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Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, CHAPTER XXXIII

CHAPTER XXXIII

When Mr. St.

John went, it was beginning to snow; the whirling storm continued all night. The next day a keen wind brought fresh and blinding falls; by twilight the valley was drifted up and almost impassable. I had closed my shutter, laid a mat to the door to prevent the snow from blowing in under it, trimmed my fire, and after sitting nearly an hour on the hearth listening to the muffled fury of the tempest, I lit a candle, took down “Marmion,” and beginning—

“Day set on Norham's castled steep, And Tweed's fair river broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone; The massive towers, the donjon keep, The flanking walls that round them sweep, In yellow lustre shone”— I soon forgot storm in music.

I heard a noise: the wind, I thought, shook the door.

No; it was St. John Rivers, who, lifting the latch, came in out of the frozen hurricane—the howling darkness—and stood before me: the cloak that covered his tall figure all white as a glacier. I was almost in consternation, so little had I expected any guest from the blocked-up vale that night.

“Any ill news?” I demanded.

“Has anything happened?”

“No.

How very easily alarmed you are!” he answered, removing his cloak and hanging it up against the door, towards which he again coolly pushed the mat which his entrance had deranged. He stamped the snow from his boots.

“I shall sully the purity of your floor,” said he, “but you must excuse me for once.” Then he approached the fire.

“I have had hard work to get here, I assure you,” he observed, as he warmed his hands over the flame. “One drift took me up to the waist; happily the snow is quite soft yet.”

“But why are you come?” I could not forbear saying.

“Rather an inhospitable question to put to a visitor; but since you ask it, I answer simply to have a little talk with you; I got tired of my mute books and empty rooms.

Besides, since yesterday I have experienced the excitement of a person to whom a tale has been half-told, and who is impatient to hear the sequel.”

He sat down.

I recalled his singular conduct of yesterday, and really I began to fear his wits were touched. If he were insane, however, his was a very cool and collected insanity: I had never seen that handsome-featured face of his look more like chiselled marble than it did just now, as he put aside his snow-wet hair from his forehead and let the firelight shine free on his pale brow and cheek as pale, where it grieved me to discover the hollow trace of care or sorrow now so plainly graved. I waited, expecting he would say something I could at least comprehend; but his hand was now at his chin, his finger on his lip: he was thinking. It struck me that his hand looked wasted like his face. A perhaps uncalled-for gush of pity came over my heart: I was moved to say—

“I wish Diana or Mary would come and live with you: it is too bad that you should be quite alone; and you are recklessly rash about your own health.”

“Not at all,” said he: “I care for myself when necessary.

I am well now. What do you see amiss in me?”

This was said with a careless, abstracted indifference, which showed that my solicitude was, at least in his opinion, wholly superfluous.

I was silenced.

He still slowly moved his finger over his upper lip, and still his eye dwelt dreamily on the glowing grate; thinking it urgent to say something, I asked him presently if he felt any cold draught from the door, which was behind him.

“No, no!” he responded shortly and somewhat testily.

“Well,” I reflected, “if you won't talk, you may be still; I'll let you alone now, and return to my book.” So I snuffed the candle and resumed the perusal of “Marmion.” He soon stirred; my eye was instantly drawn to his movements; he only took out a morocco pocket-book, thence produced a letter, which he read in silence, folded it, put it back, relapsed into meditation.

It was vain to try to read with such an inscrutable fixture before me; nor could I, in impatience, consent to be dumb; he might rebuff me if he liked, but talk I would.

“Have you heard from Diana and Mary lately?”

“Not since the letter I showed you a week ago.”

“There has not been any change made about your own arrangements?

You will not be summoned to leave England sooner than you expected?”

“I fear not, indeed: such chance is too good to befall me.” Baffled so far, I changed my ground.

I bethought myself to talk about the school and my scholars.

“Mary Garrett's mother is better, and Mary came back to the school this morning, and I shall have four new girls next week from the Foundry Close—they would have come to-day but for the snow.” “Indeed!”

“Mr.

Oliver pays for two.”

“Does he?”

“He means to give the whole school a treat at Christmas.”

“I know.”

“Was it your suggestion?”

“No.”

“Whose, then?”

“His daughter's, I think.” “It is like her: she is so good-natured.”

“Yes.”

Again came the blank of a pause: the clock struck eight strokes.

It aroused him; he uncrossed his legs, sat erect, turned to me.

“Leave your book a moment, and come a little nearer the fire,” he said.

Wondering, and of my wonder finding no end, I complied.

“Half-an-hour ago,” he pursued, “I spoke of my impatience to hear the sequel of a tale: on reflection, I find the matter will be better managed by my assuming the narrator's part, and converting you into a listener. Before commencing, it is but fair to warn you that the story will sound somewhat hackneyed in your ears; but stale details often regain a degree of freshness when they pass through new lips. For the rest, whether trite or novel, it is short.

“Twenty years ago, a poor curate—never mind his name at this moment—fell in love with a rich man's daughter; she fell in love with him, and married him, against the advice of all her friends, who consequently disowned her immediately after the wedding. Before two years passed, the rash pair were both dead, and laid quietly side by side under one slab. (I have seen their grave; it formed part of the pavement of a huge churchyard surrounding the grim, soot-black old cathedral of an overgrown manufacturing town in ---shire. ) They left a daughter, which, at its very birth, Charity received in her lap—cold as that of the snow-drift I almost stuck fast in to-night. Charity carried the friendless thing to the house of its rich maternal relations; it was reared by an aunt-in-law, called (I come to names now) Mrs. Reed of Gateshead. You start—did you hear a noise? I daresay it is only a rat scrambling along the rafters of the adjoining schoolroom: it was a barn before I had it repaired and altered, and barns are generally haunted by rats.—To proceed. Mrs. Reed kept the orphan ten years: whether it was happy or not with her, I cannot say, never having been told; but at the end of that time she transferred it to a place you know—being no other than Lowood School, where you so long resided yourself. It seems her career there was very honourable: from a pupil, she became a teacher, like yourself—really it strikes me there are parallel points in her history and yours—she left it to be a governess: there, again, your fates were analogous; she undertook the education of the ward of a certain Mr. Rochester.”

“Mr.

Rivers!” I interrupted.

“I can guess your feelings,” he said, “but restrain them for a while: I have nearly finished; hear me to the end.

Of Mr. Rochester's character I know nothing, but the one fact that he professed to offer honourable marriage to this young girl, and that at the very altar she discovered he had a wife yet alive, though a lunatic. What his subsequent conduct and proposals were is a matter of pure conjecture; but when an event transpired which rendered inquiry after the governess necessary, it was discovered she was gone—no one could tell when, where, or how. She had left Thornfield Hall in the night; every research after her course had been vain: the country had been scoured far and wide; no vestige of information could be gathered respecting her. Yet that she should be found is become a matter of serious urgency: advertisements have been put in all the papers; I myself have received a letter from one Mr. Briggs, a solicitor, communicating the details I have just imparted. Is it not an odd tale?”

“Just tell me this,” said I, “and since you know so much, you surely can tell it me—what of Mr. Rochester?

How and where is he? What is he doing? Is he well?”

