第104页
gathers on the moor.'
'It will sting- it will taste bitter, sir.'
'How do you know?- you never tried it. How very serious- how very
solemn you look: and you are as ignorant of the matter as this cameo
head' (taking one from the mantelpiece). 'You have no right to
preach to me, you neophyte, that have not passed the porch of life,
and are absolutely unacquainted with its mysteries.'
'I only remind you of your own words, sir: you said error brought
remorse, and you pronounced remorse the poison of existence.'
'And who talks of error now? I scarcely think the notion that
flittered across my brain was an error. I believe it was an
inspiration rather than a temptation: it was very genial, very
soothing- I know that. Here it comes again! It is no devil, I assure
you; or if it be, it has put on the robes of an angel of light. I
think I must admit so fair a guest when it asks entrance to my heart.'
'Distrust it, sir; it is not a true angel.'
'Once more, how do you know? By what instinct do you pretend to
distinguish between a fallen seraph of the abyss and a messenger
from the eternal throne- between a guide and a seducer?'
'I judged by your countenance, sir, which was troubled when you
said the suggestion had returned upon you. I feel sure it will work
you more misery if you listen to it.'
'Not at all- it bears the most gracious message in the world: for
the rest, you are not my conscience-keeper, so don't make yourself
uneasy. Here, come in, bonny wanderer!'
He said this as if he spoke to a vision, viewless to any eye but
his own; then, folding his arms, which he had half extended, on his
chest, he seemed to enclose in their embrace the invisible being.
'Now,' he continued, again addressing me, 'I have received the
pilgrim- a disguised deity, as I verily believe. Already it has done
me good: my heart was a sort of charnel; it will now be a shrine.'
'To speak truth, sir, I don't understand you at all: I cannot
keep up the conversation, because it has got out of my depth. Only one
thing, I know: you said you were not as good as you should like to be,
and that you regretted your own imperfection;- one thing I can
comprehend: you intimated that to have a sullied memory was a
perpetual bane. It seems to me, that if you tried hard, you would in
time find it possible to become what you yourself would approve; and
that if from this day you began with resolution to correct your
thoughts and actions, you would in a few years have laid up a new
and stainless store of recollections, to which you might revert with
pleasure.'
'Justly thought; rightly said, Miss Eyre; and, at this moment, I am
paving hell with energy.'
'Sir?'
'I am laying down good intentions, which I believe durable as
flint. Certainly, my associates and pursuits shall be other than
they have been.'
'And better?'
'And better- so much better as pure ore is than foul dross. You