewed it. 9:;
0,s "r. !ochester living at Thornfield Hall now32 , as.ed- .nowing- of course- what the answer would *e- *ut
yet desirous of deferring the direct 4uestion as to where he really was.
0>o- ma7amAoh- no1 >o one is living there. , suppose you are a stranger in these parts- or you would have heard
what happened last autumnA Thornfield Hall is 4uite a ruin/ it was *urned down 8ust a*out harvest time. A
dreadful calamity1 such an immense 4uantity of valua*le property destroyed/ hardly any of the furniture could *e
saved. he fire broke out at dead of night- and *efore the engines arrived from "illcote- the *uilding was one
mass of flame. ,t was a terri*le spectacle/ , witnessed it myself.2
0At dead of night-2 , muttered. 5es- that was ever the hour of fatality at Thornfield. 0Was it .nown how it
originated32 , demanded.
0They guessed- ma7am+ they guessed. ,ndeed- , should say it was ascertained *eyond a dou*t. 5ou are not-
perhaps- aware-2 he continued- edging his chair a little nearer the ta*le- and spea.ing low- 0that there was a
lady, a " a lunatic, kept in the house32
0, have heard something of it.2
0)he was kept in !ery close confinement, ma'am; people e!en for some years were not absolutely certain
of her existence. =o one saw her% they only knew by rumor that such a person was at the (all; and who or
what she was it was difficult to con9ecture. hey said 5r. ,dward had brought her from abroad; and
some belie!ed she had been his mistress. &ut a 4ueer thing happened a year sinceAa very 4ueer thing.2
, feared now to hear my own story. , endeavored to recall him to the main fact.
0And this lady32
0his lady, ma'am-2 he answered- 0turned out to be 5r. 3ochester's wife1 The discovery was *rought a*out
in the strangest way. There was a young lady- a governess at the Hall- that "r. !ochester fell inA2
0&ut the fire-2 , suggested.
0,7m coming to that- ma7am A that "r. %dward fell in love with. The servants say they never saw any*ody so
much in love as he was+ he was after her continually. They used to watch himAservants will- you .now- ma7am
A and he set store on her past everything/ for all- no*ody *ut him thought her so very handsome. She was a
little- small thing- they say- almost li.e a child. , never saw her myself+ *ut ,7ve heard Leah- the housemaid- tell
of her. Leah li.ed her well enough. "r. !ochester was a*out forty- and his governess not twenty+ and you see-
when gentlemen of his age fall in love with girls- they are often li.e as if they were *ewitched/ well- he would
marry her.2
05ou shall tell me this part of the story another time-2 , said+ 0*ut now , have a particular reason for wishing to
hear all a*out the fire. Was it suspected that this lunatic- "rs. !ochester- had any hand in it32
05ou7ve hit it- ma7am+ it7s 4uite certain that it was her- and no*ody *ut her- that set it going. She had a woman to
ta.e care of her- called "rs. ?ooleAan a*le woman in her line- and very trustworthy- *ut for one faultAa fault
common to a deal of them nurses and matronsAshe ke(t a (ri+ate "ottle of gin "y her- and now and then too. a
drop overmuch. ,t is e)cusa*le- for she had a hard life of it/ *ut still it was dangerous+ for when "rs. ?oole was
fast asleep after the gin-and-water- the mad lady, who was as cunning as a witch, would take the keys out of
her pocket, let herself out of her chamber, and go roaming about the house, doing any wild mischief that
came into her head. hey say she had nearly burnt her husband in his bed once/ *ut , don7t .now a*out
that. However- on this night, she set fire first to the hangings of the room next her own+ and then she got
down to a lower story- and made her way to the chamber that had been the go!erness's"/she was like as if
she knew somehow how matters had gone on, and had a spite at her=Aand she .indled the *ed there+ *ut
there was no*ody sleeping in it- fortunately. The governess had run away two months *efore+ and for all "r.
!ochester sought her as if she had *een the most precious thing he had in the world- he never could hear a word
of her+ and he grew savageA4uite savage on his disappointment/ he never was a wild man- *ut he got dangerous
after he lost her. He would *e alone- too. He sent "rs. (airfa)- the house.eeper- away to her friends at a
distance+ *ut he did it handsomely- for he settled an annuity on her for life/ and she deserved itAshe was a very
good woman. "iss Adele- a ward he had- was put to school. He *ro.e off ac4uaintance with all the gentry- and
shut himself up- li.e a hermit- at the Hall.2
0What1 did he not leave %ngland32
0Leave %ngland3 &less you- no1 He would not cross the door-stones of the house A e)cept at night- when he
wal.ed 8ust li.e a ghost a*out the grounds and in the orchard as if he had lost his senses A which it is my
opinion he had+ for a more spirited- *older- .eener gentleman than he was *efore that midge of a governess
crossed him you never saw- ma7am. He was not a man given to wine- or cards- or racing- as some are- and he was
not so very handsome+ *ut he had a courage and a will of his own- if ever man had. , .new him from a *oy- you
see/ and for my part , have often wished that "iss %yre had *een sun. in the sea *efore she came to Thornfield
Hall.2
0Then "r. !ochester was at home when the fire *ro.e out.2
05es- indeed was he+ and he went up to the attics when all was *urning a*ove and *elow- and got the servants
out of their *eds and helped them down himself- and went back to get his mad wife out of her cell. And then
they called out to him that she was on the roof, where she was standing, wa!ing her arms, abo!e the
battlements, and shouting out till they could hear her a mile off% I saw her and heard her with my own
eyes. )he was a big woman, and had long black hair% we could see it streaming against the flames as she
stood. , witnessed and several more witnessed- "r. !ochester ascend through the s.y-light on to the roof/ we
heard him call >Bertha'& *e saw him approach her; and then, ma'am, she yelled and ga!e a spring, and
the next minute she lay smashed on the pa!ement.2
0ead32
0ead3 Ay- dead as the stones on which her *rains and *lood were scattered.2
06ood 6od12
05ou may well say so- ma7am/ it was frightful12
He shuddered.
0And afterward32 , urged.
0Well- ma7am- afterward the house was *urned to the ground/ there are only some *its of walls standing now.2
0Were any other lives lost32
0>oAperhaps it would have *een *etter if there had.2
0What do you mean32
0?oor "r. %dward12 he e8aculated- 0, little thought ever to have seen it1 Some say it was a 8ust 8udgment on him
for .eeping his first marriage secret and wanting to ta.e another wife while he had one living/ *ut , pity him- for
my part.2
6!A$% ?##L%
6race ?oole
?am (erris
Part ?
,7ve always thought of London as my home- *ut when , went *ac. a few years ago- , didn7t li.e it at all. on7t
.now why. "ay*e it had changed. #r , had. &eing up here- in this wild place- listening to their funny way of
tal.ing- ,7d always felt li.e some .ind of foreigner- *ut this is my home now- and , can7t thin. of a *etter one.