“I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rochester: the letter never mentions him but to narrate the fraudulent and illegal attempt I have adverted to.

You should rather ask the name of the governess—the nature of the event which requires her appearance.”

“Did no one go to Thornfield Hall, then?

Did no one see Mr. Rochester?”

“I suppose not.”

“But they wrote to him?”

“Of course.”

“And what did he say?

Who has his letters?”

“Mr.

Briggs intimates that the answer to his application was not from Mr. Rochester, but from a lady: it is signed ‘Alice Fairfax. '” I felt cold and dismayed: my worst fears then were probably true: he had in all probability left England and rushed in reckless desperation to some former haunt on the Continent.

And what opiate for his severe sufferings—what object for his strong passions—had he sought there? I dared not answer the question. Oh, my poor master—once almost my husband—whom I had often called “my dear Edward!”

“He must have been a bad man,” observed Mr. Rivers.

“You don't know him—don't pronounce an opinion upon him,” I said, with warmth. “Very well,” he answered quietly: “and indeed my head is otherwise occupied than with him: I have my tale to finish.

Since you won't ask the governess's name, I must tell it of my own accord. Stay! I have it here—it is always more satisfactory to see important points written down, fairly committed to black and white.”

And the pocket-book was again deliberately produced, opened, sought through; from one of its compartments was extracted a shabby slip of paper, hastily torn off: I recognised in its texture and its stains of ultra-marine, and lake, and vermillion, the ravished margin of the portrait-cover.

He got up, held it close to my eyes: and I read, traced in Indian ink, in my own handwriting, the words “Jane Eyre”—the work doubtless of some moment of abstraction.

“Briggs wrote to me of a Jane Eyre:” he said, “the advertisements demanded a Jane Eyre: I knew a Jane Elliott.—I confess I had my suspicions, but it was only yesterday afternoon they were at once resolved into certainty.

You own the name and renounce the alias ?”

“Yes—yes; but where is Mr. Briggs?

He perhaps knows more of Mr. Rochester than you do.”

“Briggs is in London.

I should doubt his knowing anything at all about Mr. Rochester; it is not in Mr. Rochester he is interested. Meantime, you forget essential points in pursuing trifles: you do not inquire why Mr. Briggs sought after you—what he wanted with you.”

“Well, what did he want?”

“Merely to tell you that your uncle, Mr. Eyre of Madeira, is dead; that he has left you all his property, and that you are now rich—merely that—nothing more.”

“I!—rich?”

“Yes, you, rich—quite an heiress.”

Silence succeeded.

“You must prove your identity of course,” resumed St.

John presently: “a step which will offer no difficulties; you can then enter on immediate possession. Your fortune is vested in the English funds; Briggs has the will and the necessary documents.”

Here was a new card turned up!

It is a fine thing, reader, to be lifted in a moment from indigence to wealth—a very fine thing; but not a matter one can comprehend, or consequently enjoy, all at once. And then there are other chances in life far more thrilling and rapture-giving: this is solid, an affair of the actual world, nothing ideal about it: all its associations are solid and sober, and its manifestations are the same. One does not jump, and spring, and shout hurrah! at hearing one has got a fortune; one begins to consider responsibilities, and to ponder business; on a base of steady satisfaction rise certain grave cares, and we contain ourselves, and brood over our bliss with a solemn brow.

Besides, the words Legacy, Bequest, go side by side with the words, Death, Funeral.

My uncle I had heard was dead—my only relative; ever since being made aware of his existence, I had cherished the hope of one day seeing him: now, I never should. And then this money came only to me: not to me and a rejoicing family, but to my isolated self. It was a grand boon doubtless; and independence would be glorious—yes, I felt that—that thought swelled my heart.

“You unbend your forehead at last,” said Mr. Rivers.

“I thought Medusa had looked at you, and that you were turning to stone. Perhaps now you will ask how much you are worth?”

“How much am I worth?”

“Oh, a trifle!

Nothing of course to speak of—twenty thousand pounds, I think they say—but what is that?”

“Twenty thousand pounds?”

Here was a new stunner—I had been calculating on four or five thousand.

This news actually took my breath for a moment: Mr. St. John, whom I had never heard laugh before, laughed now.

“Well,” said he, “if you had committed a murder, and I had told you your crime was discovered, you could scarcely look more aghast.”

“It is a large sum—don't you think there is a mistake?” “No mistake at all.”

“Perhaps you have read the figures wrong—it may be two thousand!”

“It is written in letters, not figures,—twenty thousand.”

I again felt rather like an individual of but average gastronomical powers sitting down to feast alone at a table spread with provisions for a hundred.

Mr. Rivers rose now and put his cloak on.

“If it were not such a very wild night,” he said, “I would send Hannah down to keep you company: you look too desperately miserable to be left alone.

But Hannah, poor woman! could not stride the drifts so well as I: her legs are not quite so long: so I must e'en leave you to your sorrows. Good-night.”

He was lifting the latch: a sudden thought occurred to me.

“Stop one minute!” I cried.

“Well?”

“It puzzles me to know why Mr. Briggs wrote to you about me; or how he knew you, or could fancy that you, living in such an out-of-the-way place, had the power to aid in my discovery.”

“Oh!

I am a clergyman,” he said; “and the clergy are often appealed to about odd matters.” Again the latch rattled.

“No; that does not satisfy me!” I exclaimed: and indeed there was something in the hasty and unexplanatory reply which, instead of allaying, piqued my curiosity more than ever.

“It is a very strange piece of business,” I added; “I must know more about it.”

“Another time.”

“No; to-night!—to-night!” and as he turned from the door, I placed myself between it and him.

He looked rather embarrassed.

“You certainly shall not go till you have told me all,” I said.

“I would rather not just now.”

“You shall!—you must!”

“I would rather Diana or Mary informed you.”

Of course these objections wrought my eagerness to a climax: gratified it must be, and that without delay; and I told him so.

“But I apprised you that I was a hard man,” said he, “difficult to persuade.”

“And I am a hard woman,—impossible to put off.”

“And then,” he pursued, “I am cold: no fervour infects me.”

“Whereas I am hot, and fire dissolves ice.

The blaze there has thawed all the snow from your cloak; by the same token, it has streamed on to my floor, and made it like a trampled street. As you hope ever to be forgiven, Mr. Rivers, the high crime and misdemeanour of spoiling a sanded kitchen, tell me what I wish to know.”

“Well, then,” he said, “I yield; if not to your earnestness, to your perseverance: as stone is worn by continual dropping.

Besides, you must know some day,—as well now as later. Your name is Jane Eyre?”

“Of course: that was all settled before.”

“You are not, perhaps, aware that I am your namesake?—that I was christened St.

John Eyre Rivers?”

“No, indeed!

I remember now seeing the letter E. comprised in your initials written in books you have at different times lent me; but I never asked for what name it stood. But what then? Surely—”

I stopped: I could not trust myself to entertain, much less to express, the thought that rushed upon me—that embodied itself,—that, in a second, stood out a strong, solid probability.

