博炮作文网

第25部分（第3页）

I　assented。

“Arithmetic；　you　see；　is　useful；　without　its　aid；　I　should　hardly　have　been　able　to　guess　your　age。　It　is　a　point　difficult　to　fix　where　the　features　and　countenance　are　so　much　at　variance　as　in　your　case。　And　now　what　did　you　learn　at　Lowood？　Can　you　play？”

“A　little。”

“Of　course：　that　is　the　established　answer。　Go　into　the　library—I　mean；　if　you　please。—（Excuse　my　tone　of　mand；　I　am　used　to　say；　‘Do　this；’　and　it　is　done：　I　cannot　alter　my　customary　habits　for　one　new　inmate。）—Go；　then；　into　the　library；　take　a　candle　with　you；　leave　the　door　open；　sit　down　to　the　piano；　and　play　a　tune。”

I　departed；　obeying　his　directions。

“Enough！”　he　called　out　in　a　few　minutes。　“You　play　A　little；　I　see；　like　any　other　English　school…girl；　perhaps　rather　better　than　some；　but　not　well。”

I　closed　the　piano　and　returned。　Mr。　Rochester　continued—“Adèle　showed　me　some　sketches　this　morning；　which　she　said　were　yours。　I　don’t　know　whether　they　were　entirely　of　your　doing；　probably　a　master　aided　you？”

“No；　indeed！”　I　interjected。

“Ah！　that　pricks　pride。　Well；　fetch　me　your　portfolio；　if　you　can　vouch　for　its　contents　being　original；　but　don’t　pass　your　word　unless　you　are　certain：　I　can　recognise　patchwork。”

“Then　I　will　say　nothing；　and　you　shall　judge　for　yourself；　sir。”

I　brought　the　portfolio　from　the　library。

“Approach　the　table；”　said　he；　and　I　wheeled　it　to　his　couch。　Adèle　and　Mrs。　Fairfax　drew　near　to　see　the　pictures。

“No　crowding；”　said　Mr。　Rochester：　“take　the　drawings　from　my　hand　as　I　finish　with　them；　but　don’t　push　your　faces　up　to　mine。”

He　deliberately　scrutinised　each　sketch　and　painting。　Three　he　laid　aside；　the　others；　when　he　had　examined　them；　he　swept　from　him。

“Take　them　off　to　the　other　table；　Mrs。　Fairfax；”　said　he；　and　look　at　them　with　Adèle；—you”　（glancing　at　me）　“resume　your　seat；　and　answer　my　questions。　I　perceive　those　pictures　were　done　by　one　hand：　was　that　hand　yours？”

“Yes。”

“And　when　did　you　find　time　to　do　them？　They　have　taken　much　time；　and　some　thought。”

“I　did　them　in　the　last　two　vacations　I　spent　at　Lowood；　when　I　had　no　other　occupation。”

“Where　did　you　get　your　copies？”

“Out　of　my　head。”

“That　head　I　see　now　on　your　shoulders？”

“Yes；　sir。”

“Has　it　other　furniture　of　the　same　kind　within？”

“I　should　think　it　may　have：　I　should　hope—better。”

He　spread　the　pictures　before　him；　and　again　surveyed　them　alternately。

While　he　is　so　occupied；　I　will　tell　you；　reader；　what　they　are：　and　first；　I　must　premise　that　they　are　nothing　wonderful。　The　subjects　had；　indeed；　risen　vividly　on　my　mind。　As　I　saw　them　with　the　spiritual　eye；　before　I　attempted　to　embody　them；　they　were　striking；　but　my　hand　would　not　second　my　fancy；　and　in　each　case　it　had　wrought　out　but　a　pale　portrait　of　the　thing　I　had　conceived。

These　pictures　were　in　water…colours。　The　first　represented　clouds　low　and　livid；　rolling　over　a　swollen　sea：　all　the　distance　was　in　eclipse；　so；　too；　was　the　foreground；　or　rather；　the　nearest　billows；　for　there　was　no　land。　One　gleam　of　light　lifted　into　relief　a　half…submerged　mast；　on　which　sat　a　cormorant；　dark　and　large；　with　wings　flecked　with　foam；　its　beak　held　a　gold　bracelet　set　with　gems；　that　I　had　touched　with　as　brilliant　tints　as　my　palette　could　yield；　and　as　glittering　distinctness　as　my　pencil　could　impart。　Sinking　below　the　bird　and　mast；　a　drowned　corpse　glanced　through　the　green　water；　a　fair　arm　was　the　only　limb　clearly　visible；　whence　the　bracelet　had　been　washed　or　torn。

The　second　picture　contained　for　foreground　only　the　dim　peak　of　a　hill；　with　grass　and　some　leaves　slanting　as　if　by　a　breeze。　Beyond　and　above　spread　an　expanse　of　sky；　dark　blue　as　at　twilight：　rising　into　the　sky　was　a　woman’s　shape　to　the　bust；　portrayed　in　tints　as　dusk　and　soft　as　I　could　bine。　The　dim　forehead　was　crowned　with　a　star；　the　lineaments　below　were　seen　as　through　the　suffusion　of　vapour；　the　eyes　shone　dark　and　wild；　the　hair　streamed　shadowy；　like　a　beamless　cloud　torn　by　storm　or　by　electric　travail。　On　the　neck　lay　a　pale　reflection　like　moonlight；　the　same　faint　lustre　touched　the　train　of　thin　clouds　from　which　rose　and　bowed　this　vision　of　the　Evening　Star。

The　third　showed　the　pinnacle　of　an　iceberg　piercing　a　polar　winter　sky：　a　muster　of　northern　lights　reared　their　dim　lances；　close　serried；　along　the　horizon。　Throwing　these　into　distance；　ros