, was *orn in the !oyal Hospital of &ethlehem - &orough of Southwar.. ,t wasn7t that unusual for *a*ies to *e
*orn there. HWhere there7s a will there7s a way-H the .eepers used to say- and sometimes it seemed there were as
many men trying to *rea. in as there were mad women trying to *rea. out.
"y little mother- <, always thin. of her as little - she was only a*out IJ= was already *ig with me when she
arrived. They say she was trying to harm herself and refusing to spea.. Turned out she7d *een got at *y her local
minister- so the 8o.e on the women7s galleries was that she was in a HState of 6raceH - and when , arrived that7s
what they called me. "y little mother didn7t last long after , was *orn- so the second half of my name comes
from "ary ?oole. She was the *est 7mother7 anyone could want.
"ary was one of the .eepers at &edlam- and how she persuaded old r "unro to let me stay up ,7ll never .now.
&a*ies went to the wor.house. &ut , was luc.y. , was *rought up *y "ary and her friend Alice Wheatcroft. ,
started doing odd 8o*s around the Hospital when , was very young- getting coins from the ladies on the top
floor $ some of them were as sane as you or me, and were only locked up because their husbands wanted
the money. Li.e Lady 6 - she taught me all a*out fine clothing and how to sew with tiny stitches- and later on-
how to read and write. I ne!er saw the wild women on the bottom floors when I was young, but I heard
them. ,!eryone did.
When , *ecame a .eeper myself r "unro started ta.ing me out on home visits. He said , wasn7t as frightening
to his patients as some of the older women. , went all over London and saw rich people7s houses- even the
palace- *ut ,7m not supposed to tal. a*out that.
he first time I saw 5rs 3ochester she was in a deep sleep. )he'd been gi!en some calming drugs by the
apothecary and I saw with her for twel!e hours straight till she woke up. I had plenty of time to study her
in those hours. (er skin was the colour of a smooth brown egg $ black hair $ and her eyes, when they
opened, were black too $ !el!et$black not shiny$black. )he was no trouble, 9ust confused, and she spoke
some words in a language I didn't understand. he next few !isits were much the same, except I found she
could speak ,nglish. 1nce when she woke up she was upset because there was a tear in her dress so I
found her sewing basket and did an in!isible mend for her. )he seemed !ery pleased.
I didn't see her for a while, but then one day @r 5unro asked if I would consider becoming her personal
keeper at the family home up north. *hen he said how much they were willing to pay I nearly fell o!er.
2i!e times what I was getting' 4nd only one woman to look after' The octor said he would miss me- *ut
urged me to thin. a*out it. ,t wasn7t a hard decision. That night , tal.ed to "ary and Alice and though they were
sad to lose me- they .new it was a chance , couldn7t miss. , accepted the position and set off the following wee..
&limey1 , couldn7t *elieve how long the coach 8ourney was1 #nce we left London there was nothing *ut empty
fields - miles of them. , sat s4uashed in *etween two *usinessmen with my one small *ag- a present from Lady
6- on my lap. The most precious things in it were two brown bottles $ about six months supply of the calming
drops, and instructions on how to use them. (inally , was dumped at the coaching inn at "illcote and waited
there under the sign of the Three "agpies until dar.- when a small carriage drew up. H6race ?oole3H said a
man7s voice. H5es Sir-H , said- and gave him my letter of introduction. ,n it r "unro had recommended my
a*ilities- and e)plained that , had *een wor.ing at the !etreat at 6rims*y. , .new this was a lie- *ut the octor
said people were frightened of the word 7&edlam7- and warned me never to mention it. He said the !etreat
sounded a lot more respecta*le. I tried to get a look at 5r 3ochester's face as he was reading, but his head
was down and his collar was up.
We travelled in silence to Thornfield Hall- went in *y a side door and clim*ed to a small *ut comforta*le room
in the tower. 5y mistress was there, awake but !ery still. I greeted her but she ne!er stirred. 4n outer
chamber with a truckle bed was to be my new home, and that was where 5r 3ochester ga!e me my
special instructions. I was to call his wife '5adam' and encourage her to think of me as her maid, not as
her keeper. (e didn't want the rest of the household to know about her, and if I gossiped I would lose my
9ob. (e sighed often as he talked, and looked out at the floor, but ne!er at me. 4 few days later he went off
on his tra!els again, and I started to settle into my new life. he rule about not telling anyone about my
5istress was hard. I found it better to a!oid talking at all.
4fter a while I began to notice that 5adam's fits went in circles. )ometimes she was sweet and kind, but
then o!er the weeks she'd speed up till she could talk non$stop all night, and if I couldn't get her to take
her drops she'd get !iolent. 4fter a while she'd slow down again and become more melancholic til she was
completely still. )he wouldn't eat or mo!e for days. hen one day she'd say something, and the circle
would start again.
5ost of the time I managed her well enough. he only serious trouble was when the drops ran out. %very
si) months r "unro would send two *ig *ottles on the coach- and to .eep the secret- , would collect them from
the inn at "illcote- on my day off. Sometimes they were late and if she was !iolent it could be dangerous. I
knew all the ways to control lunatics, but she was strong in her ra!ings and knocked me cold more than
once. he few times she got away from me she would destroy paintings and furniture in the house and
sometimes set fires before I could stop her.
,t was hard to hide what was going on and even harder not to as. for help. , wanted to sit and tal. with the others
at the end of the day and may*e smo.e a pipe or two- li.e we did at &ethlehem- *ut they7d decided early-on that ,
was odd- and anyway , couldn7t understand what they were saying half the time. 5adam got worse$ and my
temper got shorter. here were days I'd ha!e to tie her up and get a bit of peace and I could see in those
deep black eyes that she'd tear mine out if she could. I'd stare back at her and wonder which one of us was
the mad one.
,t was my days off that saved me. #ne day a month ,7d set off after *rea.fast and wal. the eight miles to
"illcote. , found , li.ed hard wal.ing - the feeling of moving strongly over the ground was pure pleasure. ,
always arrived at the Three "agpies with my spirits high and ready for a pint. There was a small *ench round
the side and ,7d sit and loo. out over the hills and en8oy the emptiness. , had to put up with the inn.eeper teasing
me though. He7d say H(orty farsand fevers on a frushes froat-H trying to sound li.e a Londoner- *ut ,7d give as
good as , got- Heh oop lad- gess another parnt1H and he would. Then ,7d put my wages in the *an.- *uy some
treats for myself- post a letter to "ary ?oole- collect one from her if , was luc.y- then *ac. to the inn for a last
pint *efore the wal. home. The ,nn.eeper had a couple of dogs- a *ig lurcher and a little ratter he .ept for
ra**iting- and as they got to .now me they7d .eep me company for the first few miles *ac.. , tal.ed more to
those dogs than , ever did to man or woman.