Circumstances knit themselves, fitted themselves, shot into order: the chain that had been lying hitherto a formless lump of links was drawn out straight,—every ring was perfect, the connection complete. I knew, by instinct, how the matter stood, before St. John had said another word; but I cannot expect the reader to have the same intuitive perception, so I must repeat his explanation.

“My mother's name was Eyre; she had two brothers; one a clergyman, who married Miss Jane Reed, of Gateshead; the other, John Eyre, Esq., merchant, late of Funchal, Madeira. Mr. Briggs, being Mr. Eyre's solicitor, wrote to us last August to inform us of our uncle's death, and to say that he had left his property to his brother the clergyman's orphan daughter, overlooking us, in consequence of a quarrel, never forgiven, between him and my father. He wrote again a few weeks since, to intimate that the heiress was lost, and asking if we knew anything of her. A name casually written on a slip of paper has enabled me to find her out. You know the rest.” Again he was going, but I set my back against the door.

“Do let me speak,” I said; “let me have one moment to draw breath and reflect.” I paused—he stood before me, hat in hand, looking composed enough.

I resumed—

“Your mother was my father's sister?” “Yes.”

“My aunt, consequently?”

He bowed.

“My uncle John was your uncle John?

You, Diana, and Mary are his sister's children, as I am his brother's child?” “Undeniably.”

“You three, then, are my cousins; half our blood on each side flows from the same source?”

“We are cousins; yes.”

I surveyed him.

It seemed I had found a brother: one I could be proud of,—one I could love; and two sisters, whose qualities were such, that, when I knew them but as mere strangers, they had inspired me with genuine affection and admiration. The two girls, on whom, kneeling down on the wet ground, and looking through the low, latticed window of Moor House kitchen, I had gazed with so bitter a mixture of interest and despair, were my near kinswomen; and the young and stately gentleman who had found me almost dying at his threshold was my blood relation. Glorious discovery to a lonely wretch! This was wealth indeed!—wealth to the heart!—a mine of pure, genial affections. This was a blessing, bright, vivid, and exhilarating;—not like the ponderous gift of gold: rich and welcome enough in its way, but sobering from its weight. I now clapped my hands in sudden joy—my pulse bounded, my veins thrilled.

“Oh, I am glad!—I am glad!” I exclaimed.

St.

John smiled. “Did I not say you neglected essential points to pursue trifles?” he asked. “You were serious when I told you you had got a fortune; and now, for a matter of no moment, you are excited.”

“What can you mean?

It may be of no moment to you; you have sisters and don't care for a cousin; but I had nobody; and now three relations,—or two, if you don't choose to be counted,—are born into my world full-grown. I say again, I am glad!”

I walked fast through the room: I stopped, half suffocated with the thoughts that rose faster than I could receive, comprehend, settle them:—thoughts of what might, could, would, and should be, and that ere long.

I looked at the blank wall: it seemed a sky thick with ascending stars,—every one lit me to a purpose or delight. Those who had saved my life, whom, till this hour, I had loved barrenly, I could now benefit. They were under a yoke,—I could free them: they were scattered,—I could reunite them: the independence, the affluence which was mine, might be theirs too. Were we not four? Twenty thousand pounds shared equally would be five thousand each, justice—enough and to spare: justice would be done,—mutual happiness secured. Now the wealth did not weigh on me: now it was not a mere bequest of coin,—it was a legacy of life, hope, enjoyment.

How I looked while these ideas were taking my spirit by storm, I cannot tell; but I perceived soon that Mr. Rivers had placed a chair behind me, and was gently attempting to make me sit down on it.

He also advised me to be composed; I scorned the insinuation of helplessness and distraction, shook off his hand, and began to walk about again.

“Write to Diana and Mary to-morrow,” I said, “and tell them to come home directly.

Diana said they would both consider themselves rich with a thousand pounds, so with five thousand they will do very well.”

“Tell me where I can get you a glass of water,” said St.

John; “you must really make an effort to tranquillise your feelings.”

“Nonsense!

and what sort of an effect will the bequest have on you? Will it keep you in England, induce you to marry Miss Oliver, and settle down like an ordinary mortal?”

“You wander: your head becomes confused.

I have been too abrupt in communicating the news; it has excited you beyond your strength.”

“Mr.

Rivers! you quite put me out of patience: I am rational enough; it is you who misunderstand, or rather who affect to misunderstand.”

“Perhaps, if you explained yourself a little more fully, I should comprehend better.”

“Explain!

What is there to explain? You cannot fail to see that twenty thousand pounds, the sum in question, divided equally between the nephew and three nieces of our uncle, will give five thousand to each? What I want is, that you should write to your sisters and tell them of the fortune that has accrued to them.”

“To you, you mean.”

“I have intimated my view of the case: I am incapable of taking any other.

I am not brutally selfish, blindly unjust, or fiendishly ungrateful. Besides, I am resolved I will have a home and connections. I like Moor House, and I will live at Moor House; I like Diana and Mary, and I will attach myself for life to Diana and Mary. It would please and benefit me to have five thousand pounds; it would torment and oppress me to have twenty thousand; which, moreover, could never be mine in justice, though it might in law. I abandon to you, then, what is absolutely superfluous to me. Let there be no opposition, and no discussion about it; let us agree amongst each other, and decide the point at once.”

“This is acting on first impulses; you must take days to consider such a matter, ere your word can be regarded as valid.”

“Oh!

if all you doubt is my sincerity, I am easy: you see the justice of the case?”

“I do see a certain justice; but it is contrary to all custom.

Besides, the entire fortune is your right: my uncle gained it by his own efforts; he was free to leave it to whom he would: he left it to you. After all, justice permits you to keep it: you may, with a clear conscience, consider it absolutely your own.”

“With me,” said I, “it is fully as much a matter of feeling as of conscience: I must indulge my feelings; I so seldom have had an opportunity of doing so.

Were you to argue, object, and annoy me for a year, I could not forego the delicious pleasure of which I have caught a glimpse—that of repaying, in part, a mighty obligation, and winning to myself lifelong friends.”

“You think so now,” rejoined St.

John, “because you do not know what it is to possess, nor consequently to enjoy wealth: you cannot form a notion of the importance twenty thousand pounds would give you; of the place it would enable you to take in society; of the prospects it would open to you: you cannot—”

“And you,” I interrupted, “cannot at all imagine the craving I have for fraternal and sisterly love.

I never had a home, I never had brothers or sisters; I must and will have them now: you are not reluctant to admit me and own me, are you?”

“Jane, I will be your brother—my sisters will be your sisters—without stipulating for this sacrifice of your just rights.”

“Brother?

Yes; at the distance of a thousand leagues! Sisters? Yes; slaving amongst strangers! I, wealthy—gorged with gold I never earned and do not merit! You, penniless! Famous equality and fraternisation! Close union! Intimate attachment!”

“But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic happiness may be realised otherwise than by the means you contemplate: you may marry.”

“Nonsense, again!

Marry! I don't want to marry, and never shall marry.” “That is saying too much: such hazardous affirmations are a proof of the excitement under which you labour.”

“It is not saying too much: I know what I feel, and how averse are my inclinations to the bare thought of marriage.

No one would take me for love; and I will not be regarded in the light of a mere money speculation. And I do not want a stranger—unsympathising, alien, different from me; I want my kindred: those with whom I have full fellow-feeling. Say again you will be my brother: when you uttered the words I was satisfied, happy; repeat them, if you can, repeat them sincerely.”

“I think I can.

I know I have always loved my own sisters; and I know on what my affection for them is grounded,—respect for their worth and admiration of their talents. You too have principle and mind: your tastes and habits resemble Diana's and Mary's; your presence is always agreeable to me; in your conversation I have already for some time found a salutary solace. I feel I can easily and naturally make room in my heart for you, as my third and youngest sister.”

“Thank you: that contents me for to-night.

Now you had better go; for if you stay longer, you will perhaps irritate me afresh by some mistrustful scruple.”

“And the school, Miss Eyre?

It must now be shut up, I suppose?”

“No.

I will retain my post of mistress till you get a substitute.”

He smiled approbation: we shook hands, and he took leave.

I need not narrate in detail the further struggles I had, and arguments I used, to get matters regarding the legacy settled as I wished.

My task was a very hard one; but, as I was absolutely resolved—as my cousins saw at length that my mind was really and immutably fixed on making a just division of the property—as they must in their own hearts have felt the equity of the intention; and must, besides, have been innately conscious that in my place they would have done precisely what I wished to do—they yielded at length so far as to consent to put the affair to arbitration. The judges chosen were Mr. Oliver and an able lawyer: both coincided in my opinion: I carried my point. The instruments of transfer were drawn out: St. John, Diana, Mary, and I, each became possessed of a competency.

CHAPTER XXXIII BÖLÜM XXXIII

When Mr. St.

John went, it was beginning to snow; the whirling storm continued all night. John est parti, il commençait à neiger; la tempête tourbillonnante a continué toute la nuit. The next day a keen wind brought fresh and blinding falls; by twilight the valley was drifted up and almost impassable. Le lendemain, un vent vif apporta des chutes fraîches et aveuglantes; au crépuscule, la vallée était à la dérive et presque infranchissable. I had closed my shutter, laid a mat to the door to prevent the snow from blowing in under it, trimmed my fire, and after sitting nearly an hour on the hearth listening to the muffled fury of the tempest, I lit a candle, took down “Marmion,” and beginning— I had closed my shutter, laid a mat to the door to prevent the snow from blowing in under it, trimmed my fire, and after sitting nearly an hour on the hearth listening to the muffled fury of the tempest, I lit a candle, took down “Marmion,” and beginning— J'avais fermé mon volet, posé une natte sur la porte pour empêcher la neige de souffler en dessous, coupé mon feu, et après m'être assis près d'une heure sur le foyer à écouter la fureur étouffée de la tempête, j'ai allumé une bougie, pris vers le bas «Marmion», et début -

“Day set on Norham's castled steep, And Tweed's fair river broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone; The massive towers, the donjon keep, The flanking walls that round them sweep, In yellow lustre shone”— «Le jour était fixé sur la pente raide de Norham, Et la belle rivière de Tweed large et profonde, Et les montagnes de Cheviot solitaires Les tours massives, le donjon, Les murs flanquants qui les entourent balayent, De l'éclat jaune brillaient »- I soon forgot storm in music. J'ai vite oublié l'orage dans la musique.

I heard a noise: the wind, I thought, shook the door.

No; it was St. No; it was St. John Rivers, who, lifting the latch, came in out of the frozen hurricane—the howling darkness—and stood before me: the cloak that covered his tall figure all white as a glacier. John Rivers, qui, soulevant le loquet, est sorti de l'ouragan gelé - l'obscurité hurlante - et s'est tenu devant moi: le manteau qui couvrait sa grande silhouette toute blanche comme un glacier. I was almost in consternation, so little had I expected any guest from the blocked-up vale that night. I was almost in consternation, so little had I expected any guest from the blocked-up vale that night. J'étais presque consterné, si peu je m'attendais à un invité de la vallée bloquée cette nuit-là.

“Any ill news?” I demanded. “Any ill news?” I demanded. «Des mauvaises nouvelles? Ai-je demandé.

“Has anything happened?”

“No.

How very easily alarmed you are!” he answered, removing his cloak and hanging it up against the door, towards which he again coolly pushed the mat which his entrance had deranged. Comme tu t'inquiètes facilement !" répondit-il en enlevant son manteau et en le suspendant contre la porte, vers laquelle il poussa à nouveau froidement le tapis que son entrée avait dérangé. He stamped the snow from his boots.

“I shall sully the purity of your floor,” said he, “but you must excuse me for once.”  Then he approached the fire. «Je vais souiller la pureté de votre plancher,» dit-il, «mais vous devez m'excuser pour une fois. Puis il s'approcha du feu.

“I have had hard work to get here, I assure you,” he observed, as he warmed his hands over the flame. «J'ai travaillé dur pour arriver ici, je vous assure», observa-t-il en réchauffant ses mains au-dessus de la flamme. “One drift took me up to the waist; happily the snow is quite soft yet.” «Une dérive m'a emmené jusqu'à la taille; heureusement, la neige est encore assez molle.

“But why are you come?” I could not forbear saying. «Mais pourquoi es-tu venu?» Je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher de dire.

“Rather an inhospitable question to put to a visitor; but since you ask it, I answer simply to have a little talk with you; I got tired of my mute books and empty rooms. "C'est plutôt une question inhospitalière à poser à un visiteur ; mais puisque vous la posez, je réponds simplement pour avoir une petite conversation avec vous ; j'en ai eu assez de mes livres muets et de mes chambres vides.

Besides, since yesterday I have experienced the excitement of a person to whom a tale has been half-told, and who is impatient to hear the sequel.” D'ailleurs, depuis hier, j'ai éprouvé l'excitation d'une personne à qui une histoire a été à moitié racontée, et qui est impatiente d'entendre la suite.

He sat down.

I recalled his singular conduct of yesterday, and really I began to fear his wits were touched. Je me suis souvenu de sa conduite singulière d'hier et j'ai vraiment commencé à craindre que son esprit ne soit touché. If he were insane, however, his was a very cool and collected insanity: I had never seen that handsome-featured face of his look more like chiselled marble than it did just now, as he put aside his snow-wet hair from his forehead and let the firelight shine free on his pale brow and cheek as pale, where it grieved me to discover the hollow trace of care or sorrow now so plainly graved. S'il était fou, cependant, c'était une folie très cool et recueillie: je n'avais jamais vu ce beau visage de son air plus comme du marbre ciselé que tout à l'heure, alors qu'il mettait de côté ses cheveux mouillés par la neige de son front. et laissez la lueur du feu briller librement sur son front pâle et sa joue aussi pâle, où cela me peinait de découvrir la trace creuse de soin ou de douleur maintenant si clairement gravée. I waited, expecting he would say something I could at least comprehend; but his hand was now at his chin, his finger on his lip: he was thinking. I waited, expecting he would say something I could at least comprehend; but his hand was now at his chin, his finger on his lip: he was thinking. It struck me that his hand looked wasted like his face. J'ai été frappé par le fait que sa main avait l'air gaspillée comme son visage. A perhaps uncalled-for gush of pity came over my heart: I was moved to say— Un jaillissement de pitié peut-être déplacé me traversa le cœur: je fus ému de dire:

“I wish Diana or Mary would come and live with you: it is too bad that you should be quite alone; and you are recklessly rash about your own health.” «Je souhaite que Diana ou Mary vienne vivre avec vous: il est dommage que vous soyez tout seul; et vous êtes imprudemment téméraire au sujet de votre propre santé.