I didn't ha!e much to do with the goings on in the household. )taff and guests came and went, and I'd
hardly notice. 5r 3ochester would !isit his wife now and then, but it made neither of them any happier.
1ne summer I caught a sight of him and the young go!erness together in the garden. here was
something about the way they were standing that made me look again. 8ou learn a lot about reading
bodies as a keeper $ it pays to be able to guess the next mo!e, it can sa!e your life, and I could tell there
was something between those two. )he was a plain little thing but !ery bright and I was sure she knew
about my mistress. 5aybe he had told her. *hen I first heard they were to be married I thought I must
ha!e dreamed it after too much gin. But it was true. I didn't know what to think. (ow was he going to get
away with it+ I tried for days to ha!e a word with him but he was ne!er alone. 5y head was bursting.
hen, the night before the wedding he came up to the =orth ower !ery late and the gin made me forget
my manners. I burst out crying that I'd gladly kill his wife for him, e!en though it meant me losing my
position. It would be easy, I told him $ too many drops and a pillow is all it would take. *hy should four
people be unhappy when it was so easily remedied by the death of one+ I had no fear of hell fire, I told
him, I was already condemned to it, being born out of wedlock. (e begged me to stop and confessed in
great sobs how he had often wished her dead. (e was sorely tempted now, but he had decided to send her
and me to ;ondon, on the ad!ice of @r 5unro. (e said I would be well taken care of and that he trusted
me to keep his secret. I was so choked with gratitude that I feel to my knees and grabbed both his hands.
4fter ten years I was going home'
he next day, of course, it all fell to pieces. hat brother of hers stopped the wedding. I wish now that
she'd ripped out his throat and finished him off the night she stabbed him. hey all came trooping up,
minister and all, in their wedding clothes $ to see 5r 3ochester's wife. I was wrong about the go!erness.
)he knew nothing. I could tell by her face. 5adam put on a good show of being less than human and
frightened them all away. I could ha!e charged thruppence for that at Bethlehem.
he Go!erness left and the whole house went silent, but nothing change for me. I continued to follow my
mistresses moods as best I could, and took comfort in gin.
he night of the big fire I was asleep in my chair outside 5adam's door when I heard the crash of
breaking glass. )he'd broken windows before and e!en got out onto the roof, so when I unlocked the door
I expected to see her escaping. But she must ha!e brought a chair down on the back of my head, because
the next thing I knew I came to on the floor, coughing and trying to breathe. he wind was blowing hard
up the stairs of the tower $ pulling smoke and sparks into my eyes. I had to fight to get down to the long
gallery and that was blocked by flames. I thought I could see a way through so I threw my apron o!er my
face and ran. I hit a well then half fell down the stairs.
, .new , was safe when , felt gravel under my feet. , crawled out onto the grass and pressed my face and hands
into the cold dew to ease the *urning. It was clear the house was too far gone. I sat for a long time watching
it burn while the ser!ants ran about with books and sil!er and paintings. he flames reached the roof 9ust
before dawn. It was then we all saw her up there. he wind from the fire was lifting her hair and clothes
so she looked like she might fly. I found myself muttering ABurn, *itch, Burn' 2ly or 2ry'A his made
me laugh and then cry, before I did both at once. 5r 3ochester was up there too, shouting her name. Then
she seemed to lift into the flames and , thought she really would fly away- *ut she feel - and we watched.
After a while , stood and started wal.ing in the direction of "illcote. There were no thoughts in my head- only
my legs moving.
They were having *rea.fast at the Three "agpies and were shoc.ed to see the state of me. They told me later
that the inn.eeper7s wife washed me and put me to *ed. &ut my only memory of that day is 8ust *efore , fell
asleep. , let the feather *ed ta.e the weight of my *ody and- for a moment- there was a wonderful feeling of
lightness.
As the *urns healed , started to help out in the .itchen. Small 8o*s at first then more as , was a*le. I heard that
5r 3ochester had sur!i!ed the fire and mo!ed thirty miles away to 2earndean. The *utler and the
house.eeper had found good positions and the rest of the staff had spread out and wor.ed in the near*y villages.
,t was as if my old life had never *een. The ,nn.eeper and his wife were in no hurry to get rid of me- and , was
a*le to heal slowly- until some *right pin. patches on my hands and face were all that was left to remind me of
Thornfield Hall.
, found , had a talent for pastry ma.ing- the customers often remar.ed on it- and , en8oyed the order and 4uiet of
the .itchen in the early mornings. , wasn7t so comforta*le in the hustle and *ustle when a coach came through
and they all wanted feeding at once- *ut , got used to it- and learned the names of our regulars. They were no
trou*le. he drunkest man is easier to handle than a mad woman. I found, too, that the gin had lost its
hold on me, and a mug of porter- a pipe and the *ig empty view from my *ench was all , needed. , might have
drifted on li.e that for years- with no thought of the past or future- if it hadn7t *een for a letter from Lady 6- with
news of Alice Wheatcroft7s sudden death from a stro.e. She said "ary had ta.en it *adly and was hardly a*le to
wor..
That night , stopped drifting. , had nearly eleven years7 wages in the *an.- enough to ma.e me an independent
women. When the ,nn closed- , sat down with the ,nn.eeper and his wife and we wor.ed out an arrangement that
suited all three of us.
#h that 8ourney *ac. to London - would it never end3 When the sha.ing and rattling of the carriage finally
stopped- , made my way across the Thames to Southwar.. That7s when , noticed how smelly and dirty it all was.
And the *uildings seemed smaller- even the &ethlehem. , found poor "ary and she had shrun. a *it too- *less
her. We cried to see each other again. , sat with her all night as she tal.ed her way through the events of Alice7s
life from *eginning to end and finally fell asleep when , went to fetch her some *rea.fast. ,t was clear she
couldn7t go on wor.ing much longer- and ne)t day , tal.ed her into coming *ac. to "illcote with me. , paid my
respects to Lady 6- who was as dignified and sane as ever against all the odds. , said my farewells- pac.ed up
"ary7s *elongings and too. her to the coach.
She was as shoc.ed as , was all those years ago- when she saw nothing *ut open fields- and so many of them.
"ary said she had no idea %ngland was so *ig. After the second stop to change horses , swore to myself that hell
would free@e over *efore , did that 8ourney again.