“Not at all,” said he: “I care for myself when necessary.

I am well now. What do you see amiss in me?” Que voyez-vous qui cloche en moi?

This was said with a careless, abstracted indifference, which showed that my solicitude was, at least in his opinion, wholly superfluous. Cela fut dit avec une indifférence insouciante et abstraite, qui montrait que ma sollicitude était, du moins à son avis, tout à fait superflue.

I was silenced.

He still slowly moved his finger over his upper lip, and still his eye dwelt dreamily on the glowing grate; thinking it urgent to say something, I asked him presently if he felt any cold draught from the door, which was behind him. Il déplaçait toujours lentement son doigt sur sa lèvre supérieure, et son œil demeurait toujours rêveur sur la grille rougeoyante; Pensant qu'il était urgent de dire quelque chose, je lui demandai tout de suite s'il sentait un courant d'air froid provenant de la porte, qui était derrière lui.

“No, no!” he responded shortly and somewhat testily. "Non non!" il a répondu brièvement et avec un peu de colère.

“Well,” I reflected, “if you won't talk, you may be still; I'll let you alone now, and return to my book.” "Si vous ne voulez pas parler, vous pouvez rester tranquille. Je vais vous laisser tranquille et retourner à mon livre. So I snuffed the candle and resumed the perusal of “Marmion.”  He soon stirred; my eye was instantly drawn to his movements; he only took out a morocco pocket-book, thence produced a letter, which he read in silence, folded it, put it back, relapsed into meditation. J'ai donc éteint la bougie et repris la lecture de «Marmion». Il remua bientôt; mon œil fut instantanément attiré par ses mouvements; il ne sortit qu'un livre de poche en maroquin, de là sortit une lettre qu'il lut en silence, la plia, la remit, retomba dans la méditation.

It was vain to try to read with such an inscrutable fixture before me; nor could I, in impatience, consent to be dumb; he might rebuff me if he liked, but talk I would. Il était vain d'essayer de lire avec un appareil aussi insondable devant moi; je ne pouvais pas non plus, dans l'impatience, consentir à être muet; il pourrait me rebuter s'il le voulait, mais je le ferais pour parler.

“Have you heard from Diana and Mary lately?”

“Not since the letter I showed you a week ago.”

“There has not been any change made about your own arrangements? «Il n'y a pas eu de changement dans vos propres arrangements?

You will not be summoned to leave England sooner than you expected?” Vous ne serez pas obligé de quitter l'Angleterre plus tôt que prévu ?"

“I fear not, indeed: such chance is too good to befall me.”  Baffled so far, I changed my ground. «Je n'ai pas peur, en effet: une telle chance est trop belle pour m'arriver. Déconcerté jusqu'ici, j'ai changé de terrain.

I bethought myself to talk about the school and my scholars. J'ai pensé à parler de l'école et de mes universitaires.

“Mary Garrett's mother is better, and Mary came back to the school this morning, and I shall have four new girls next week from the Foundry Close—they would have come to-day but for the snow.” "La mère de Mary Garrett va mieux, et Mary est revenue à l'école ce matin, et j'aurai quatre nouvelles filles la semaine prochaine en provenance de Foundry Close - elles seraient venues aujourd'hui s'il n'y avait pas eu de neige. “Indeed!”

“Mr.

Oliver pays for two.” Oliver paie pour deux".

“Does he?”

“He means to give the whole school a treat at Christmas.” «Il veut donner une friandise à toute l'école à Noël.»

“I know.”

“Was it your suggestion?”

“No.”

“Whose, then?”

“His daughter's, I think.” “It is like her: she is so good-natured.” «C'est comme elle: elle est si gentille.

“Yes.”

Again came the blank of a pause: the clock struck eight strokes. De nouveau vint le blanc d'une pause: l'horloge sonna huit coups.

It aroused him; he uncrossed his legs, sat erect, turned to me. Cela l'a excité; il décroisa les jambes, se redressa, se tourna vers moi.

“Leave your book a moment, and come a little nearer the fire,” he said.

Wondering, and of my wonder finding no end, I complied. Me demandant, et de mon émerveillement ne trouvant pas de fin, je me suis conformé.

“Half-an-hour ago,” he pursued, “I spoke of my impatience to hear the sequel of a tale: on reflection, I find the matter will be better managed by my assuming the narrator's part, and converting you into a listener. «Il y a une demi-heure, poursuivit-il, j'ai parlé de mon impatience d'entendre la suite d'un conte: à la réflexion, je trouve que l'affaire sera mieux gérée en assumant le rôle de narrateur et en vous convertissant en auditeur . Before commencing, it is but fair to warn you that the story will sound somewhat hackneyed in your ears; but stale details often regain a degree of freshness when they pass through new lips. Avant de commencer, il est juste de vous avertir que l'histoire vous paraîtra un peu éculée; mais les détails périmés retrouvent souvent une certaine fraîcheur lorsqu'ils passent sur de nouvelles lèvres. For the rest, whether trite or novel, it is short. Pour le reste, banal ou roman, c'est court.

“Twenty years ago, a poor curate—never mind his name at this moment—fell in love with a rich man's daughter; she fell in love with him, and married him, against the advice of all her friends, who consequently disowned her immediately after the wedding. Before two years passed, the rash pair were both dead, and laid quietly side by side under one slab. Avant que deux ans ne se soient écoulés, la paire d'éruptions cutanées était morte et posée tranquillement côte à côte sous une dalle. (I have seen their grave; it formed part of the pavement of a huge churchyard surrounding the grim, soot-black old cathedral of an overgrown manufacturing town in ---shire. (J'ai vu leur tombe; elle faisait partie du trottoir d'un immense cimetière entourant la vieille cathédrale sombre et noire de suie d'une ville manufacturière envahie par la ... comté. )  They left a daughter, which, at its very birth, Charity received in her lap—cold as that of the snow-drift I almost stuck fast in to-night. ) Ils ont laissé une fille, que Charity, à sa naissance même, a reçue sur ses genoux - aussi froide que celle de la neige fondue dans laquelle je suis presque resté cette nuit. Charity carried the friendless thing to the house of its rich maternal relations; it was reared by an aunt-in-law, called (I come to names now) Mrs. Reed of Gateshead. La charité portait la chose sans amis dans la maison de ses riches relations maternelles; il a été élevé par une belle-tante, appelée (j'en viens aux noms maintenant) Mme Reed de Gateshead. You start—did you hear a noise? Vous commencez - avez-vous entendu un bruit ? I daresay it is only a rat scrambling along the rafters of the adjoining schoolroom: it was a barn before I had it repaired and altered, and barns are generally haunted by rats.—To proceed. J'ose dire que ce n'est qu'un rat qui grimpe le long des chevrons de la salle de classe attenante: c'était une grange avant que je la fasse réparer et modifier, et les granges sont généralement hantées par des rats. Mrs. Reed kept the orphan ten years: whether it was happy or not with her, I cannot say, never having been told; but at the end of that time she transferred it to a place you know—being no other than Lowood School, where you so long resided yourself. Mrs. Reed kept the orphan ten years: whether it was happy or not with her, I cannot say, never having been told; but at the end of that time she transferred it to a place you know—being no other than Lowood School, where you so long resided yourself. Mme Reed a gardé l'orphelin pendant dix ans : je ne saurais dire s'il a été heureux ou non avec elle, car on ne me l'a jamais dit ; mais à la fin de cette période, elle l'a transféré à un endroit que vous connaissez - qui n'est autre que Lowood School, où vous avez vous-même résidé pendant si longtemps. It seems her career there was very honourable: from a pupil, she became a teacher, like yourself—really it strikes me there are parallel points in her history and yours—she left it to be a governess: there, again, your fates were analogous; she undertook the education of the ward of a certain Mr. Rochester.” Il semble que sa carrière y ait été très honorable : d'élève, elle est devenue institutrice, comme vous - il me semble d'ailleurs qu'il y a des points parallèles dans son histoire et la vôtre - elle l'a quittée pour devenir gouvernante : là encore, vos destins ont été analogues ; elle a entrepris l'éducation de la pupille d'un certain M. Rochester."

“Mr.

Rivers!” I interrupted.

“I can guess your feelings,” he said, “but restrain them for a while: I have nearly finished; hear me to the end. “I can guess your feelings,” he said, “but restrain them for a while: I have nearly finished; hear me to the end. «Je peux deviner vos sentiments,» dit-il, «mais retenez-les pendant un moment: j'ai presque fini; écoutez-moi jusqu'au bout.

Of Mr. Rochester's character I know nothing, but the one fact that he professed to offer honourable marriage to this young girl, and that at the very altar she discovered he had a wife yet alive, though a lunatic. Of Mr. Rochester's character I know nothing, but the one fact that he professed to offer honourable marriage to this young girl, and that at the very altar she discovered he had a wife yet alive, though a lunatic. What his subsequent conduct and proposals were is a matter of pure conjecture; but when an event transpired which rendered inquiry after the governess necessary, it was discovered she was gone—no one could tell when, where, or how. What his subsequent conduct and proposals were is a matter of pure conjecture; but when an event transpired which rendered inquiry after the governess necessary, it was discovered she was gone—no one could tell when, where, or how. Quelle a été sa conduite et ses propositions ultérieures est une question de pure conjecture; mais quand un événement se produisit qui rendit nécessaire une enquête sur la gouvernante, on découvrit qu'elle était partie - personne ne pouvait dire quand, où ni comment. She had left Thornfield Hall in the night; every research after her course had been vain: the country had been scoured far and wide; no vestige of information could be gathered respecting her. She had left Thornfield Hall in the night; every research after her course had been vain: the country had been scoured far and wide; no vestige of information could be gathered respecting her. Elle avait quitté Thornfield Hall dans la nuit; toutes les recherches après son cours avaient été vaines: le pays avait été parcouru au loin; aucun vestige d'information n'a pu être recueilli à son sujet. Yet that she should be found is become a matter of serious urgency: advertisements have been put in all the papers; I myself have received a letter from one Mr. Briggs, a solicitor, communicating the details I have just imparted. Yet that she should be found is become a matter of serious urgency: advertisements have been put in all the papers; I myself have received a letter from one Mr. Briggs, a solicitor, communicating the details I have just imparted. Pourtant, qu'elle devrait être retrouvée est devenue une question urgente: des publicités ont été mises dans tous les journaux; J'ai moi-même reçu une lettre d'un certain M. Briggs, avocat, communiquant les détails que je viens de donner. Is it not an odd tale?”

“Just tell me this,” said I, “and since you know so much, you surely can tell it me—what of Mr. Rochester? “Just tell me this,” said I, “and since you know so much, you surely can tell it me—what of Mr. Rochester? «Dites-moi simplement ceci, dis-je, et puisque vous en savez tant, vous pouvez sûrement me le dire - qu'en est-il de M. Rochester?

How and where is he? What is he doing? Is he well?”

“I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rochester: the letter never mentions him but to narrate the fraudulent and illegal attempt I have adverted to. “I am ignorant of all concerning Mr. Rochester: the letter never mentions him but to narrate the fraudulent and illegal attempt I have adverted to. «J'ignore tout ce qui concerne M. Rochester: la lettre ne le mentionne jamais que pour raconter la tentative frauduleuse et illégale dont j'ai parlé.

You should rather ask the name of the governess—the nature of the event which requires her appearance.” You should rather ask the name of the governess—the nature of the event which requires her appearance.” Vous devriez plutôt demander le nom de la gouvernante - la nature de l'événement qui nécessite son apparition.

“Did no one go to Thornfield Hall, then? «Personne n'est allé à Thornfield Hall, alors?

Did no one see Mr. Rochester?”

“I suppose not.”

“But they wrote to him?”

“Of course.”

“And what did he say?

Who has his letters?”

“Mr.

Briggs intimates that the answer to his application was not from Mr. Rochester, but from a lady: it is signed ‘Alice Fairfax. Briggs laisse entendre que la réponse à sa demande ne provenait pas de M. Rochester, mais d'une dame : elle est signée " Alice Fairfax ". '” I felt cold and dismayed: my worst fears then were probably true: he had in all probability left England and rushed in reckless desperation to some former haunt on the Continent. I felt cold and dismayed: my worst fears then were probably true: he had in all probability left England and rushed in reckless desperation to some former haunt on the Continent. Je me sentais froid et consterné: mes pires craintes à l'époque étaient probablement vraies: il avait probablement quitté l'Angleterre et s'était précipité en désespoir de cause vers un ancien repaire du continent.

And what opiate for his severe sufferings—what object for his strong passions—had he sought there? Et quel opiacé pour ses graves souffrances - quel objet pour ses fortes passions - y avait-il cherché? I dared not answer the question. Oh, my poor master—once almost my husband—whom I had often called “my dear Edward!” Oh, mon pauvre maître - autrefois presque mon mari - que j'ai souvent appelé "mon cher Edward" !

“He must have been a bad man,” observed Mr. Rivers.

“You don't know him—don't pronounce an opinion upon him,” I said, with warmth. "Vous ne le connaissez pas, ne vous prononcez pas sur lui", dis-je avec chaleur. “Very well,” he answered quietly: “and indeed my head is otherwise occupied than with him: I have my tale to finish. “Very well,” he answered quietly: “and indeed my head is otherwise occupied than with him: I have my tale to finish.

Since you won't ask the governess's name, I must tell it of my own accord. Puisque vous ne demandez pas le nom de la gouvernante, je dois le dire de mon propre chef. Stay! I have it here—it is always more satisfactory to see important points written down, fairly committed to black and white.” I have it here—it is always more satisfactory to see important points written down, fairly committed to black and white.” Je l'ai ici - il est toujours plus satisfaisant de voir des points importants écrits, assez engagés dans le noir et blanc.