,t was good to *reathe the clean air *ac. at "illcote. After supper , paid the ,nn.eeper and his wife a share of
my savings- as agreed- and *ecame part owner of The Three "agpies. They are fair people and we divide the
wor. and the profits *etween ourselves without argument. "ary is a tough old *ird and li.es to *e useful. , give
her the sitting down 8o*s in the .itchen - peeling potatoes or shelling *eans - and she7s settled in well. &ut she7s
never got used to the view of the hills rolling away *ehind the ,nn- and sometimes , thin. she forgets where she
is. , hear the latch as she opens the *ac. door and her H#o *limey1H Then she laughs and calls out- H%h- 6race1
Who stole all the *uildings3H
I'!e been remembering the past lately, because a coach came through not long ago, and one of the faces
ga!e me a 9olt. (is hair had gone grey and he had some scarring around one eye, but I was sure it was
him. *hile the passengers were eating I had a word with the dri!er. 8es, he said that was 5r 3ochester,
and the little woman with him was his wife. , circled round them to get a *etter view as , cleared the plates
away- *ut , didn7t spea. to them - what would , have said3 When they left they loo.ed me in the face and
than.ed me for the e)cellent ra**it pie- *ut , could tell they didn7t .now me. , got a good loo. at her- though.
It was the little Go!erness from hornfield' I watched her help him back on the coach, and the shape of
their bodies told the same story as when I saw them in the garden all those years ago. I thought $ A*here
there's a will there's a way'A and then A*ho'd ha!e thought it $ after all that $ she married him.A
Wide Sargasso Sea
Jean !hys
She wore a tricorne hat which *ecame her. At least it shadowed her eyes which are too large and can *e
disconcerting. She never *lin.s at all it seems to me. ;ong, sad, dark alien eyes. 7reole of pure ,nglish
descent she may be, but they are not ,nglish or ,uropean either. 4nd when did I begin to notice all this
about my wife 4ntoinette+ After we left Spanish Town , suppose. #r did I notice it before and refuse to
admit what I saw+ =ot that I had much time to notice anything. I was married a month after I arri!ed in
6amaica and for nearly three weeks of that time I was in bed with fe!er. BCD
,!erything is too much- , felt as , rode wearily after her. Too much *lue- too much purple- too much green.
he flowers too red, the mountains too high, the hills too near. 4nd the woman is a stranger. (er pleading
expression annoys me. I ha!e not bought her, she has bought me, or so she thinks. , loo.ed down at the
coarse mane of the horse: @ear 2ather. he thirty thousand pounds ha!e been paid without #uestion or
condition. =o pro!ision made for her /that must be seen to0. , have a modest competence now. , will never *e
a disgrace to you or my dear *rother the son you love. >o *egging letters- no mean re4uests. >one of the furtive
sha**y manoeuvres of a younger son. I ha!e sold my soul or you ha!e sold it, and after all is it such a bad
bargain+ he girl is thought to be beautiful, she is beautiful. 4nd yetC 9:;
,t was a *eautiful place K wild- untouched- a*ove all untouched- with an alien- distur*ing- secret loveliness. And
it .ept its secret. ,Cd find myself thin.ing- DWhat , see is nothing K , want what it hides K that is not nothing.C
9:;
Loo.ing up smiling- she might ha!e been any pretty ,nglish girl 9:;
It was all !ery brightly coloured, !ery strange, but it meant nothing to me. =or did she, the girl I was to
marry. *hen at last I met her I bowed, smiled, kissed her hand, danced with her. I played the part I was
expected to play. )he ne!er had anything to do with me at all. ,!ery mo!ement I made was an effort of
will and sometimes I wondered that no one noticed this. I would listen to my own !oice and mar!el at it,
calm, correct but toneless, surely. But I must ha!e gi!en a faultless performance. ,f , saw an e)pression of
dou*t or curiosity it was on a *lac. face not a white one.
, remem*er little of the actual ceremony. "ar*le memorial ta*lets on the walls commemorating the virtues of
the last generation of planters. All *enevolent. All slave-owners. All resting in peace. When we came out of the
church , too. her hand. ,t was cold as ice in the hot sun. 9:; my *ride in white *ut , hardly remem*er what she
loo.ed li.e. 9:;
The morning *efore the wedding !ichard "ason *urst into my room at the (rasers as , was finishing my first
cup of coffee. DShe wonCt go through with it1C
DWonCt go through with what3C
>)he won&t marry you.&
D&ut why3C
DShe doesnCt say why.C
DShe must have some reason.C
DShe wonCt give a reason. ,Cve *een arguing with the little fool for an hour.C
We stared at each other.
D%verything arranged- the presents- the invitations. What shall , tell your father3C He seemed on the verge of
tears.
, said- DIf she won&t, she won&t. )he can&t be dragged to the altar. Let me get dressed. , must hear what she
has to say.C
He went out mee.ly and while , dressed I thought that this would indeed make a fool of me. I did not relish
going back to ,ngland in the role of re9ected suitor 9ilted by this 7reole girl. , must certainly .now why.
She was sitting in a roc.ing chair with her head *ent. Her hair was in two long plaits over her shoulders. (rom a
little distance , spo.e gently. DWhat is the matter- Antoinette3 What have , done3C
She said nothing.
D5ou donCt wish to marry me3C
D>o.C She spo.e in a very low voice.
D&ut why3C
D,Cm afraid of what may happen.C
D&ut donCt you remem*er last night , told you that when you are my wife there would not *e any more reason to
*e afraid3C
D5es-C she said. DThen !ichard came in and you laughed. I didn&t like the way you laughed.C
D&ut , was laughing at myself- Antoinette.C
She loo.ed at me and , too. her in my arms and .issed her.
D5ou donCt .now anything a*out me-C she said.
D,Cll trust you if youCll trust me. ,s that a *argain3 5ou will ma.e me very unhappy if you send me away without
telling me what , have done to displease you. , will go with a sad heart.C
D5our sad heart-C she said- and touched my face. , .issed her fervently- promising her peace- happiness- safety-
*ut when , said- D$an , tell poor !ichard that it was a mista.e3 He is sad too-C she did not answer me. #nly
nodded. 9:;
She was sitting on the sofa and I wondered why I had ne!er reali:ed how beautiful she was. Her hair was
com*ed away from her face and fell smoothly far *elow her waist. , could see the red and gold lights in it. She
seemed pleased when , complimented her on her dress and told me she had it made in St ?ierre- "artini4ue. 9:;
If she was a child she was not a stupid child but an obstinate one. )he often #uestioned me about ,ngland
and listened attenti!ely to my answers, but I was certain that nothing I said made much difference. (er
mind was already made up. )ome romantic no!el, a stray remark ne!er forgotten, a sketch, a picture, a
song, a walt:, some note of music, and her ideas were fixed. 4bout ,ngland and about ,urope. I could not
change them and probably nothing would. 3eality might disconcert her, bewilder her, hurt her, but it
would not be reality. It would be only a mistake, a misfortune, a wrong path taken, her fixed ideas would
ne!er change. =othing that I told her influenced her at all.
ie then. Sleep. ,t is all that , can give you:. , wonder if she ever guessed how near she came to dying. ,n her
way- not in mine. ,t was not a safe game to play K in that place. esire- Hatred- Life- eath came very close in
the dar.ness. &etter not .now how close. &etter not thin.- never for a moment. >ot close. The same : D5ou are
safe-C ,Cd say to her and to myself. DShut your eyes. !est.C 9:;
Ddid you hear what that girl was singing3C Antoinette said.
D, donCt always understand what they say or sing.C #r anything else.
D,t was a song a*out a white cockroach. ThatCs me. hat&s what whey call all of us who were here before
their own people in 4frica sold them to the sla!e traders. 4nd I&!e heard ,nglish women call us white
niggers. )o between you I often wonder who I am and where is my country and where do I belong and
why was I e!er born at all. Will you go now please. , must dress li.e $hristophine said.C 9:;
D7hristophine, he does not lo!e me, I think he hates me. He always sleeps in his dressing-room now and the
servants .now. If I get angry he is scornful and silent, sometimes he does not speak to me for hours and I
cannot endure it any more, I cannot. *hat shall I do+ (e was not like that at first-C , said.
?in. and red hi*iscus grew in front of her door- she lit her pipe and did not answer.
DAnswer me-C , said. She puffed out a cloud of smo.e.
D5ou as. me a hard thing- , tell you a hard thing- pac. up and go.C
D6o- go where3 To some strange place where , shall never see him3 >o- , will not- then everyone- not only the
servants- will laugh at me.C
D,tCs not you they laugh at if you go- they laugh at him.C
D, will not do that.C
DWhy you as. me- if when , answer you say no3 Why you come up here if when , tell you the truth- you say no3C
D&ut there must *e something else , can do.C
She loo.ed gloomy. DWhen man donCt love you- more you try- more he hate you- man li.e that. ,f you love them
they treat you *ad- if you donCt love them they after you night and day *othering your soul case out. , hear a*out
you and your hus*and.C she said.
D&ut I cannot go. (e is my husband after all.C
She spat over her shoulder. DAll women- all colours- nothing *ut fools. Three children , have. #ne living in this
world- each one a different father- *ut no hus*and- , than. my 6od. , .eep my money. , donCt give it to no
worthless man.C
DWhen must , go- where must , go3C
D&ut loo. me trou*le- a rich white girl li.e you and more foolish than the rest. A man donCt treat you good- pic.
up your s.irt and wal. out. o it and he come after you.C
DHe will not come after me. And you must understand I am not rich now, I ha!e no money of my own at all,
e!erything I had belongs to him.C
DWhat you tell me there3C she said sharply.
Dhat is ,nglish law.C 9:;
I ha!e been too unhappy, I thought, it cannot last, being so unhappy, it would kill you. I will be a different
person when I li!e in ,ngland and different things will happen to me C %ngland- rosy pin. in the
geography *oo. map- *ut on the page opposite the words are closely crowded- heavy loo.ing. %)ports- coal-
iron- wool. Then ,mports and $haracter of ,nha*itants. >ames- %sse)- $helmsford on the $helmer. The
5or.shire and Lincolnshire wolds. Wolds3 oes that mean hills3 How high3 Half the height of ours- or not even
that3 $ool green leaves in the short cool summer. Summer. There are fields of corn li.e sugar-cane fields- *ut
gold colour and not so tall. After summer the trees are *are- then winter and snow. White feathers falling3 Torn
pieces of paper falling3 They say frost ma.es flower patterns on the window panes. , must .now more than ,
.now already. (or I know that house where I will be cold and not belonging, the bed I shall lie in has red
curtains and I ha!e slept there many times before, long ago. (ow long ago+ In that bed I will dream the
end of my dream. &ut my dream had nothing to do with %ngland and , must not thin. li.e this- , must
remem*er a*out chandeliers and dancing- a*out swans and roses and snow. And snow.
D%ngland-C said $hristophine- who was watching me. D5ou thin. there is such a place3C
DHow can you as. that3 5ou .now there is.C
D, never see the damn place- how , .now3C
D5ou do not *elieve that there is a country called %ngland3 9:;
She *lin.ed and answered 4uic.ly- D, donCt say , donCt *elieve- , say , donCt .now- , .now what , see with my
eyes and , never see it. &esides , as. myself is this place li.e they tell us3 Some say one thing- some different- I
hear it cold to free:e your bones and they thief your money- clever li.e the devil. 5ou have money in your
poc.et- you loo. again and *am1 >o money. *hy you want to go to this cold thief place+ ,f there is this place
at all- , never see it- that is one thing sure.C 9:;
D$hristophine-C , said- D, may do as you advise. &ut not yet.C <>ow- , thought- , must say what , came to say.=
D5ou .new what , wanted as soon as you saw me- and you certainly .now now. Well- donCt you3C , heard my
voice getting high and thin.
DHush up-C she said. DIf the man don&t lo!e you, I can&t make him lo!e you.C
D8es you can, I know you can. hat is what I wish and that is why I came here. 8ou can make people lo!e or
hate. #r : or die-C , said. 9:;
(e hates me now. I hear him e!ery night walking up and down the !eranda. Ep and down. *hen he
passes my door he says, -Goodnight, Bertha.. (e ne!er calls me 4ntoinette now. (e has found out it was
my mother&s name. 0, hope you will sleep well- &ertha2 K it cannot *e worse-C , said. DThat one night he came ,
might sleep afterwards. , sleep so *adly now. And , dream.C 9:;
DListen doudou chL. Plenty people fasten bad words on you and on your mother. I know it. I know who is
talking and what they say. he man not a bad man, e!en if he lo!e money, but he hear so many stories he
don&t know what to belie!e. hat is why he keep away. , put no trust in none of those people round you. >ot
here- not in Jamaica.C 9:;
When , passed her room- , heard her 4uarrelling with !ichard and , .new it was a*out my marriage. D,tCs
disgraceful-C she said. DIt&s shameful. 8ou are handing o!er e!erything the child owns to a perfect stranger.
8our father would ne!er ha!e allowed it. )he should be protected, legally. 4 settlement can be arranged
and it should be arranged. hat was his intention.C
>8ou are talking about an honourable gentleman, not a rascal,& 3ichard said. >I am not in a position to
make conditions, as you know !ery well. )he is damn lucky to get him, all things considered. *hy should I
insist on a lawyer&s settlement when I trust him+ I would trust him with my life,& he went on in an affected
voice.
D5ou are trusting him with her life- not yours-C she said.
He told her for 6odCs sa.e shut up you old fool and *anged the door when he left. So angry that he did not
notice me standing in the passage. She was sitting up in *ed when , went into her room. DHalf wit that the *oy is-
or pretends to *e. I do not like what I ha!e seen of this honourable gentleman. )tiff. (ard as a board and
stupid as a foot, in my opinion, except where his own interests are concerned.& BCD
D>o- , said , was always happy in the morning- not always in the afternoon and never after sunset- for after
sunset the house was haunted- some places are. Then there was that day when she saw I was growing up like a
white nigger and she was ashamed of me- it was after that day that everything changed. 5es- it was my fault- it
was my fault that she started to plan and wor. in a fren@y- in a fever to changes our lives. hen people came to
see us again and though I still hated them and was afraid of their cool, teasing eyes, I learned to hide it.C
9:;
DonCt laugh li.e that- &ertha.C
>5y name is not Bertha; why do you call me Bertha+&
D&ecause it is a name ,Cm particularly fond of. , thin. of you as &ertha.C 9:;
She was wearing the white dress , had admired- *ut it had slipped untidily over one shoulder and seemed too
large for her. , watched her holding her left wrist with her right hand- an annoying habit.