And the pocket-book was again deliberately produced, opened, sought through; from one of its compartments was extracted a shabby slip of paper, hastily torn off: I recognised in its texture and its stains of ultra-marine, and lake, and vermillion, the ravished margin of the portrait-cover. And the pocket-book was again deliberately produced, opened, sought through; from one of its compartments was extracted a shabby slip of paper, hastily torn off: I recognised in its texture and its stains of ultra-marine, and lake, and vermillion, the ravished margin of the portrait-cover. Et le livre de poche fut de nouveau délibérément produit, ouvert, recherché; de l'un de ses compartiments fut extrait un minable bout de papier, arraché à la hâte: je reconnus dans sa texture et ses taches d'ultra-marine, de lac et de vermillon, la marge ravie de la couverture du portrait.

He got up, held it close to my eyes: and I read, traced in Indian ink, in my own handwriting, the words “Jane Eyre”—the work doubtless of some moment of abstraction. He got up, held it close to my eyes: and I read, traced in Indian ink, in my own handwriting, the words “Jane Eyre”—the work doubtless of some moment of abstraction. Il se leva, le tint près de mes yeux: et je lisais, tracé à l'encre de Chine, de ma propre écriture, les mots «Jane Eyre» - l'œuvre sans doute d'un moment d'abstraction.

“Briggs wrote to me of a Jane Eyre:” he said, “the advertisements demanded a Jane Eyre: I knew a Jane Elliott.—I confess I had my suspicions, but it was only yesterday afternoon they were at once resolved into certainty. “Briggs wrote to me of a Jane Eyre:” he said, “the advertisements demanded a Jane Eyre: I knew a Jane Elliott.—I confess I had my suspicions, but it was only yesterday afternoon they were at once resolved into certainty. "Briggs m'a écrit au sujet d'une Jane Eyre ; les annonces demandaient une Jane Eyre : J'avoue que j'avais des soupçons, mais ce n'est qu'hier après-midi qu'ils se sont immédiatement transformés en certitude.

You own the name and renounce the alias ?”

“Yes—yes; but where is Mr. Briggs?

He perhaps knows more of Mr. Rochester than you do.”

“Briggs is in London.

I should doubt his knowing anything at all about Mr. Rochester; it is not in Mr. Rochester he is interested. I should doubt his knowing anything at all about Mr. Rochester; it is not in Mr. Rochester he is interested. Meantime, you forget essential points in pursuing trifles: you do not inquire why Mr. Briggs sought after you—what he wanted with you.” Meantime, you forget essential points in pursuing trifles: you do not inquire why Mr. Briggs sought after you—what he wanted with you.” En attendant, vous oubliez les points essentiels dans la poursuite de bagatelles: vous ne demandez pas pourquoi M. Briggs vous a recherché - ce qu'il voulait de vous.

“Well, what did he want?”

“Merely to tell you that your uncle, Mr. Eyre of Madeira, is dead; that he has left you all his property, and that you are now rich—merely that—nothing more.”

“I!—rich?”

“Yes, you, rich—quite an heiress.” "Oui, vous, riche, une vraie héritière".

Silence succeeded.

“You must prove your identity of course,” resumed St.

John presently: “a step which will offer no difficulties; you can then enter on immediate possession. John actuellement: «une étape qui n'offrira aucune difficulté; vous pouvez alors entrer en possession immédiate. Your fortune is vested in the English funds; Briggs has the will and the necessary documents.” Votre fortune est investie dans les fonds anglais; Briggs a le testament et les documents nécessaires.

Here was a new card turned up! Voici une nouvelle carte révélée!

It is a fine thing, reader, to be lifted in a moment from indigence to wealth—a very fine thing; but not a matter one can comprehend, or consequently enjoy, all at once. It is a fine thing, reader, to be lifted in a moment from indigence to wealth—a very fine thing; but not a matter one can comprehend, or consequently enjoy, all at once. C'est une belle chose, lecteur, d'être élevé en un instant de l'indigence à la richesse - une très belle chose; mais pas une question que l'on puisse comprendre, ou par conséquent apprécier, tout à la fois. And then there are other chances in life far more thrilling and rapture-giving: this is solid, an affair of the actual world, nothing ideal about it: all its associations are solid and sober, and its manifestations are the same. Et puis il y a d'autres chances dans la vie beaucoup plus excitantes et ravissantes: c'est solide, une affaire du monde actuel, rien d'idéal à ce sujet: toutes ses associations sont solides et sobres, et ses manifestations sont les mêmes. One does not jump, and spring, and shout hurrah! On ne saute pas, on ne s'élance pas, on ne crie pas hourra ! at hearing one has got a fortune; one begins to consider responsibilities, and to ponder business; on a base of steady satisfaction rise certain grave cares, and we contain ourselves, and brood over our bliss with a solemn brow. en entendant on a une fortune; on commence à considérer les responsabilités et à réfléchir aux affaires; sur une base de satisfaction constante, s'élèvent certains soucis graves, et nous nous contenons, et nous couvons notre bonheur d'un front solennel.

Besides, the words Legacy, Bequest, go side by side with the words, Death, Funeral. Par ailleurs, les mots héritage, legs, vont de pair avec les mots décès, funérailles.

My uncle I had heard was dead—my only relative; ever since being made aware of his existence, I had cherished the hope of one day seeing him: now, I never should. My uncle I had heard was dead—my only relative; ever since being made aware of his existence, I had cherished the hope of one day seeing him: now, I never should. J'avais entendu dire que mon oncle était mort - mon seul parent; depuis que j'avais pris conscience de son existence, j'avais caressé l'espoir de le revoir un jour: maintenant, je ne le devrais jamais. And then this money came only to me: not to me and a rejoicing family, but to my isolated self. And then this money came only to me: not to me and a rejoicing family, but to my isolated self. Et puis cet argent n'est arrivé qu'à moi : pas à moi et à une famille en liesse, mais à mon moi isolé. It was a grand boon doubtless; and independence would be glorious—yes, I felt that—that thought swelled my heart. It was a grand boon doubtless; and independence would be glorious—yes, I felt that—that thought swelled my heart. C'était sans aucun doute une grande aubaine; et l'indépendance serait glorieuse - oui, je le sentais - cette pensée me gonfla le cœur.

“You unbend your forehead at last,” said Mr. Rivers. «Enfin, vous détendez le front», dit M. Rivers.

“I thought Medusa had looked at you, and that you were turning to stone. "Je pensais que Méduse t'avait regardé et que tu te transformais en pierre. Perhaps now you will ask how much you are worth?” Peut-être allez-vous maintenant demander combien vous valez?

“How much am I worth?” «Combien vaux-je?»

“Oh, a trifle! "Oh, une bagatelle !

Nothing of course to speak of—twenty thousand pounds, I think they say—but what is that?” Il n'y a rien à dire - vingt mille livres, je crois qu'ils disent - mais qu'est-ce que c'est ?"

“Twenty thousand pounds?”

Here was a new stunner—I had been calculating on four or five thousand. Voici un nouvel étourdissant - j'avais calculé sur quatre ou cinq mille.