DThen why do you ne!er come near me+& she said. >1r kiss me, or talk to me. *hy do you think I can bear
it, what reason have you for treating me li.e that3 Have you any reason3C
D5es-C , said- D, have a reason-C and added very softly- D"y 6od.C
D5ou are always calling on 6od-C she said. Do you *elieve in 6od3C
D#f course of course , *elieve in the power and wisdom of my creator.C
She raised her eye*rows and the corners of her mouth turned down in a 4uestioning moc.ing way. (or a moment
she loo.ed very much li.e AmLlie. ?erhaps they are related- , thought. ,tCs possi*le- itCs even pro*a*le in this
damned place. 9:;
The cold light was on her and , loo.ed at the sad droop of her lips, the frown between her thick eyebrows,
deep as if it had been cut with a knife. As , loo. she moved and flung her arm out. , thought coldly- yes, !ery
beautiful- the thin wrist- the sweet swell of the forearm- the rounded el*ow- the curve of her shoulder into her
upper arm. All present- all correct. As I watched, hating- her face grew smooth and very young again- she even
seemed to smile. A tric. of the light perhaps. What else3 9:;
D$hristophine is an evil old woman and you .now it as well as , do-C , said. DShe wonCt stay here very much
longer.C
DShe wonCt stay here very much longer-C she mimic.ed me- Dand nor will you- nor will you. , thought you li.ed
the *lac. people so much-C she said- still in that mincing voice- D*ut thatCs 8ust a lie li.e everything else. 8ou like
the light brown girls better, don&t you+ 8ou abused the planters and made up stories about them, but you
do the same thing. 5ou send the girl away 4uic.er- and with no money or less money- and thatCs all the
difference.C
DSlavery was not a matter of li.ing or disli.ing-C , said- trying to spea. calmly. D,t was a 4uestion of 8ustice.C
DJustice-C she said. D,Cve heard that word. ,tCs a cold word. , tried it out-C se said- still spea.ing in a low voice. D,
wrote it down. , wrote it down several times and always it loo.ed li.e a damn cold lie to me. There is no 8ustice.C
)he drank some more rum and went on, >5y mother whom you all talk about, what 9ustice did she ha!e+
"y mother sitting in the roc.ing-chair spea.ing a*out dead horses and dead grooms and a *lac. devil .issing
her sad mouth. Li.e you .issed mine-C she said.
The room was now un*eara*le hot. D,Cll open the window and let a little air in-C , said.
D,t will let the night in too-C she said- Dand the moon and the scent of those flowers you dislike so much.C
*hen I turned from the window she was drinking again.
D&ertha-C , said.
>Bertha is not my name. 8ou are trying to make me into someone else, calling me by another name. ,
.now- thatCs o*eah too.C
Tears streamed from her eyes.
D,f my father- my real father- was alive you wouldnCt come *ac. here in a hurry after heCd finished with you. ,f
he was alive. @o you know what you&!e done to me+ It&s not the girl, not the girl. But I lo!e this place and
you ha!e made into a place I hate. I used to think that if e!erything else went out of my life I would still
ha!e this, and now you ha!e spoilt it. It&s 9ust somewhere else where I ha!e been unhappy, and all the
other things are nothing to what has happened here. I hate it now like I hate you and before I died I will
show you how much I hate you.C
Then to my astonishment she stopped crying and said- D,s she so much prettier than , am3 @on&t you lo!e me at
all+&
D>o- , do not-C , said <at the same time remem*ering AmLlie saying- Do you li.e my hair3 ,snCt it prettier than
hers3C=. D>ot at this moment-C , said.
)he laughed at that. 4 cra:y laugh.
D5ou see. hat&s how you are. 4 stone. &ut it serves me right *ecause didnCt Aunt $ora say to me donCt marry
him. >ot if he were stuffed with diamonds. 9:;
DShe tell me in the middle of all this you start calling her names. 5arionette. Some word so.C
D5es. , remem*er- , did.C
<"arionette- Antoinette- "arionetta- Antoinetta=
Dhat word mean doll, eh+ Because she don&t speak. 8ou want to force her to cry and speak.C 9:; D&ut
she wonCt. So you thin. up something else. 5ou *ring out that worthless girl to play with ne)t door and you tal.
and laugh and love so that she hear everything. 5ou meant her to hear.C
5es- that didnCt 8ust happen. , meant it. 9:;
>I know that girl. )he will ne!er ask you for lo!e again, she will die first. But I 7hristophine I beg you. )he
lo!e you so much. )he thirsty for you. *ait, and perhaps you can lo!e her again. 4 little, like she say. 4
little. ;ike you can lo!e.& 9:;
D,n your &i*le it say 6od is a spirit K it donCt say no others. >ot at all. ,t give me what happen to her mother- and
, canCt see it happen again. 8ou call her a doll+ )he don&t satisfy you+ Try her once more- , thin. she satisfy
you now. If you forsake her they will tear her in pieces F like they did her mother.C
D, will not forsa.e her-C , said wearily. D, will do all , can for her.C
D5ou will love her li.e you did *efore3C
<6ive my sister your wife a .iss from me. Love her as , did K oh yes , did. How can , promise that3= , said
nothing.
D,tCs she wonCt *e satisfy. )he is 7reole girl, and she ha!e the sun in her. ell the truth now. )he don&t come
to your house in this place ,ngland they tell me about, she don&t come to your beautiful house to beg you
to marry with her. =o, it&s you come all the long way to her house F it&s you beg her to marry. 4nd she
lo!e you and she gi!e you all she ha!e. =ow you say you don&t lo!e her and you break her up. *hat you
do with her money, eh3C Her voice was still 4uiet *ut with a hiss in it when she said DmoneyC. , thought- of
course- that is what all the rigmarole is a*out. , no longer felt da@ed- tired- half hypnoti@ed- *ut alert and wary-
ready to defend myself.
Why- she wanted to .now- could , not return half of 4ntoinette&s dowry and lea!e the island K Dleave the
West ,ndies if you donCt want her no more.C
, as.ed the e)act sum she had in mind- *ut she was vague a*out that.
D5ou fi) it up with lawyers and all those things.C
DAnd what will happen to her then3C
She- $hristophine- would ta.e good care of Antoinette <and the money of course=.
D5ou will *oth stay here3C , hoped that my voice was as smooth as hers.
>o- they would go to "artini4ue. Then to other places.
D, li.e to see the world *efore , die.C
?erhaps *ecause , was so 4uiet and composed she added maliciously- D)he marry with someone else. )he
forget about you and li!e happy.&
4 pang of rage and 9ealously shot through me then. 1n no, she won&t forget. I laughed.
D5ou laugh at me3 Why you laugh at me3C
D#f course , laugh at you K you ridiculous old woman. I don&t mean to discuss my affairs with you any
longer. 1r your mistress. I&!e listened to all you had to say and I don&t belie!e you. >ow- say good-*ye to
Antoinette- then go. 5ou are to *lame for all that happened here- so donCt come *ac..C 9:;
D, tell her so-C she said. DAlways it donCt wor. for*L.L. Always it *ring trou*le : )o you send me away and
you keep all her money. 4nd what you do with her+C
D, donCt see why , should tell you my plans. I mean to go back to 6amaica to consult the )panish own
doctors and her brother. I&ll follow their ad!ice. hat is all I mean to do. )he is not well.C
DHer *rother1C She spat on the floor. D!ichard "ason is no *rother to her. 5ou thin. you fool me3 8ou want her
money but you don&t want her. It is in your mind to pretend she is mad. I know it. he doctors say what
you tell them to say. hat man 3ichard he say what you want him to say F glad and willing too, I know.
)he will be like her mother. 8ou do that for money+ But you wicked like )atan self1C
, said loudly and wildly- D4nd you think that I wanted all this+ I would gi!e my life to undo it. I would gi!e
my eyes ne!er to ha!e seen this abominable place.C
She laughed. DAnd thatCs the first damn word of truth you spea.. 5ou choose what you give- eh3 Then you
choose. 5ou meddle in something and perhaps you donCt .now what it is.C She *egan to mutter to herself. >ot in
patois. , .new the sound of patois now. )he&s as mad as the other- , thought- and turned to the window. 9:;
, dran. some more rum and- drin.ing- , drew a house surrounded *y trees. A large house. I di!ided the third
floor into rooms and in one room I drew a standing woman K a childCs scri**le- a dot for a head- a larger one
for the *ody- a triangle for a s.irt- slanting lines for arms and feet. &ut it was an %nglish house.
%nglish trees. , wondered if , ever should see %ngland again. 9:;
?ity li.e a na.ed new-*orn *a*e striding the *last.
, read that long ago when , was young K I hate poets now and poetry. 4s I hate music which I lo!ed once.
Sing your songs- !upert the !ine- *ut ,Cll not listen- though they tell me youCve a sweet voice:
Pity. Is there none for me+ ied to a lunatic for life F a drunken lying lunatic F gone her mother&s way.
DShe love you so much- so much. She thirsty for you. Love her a little li.e she say. ,tCs all that you can love K a
little.C
Sneer to the last- evil. o you thin. that , donCt .now3 )he thirsts for anyone F not for me C
)he&ll loosen her black hair, and laugh and coax and flatter /a mad girl. )he&ll not care who she&s lo!ing0.
)he&ll moan and cry and gi!e herself as no sane woman would F or could. 1r could. Then lie so still- still as
this cloudy day. A lunatic who always .nows the time. &ut never does.
Till sheCs drun. so deep- played her games so often that the lowest shrug and 8eer at her. And ,Cm to .now it K ,3
>o- ,Cve a tric. worth two of that.
DShe love you so much- so much. Try her once more.C
I tell you she lo!es no one, anymore. I could not touch her. %)cepting as the hurricane will touch that tree K
and *rea. it. 5ou say , did3 >o. That was loveCs fierce play. >ow ,Cll do it.
)he&ll not laugh in the sun again. )he&ll not dress up and smile at herself in that damnable looking$glass.
)o pleased, so satisfied.
Gain, silly creature. 5ade for lo!ing+ 8es, but she&ll ha!e no lo!er, for I don&t want her and she&ll see no
other.
The tree shivers. Shivers and gathers all its strength. And waits. <There is a cool wind *lowing now K a cold
wind. oes it carry the *a*e *orn to stride the *last of hurricanes3=
)he said she lo!ed this place. his is the last she&ll see of it. I&ll watch for one tear, one human tear. =ot
that lank hating moonstruck face. ,Cll listen:. ,f she says good-*ye perhaps adieu. Adieu K li.e those old-time
songs she sang. Always adieu <and all songs say it=. ,f she too says it- or weeps- I&ll take her in my arms, my
lunatic. )he&s made but mine, mine. *hat will I care for gods or de!ils or for 2ate itself. If she smiles or
weeps or both. 2or me.
Antoinetta K , can *e gentle too. Hide your face. Hide yourself *ut in my arms. 5ouCll soon see how gentle. 5y
lunatic. 5y mad girl. 9:;
She was there in thea8oupa+ carefully dressed for the 8ourney- , noticed- *ut her face *lan.- no e)pression at all.
Tears3 ThereCs not a tear in her. Well- we will see. id she remem*er anything- , wondered- feel anything3
9:;After all , was prepared for her *lan. indifference. , .new that my dreams were dreams. &ut the sadness ,
felt loo.ing at the sha**y white house K , wasnCt prepared for that. 9:;
>o- , would say K , .new what , would say. D, have made a terri*le mista.e. (orgive me.C
, said it- loo.ing at her- seeing the hatred in her eyes K and feeling my own hate spring up to meet it. Again the
giddy change- the remem*ering- the sic.ening swing *ac. to hate. They *ought me- me with your paltry money.
5ou helped them to do it. 5ou deceived me- *etrayed me- and youCll do worse if you get the chance : <That girl
she loo. you straight in the eye and tal. sweet tal.K and itCs lies she tell you. Lies. Her mother was so. They say
she worse than her mother.=
: ,f , was *ound for hell let it *e hell. >o more false heavens. >o more damned magic. 5ou hate me and , hate
you. WeCll see who hates *est. &ut first- first , will destroy your hatred. >ow. "y hate is colder- stronger- and
youCll have no hat to warm yourself. 5ou will have nothing.
, did it too. , saw the hate go out of her eyes. , forced it out. And with the hate her *eauty. She was only a ghost.
A ghost in the grey daylight. >othing left *ut hopelessness. Say die and , will die. Say die and watch me die.
She lifted her eyes. &lan. lovely eyes. "ad eyes. A mad girl. , donCt .now what , would have said or done. ,n
the *alance K everything. 9:;
, thought she would cry then. >o- the dollCs smile came *ac. K nailed to her face. ,!en if she had wept like
5agdalene it would ha!e made no difference. I was exhausted. 4ll the mad conflicting emotions had gone
and left me wearied and empty. )ane.
, was tired of these people. , disli.ed their laughter and their tears- their flattery and envy- conceit and deceit.
And , hate the place.
I hated the mountains and the hills, the ri!ers and the rain. I hated the sunsets of whate!er colour, I hated
its beauty and its magic and the secret I would ne!er know. I hated its indifference and the cruelty which
was part of its lo!eliness. 4bo!e all I hated her. 2or she belonged to the magic and the lo!eliness. )he had
left me thirsty and all my life would be thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it.
So we rode away and left it K the hidden place. >ot for me and not for her. ,Cd loo. after that. SheCs far along the
road now.
Gery soon she&ll 9oin all the others who know the secret and will not tell it. 1r cannot. 1r try and fail
because they do not know enough. hey can be recogni:ed. *hite faces, da:ed eyes, aimless gestures,
high$pitched laughter. he way they walk and talk and scream or try to kill /themsel!es or you0 if you
laugh back at them. 8es, they&!e got to be watched. 2or the time comes when they try to kill, then
disappear. But others are waiting to take their places, it&s a long, long line. )he&s one of them. I too can
wait F for the day when she is only memory to be a!oided, locked away, and like all memories a legend. 1r
a lieC
Part three
,They kne* that he *as in Ja)aica *hen his father and his "rother died& race -oole said. ,He inherited e+erything&
"ut he *as a *ealthy )an "efore that. So)e (eo(le are fortunate& they said& and there were hints about the woman
he brought back to England with him. /e't day #rs %ff *anted to see )e and she co)(lained a"out gossi(. 0 dont
allo* gossi(. 0 told you that *hen you ca)e. Ser+ants *ill talk and you cant sto( the)& 0 said. 0 a) not certain that
the situation *ill suit )e& )ada). $irst *hen 0 ans*ered your ad+ertise)ent you said that the person I had to look
after was not a young girl. I asked if she was an old woman and you said no. 123
The thick *alls& she thought. -ast the lodge gate a long a+enue of trees and inside the house the "lazing fires
and the cri)son and *hite roo)s. But a"o+e all the thick *alls& kee(ing a*ay all the things that you ha+e fought
till you can fight no )ore. 4es& )ay"e thats *hy *e all stay 5 #rs %ff and 6eah and )e. 7ll of us e'ce(t that
girl who lives in her own darkness. Ill say one thing for her, she hasnt lost her spirit. Shes still fierce. I
dont turn my back on her when her eyes have that look. I know it.
In this room I wake early and lie shi!ering for it is !ery cold. At last 6race ?oole- the woman who loo.s after
me- lights a fire with paper and stic.s and lumps of coal. She .neels to *low it with *ellows. The paper shrivels-
the stic.s crac.le and spit- the coal smoulders and glowers. ,n the end flames shoot up and they are *eautiful. ,
get out of *ed and go close to watch them and to wonder why I ha!e been brought here. 2or what reason+
There must *e a reason. *hat is it that I must do+ *hen I first came I thought it would be for a day, two
days, a week perhaps. , thought that when , saw him and spo.e to him , would *e wise as serpents- harmless as
doves. D, give you all , have freely-C , would say- Dand , will not trou*le you again if you will let me go.C But he
ne!er came. 9:;
Her name oughtnCt to *e 6race. =ames matter, like when he wouldn&t call me 4ntoinette, and I saw
4ntoinette drifting out of the window with her scents, her pretty clothes and her looking$glass.
here is no looking$glass here and I don&t know what I am like now. I remember watching myself brush
my hair and how my eyes looked back at me. he girl I saw was myself yet not #uite myself. Long ago
when , was a child and very lonely , tried to .iss her. &ut the glass was *etween us K hard- cold and misted over
with my *reath. =ow they ha!e taken e!erything away. *hat am I doing in this place and who am I+ 9:;
, remem*er now that he did not recogni@e me. , saw him loo. at me and his eyes went first to one corner and
then to another- not finding what they e)pected. He loo.ed at me and spo.e to me as though , were a stranger.
What do you do when something happens to you li.e that3 Why are you laughing at me3 DHave you hidden my
red dress too3 ,f ,Cd *een wearing that heCd have .nown me.C
D>o*odyCs hidden your dress-C she said. D,tCs hanging in the press.C
She loo.ed at me and said- DI don&t belie!e you know how long you&!e been here, you poor creature.C
D#n the contrary-C , said- Donly I know how long I ha!e been here. =ight and days and days and nights,
hundreds of them slipping through my fingers. But that does not matter. ime has no meaning. But
something you can touch and hold like my red dress, that has a meaning. Where is it3C
She 8er.ed her head towards the press and the corners of her mouth turned down. As soon as , turned the .ey ,
saw it hanging- the colour of fire and sunset. The colour of flam*oyant flowers. D,f you are *uried under a
flam*oyant tree-C , said- Dyour soul is lifted up when it flowers. %veryone wants that.C
She shoo. her head *ut she did not move or touch me.
The scent that came from the dress was very faint at first- then it grew stronger. The smell of vetivert and
frangipanni- of cinnamon and dust and lime trees when they are flowering. he smell of the sun and the smell
of the rain. 9:;
Suddenly , felt very misera*le in that room- thought he couch , was sitting on was so soft that , san. into it. ,t
seemed to me that , was going to sleep. Then , imagined that , heard a footstep and , thought what will they say-
what will they do if they find me here3 , held my right wrist with my left hand and waited. &ut it was nothing. ,
was very tired after this. Very tired. , wanted to get out of the room *ut my own candle had *urned down and ,
too. one of the others. Suddenly , was in Aunt $oraCs room. , saw the sunlight coming through the window- the
tree outside and the shadows of the leaves on the floor- *ut I saw the wax candles too and I hated them. )o I
knocked them all down. 5ost of them went out but one caught the thin curtains that were behind the red
ones. I laughed when I saw the lo!ely colour spreading so fast- *ut , did not stay to watch it. , went into the
hall again with the tall candle in my hand. It was then that I saw her F the ghost. he woman with streaming
hair. )he was surrounded by a gilt frame but I knew her. , dropped the candle , was carrying and it caught
the end of a ta*lecloth and , saw flames shoot up. As , ran or perhaps floated or flew , called help me
$hristophine help me and loo.ing *ehind me , saw that , had *een helped. There was a wall of fire protecting
me *ut it was too hot- it scorched me and , went away from it. 9:;
6race ?oole was sitting at the ta*le *ut she had heard the scream too- for she said- DWhat was that3C She got up-
came over and loo.ed at me. , lay still- *reathing evenly with my eyes shut. D, must have *een dreaming-C she
said. Then she went *ac.- not to the ta*le *ut to her *ed. , waited a long time after , heard her snore- then , got
up- too. the .eys and unloc.ed the door. , was outside holding my candle. >ow at last , .now why , was
*rought here and what , have to do. There must have *een a draught for the flame flic.ered and , thought it was
out. &ut , shielded it with my hand and it *urned up again to light me along the dar. passage.