This news actually took my breath for a moment: Mr. St. John, whom I had never heard laugh before, laughed now.

“Well,” said he, “if you had committed a murder, and I had told you your crime was discovered, you could scarcely look more aghast.” “Well,” said he, “if you had committed a murder, and I had told you your crime was discovered, you could scarcely look more aghast.” «Eh bien,» dit-il, «si vous aviez commis un meurtre et que je vous avais dit que votre crime avait été découvert, vous ne pouviez guère paraître plus consterné.

“It is a large sum—don't you think there is a mistake?” “No mistake at all.”

“Perhaps you have read the figures wrong—it may be two thousand!”

“It is written in letters, not figures,—twenty thousand.”

I again felt rather like an individual of but average gastronomical powers sitting down to feast alone at a table spread with provisions for a hundred. Je me sentais à nouveau plutôt comme un individu de puissance gastronomique moyenne assis pour se régaler seul à une table étalée avec des provisions pour cent.

Mr. Rivers rose now and put his cloak on.

“If it were not such a very wild night,” he said, “I would send Hannah down to keep you company: you look too desperately miserable to be left alone. “If it were not such a very wild night,” he said, “I would send Hannah down to keep you company: you look too desperately miserable to be left alone. "S'il ne s'agissait pas d'une nuit si sauvage, dit-il, je ferais descendre Hannah pour vous tenir compagnie : vous avez l'air trop désespérément malheureux pour rester seul.

But Hannah, poor woman! could not stride the drifts so well as I: her legs are not quite so long: so I must e'en leave you to your sorrows. Je ne pouvais pas marcher aussi bien que moi dans les dérives: ses jambes ne sont pas tout à fait si longues: il faut donc que je vous laisse à vos peines. Good-night.”

He was lifting the latch: a sudden thought occurred to me. Il soulevait le loquet: une pensée soudaine m'est venue.

“Stop one minute!” I cried.

“Well?”

“It puzzles me to know why Mr. Briggs wrote to you about me; or how he knew you, or could fancy that you, living in such an out-of-the-way place, had the power to aid in my discovery.” «Cela me laisse perplexe de savoir pourquoi M. Briggs vous a écrit à mon sujet; ou comment il vous connaissait, ou pouvait imaginer que vous, vivant dans un endroit si éloigné, aviez le pouvoir d'aider à ma découverte.

“Oh!

I am a clergyman,” he said; “and the clergy are often appealed to about odd matters.”  Again the latch rattled. Je suis un ecclésiastique », a-t-il dit; «Et le clergé est souvent sollicité pour des questions étranges.» Encore une fois, le loquet a claqué.

“No; that does not satisfy me!” I exclaimed: and indeed there was something in the hasty and unexplanatory reply which, instead of allaying, piqued my curiosity more than ever. "Non; cela ne me satisfait pas! M'écriai-je: et en effet il y avait quelque chose dans la réponse hâtive et non explicative qui, au lieu de calmer, piqua plus que jamais ma curiosité.

“It is a very strange piece of business,” I added; “I must know more about it.” «C'est une affaire très étrange», ai-je ajouté; «Je dois en savoir plus.»

“Another time.”

“No; to-night!—to-night!” and as he turned from the door, I placed myself between it and him.

He looked rather embarrassed.

“You certainly shall not go till you have told me all,” I said.

“I would rather not just now.”

“You shall!—you must!”

“I would rather Diana or Mary informed you.”

Of course these objections wrought my eagerness to a climax: gratified it must be, and that without delay; and I told him so. Bien sûr, ces objections ont forgé mon empressement à un point culminant: il doit être satisfait, et cela sans délai; et je le lui ai dit.

“But I apprised you that I was a hard man,” said he, “difficult to persuade.” "Mais je vous ai dit que j'étais un homme dur", dit-il, "difficile à persuader".

“And I am a hard woman,—impossible to put off.” «Et je suis une femme dure, impossible à repousser.

“And then,” he pursued, “I am cold: no fervour infects me.” «Et puis, poursuivit-il, j'ai froid: aucune ferveur ne m'infecte.

“Whereas I am hot, and fire dissolves ice. "Alors que je suis chaud, et que le feu dissout la glace.

The blaze there has thawed all the snow from your cloak; by the same token, it has streamed on to my floor, and made it like a trampled street. L'incendie là-bas a dégelé toute la neige de votre manteau; du même coup, il a coulé sur mon étage et en a fait comme une rue piétinée. As you hope ever to be forgiven, Mr. Rivers, the high crime and misdemeanour of spoiling a sanded kitchen, tell me what I wish to know.” Comme vous espérez jamais être pardonné, M. Rivers, le crime et le délit de gâter une cuisine sablée, dites-moi ce que je souhaite savoir.

“Well, then,” he said, “I yield; if not to your earnestness, to your perseverance: as stone is worn by continual dropping. «Eh bien, alors, dit-il, je cède; sinon à votre sérieux, à votre persévérance: comme la pierre est usée par des chutes continuelles.

Besides, you must know some day,—as well now as later. D'ailleurs, il faudra bien que vous le sachiez un jour, aussi bien maintenant que plus tard. Your name is Jane Eyre?”

“Of course: that was all settled before.” "Bien sûr: tout était réglé avant."

“You are not, perhaps, aware that I am your namesake?—that I was christened St. "Vous ne savez peut-être pas que je suis votre homonyme ? que j'ai été baptisé St.

John Eyre Rivers?”

“No, indeed!

I remember now seeing the letter E. comprised in your initials written in books you have at different times lent me; but I never asked for what name it stood. Je me souviens avoir vu maintenant la lettre E. contenue dans vos initiales écrite dans des livres que vous m'avez prêtés à différentes époques; mais je n'ai jamais demandé quel nom il portait. But what then? Surely—”

I stopped: I could not trust myself to entertain, much less to express, the thought that rushed upon me—that embodied itself,—that, in a second, stood out a strong, solid probability. Je m'arrêtai: je ne pouvais pas me fier à entretenir, encore moins à exprimer, la pensée qui se précipitait sur moi - qui s'incarnait, - qui, en une seconde, se détachait d'une forte et solide probabilité.

Circumstances knit themselves, fitted themselves, shot into order: the chain that had been lying hitherto a formless lump of links was drawn out straight,—every ring was perfect, the connection complete. Les circonstances se tricotent, s'emboîtent, se mettent en ordre: la chaîne qui reposait jusque-là, une masse de maillons informe, était tirée droite, - chaque anneau était parfait, la connexion complète. I knew, by instinct, how the matter stood, before St. Je savais, par instinct, comment la question en était, avant St. John had said another word; but I cannot expect the reader to have the same intuitive perception, so I must repeat his explanation. John had said another word; but I cannot expect the reader to have the same intuitive perception, so I must repeat his explanation. John avait dit un autre mot; mais je ne peux pas m'attendre à ce que le lecteur ait la même perception intuitive, je dois donc répéter son explication.

“My mother's name was Eyre; she had two brothers; one a clergyman, who married Miss Jane Reed, of Gateshead; the other, John Eyre, Esq., merchant, late of Funchal, Madeira. “My mother's name was Eyre; she had two brothers; one a clergyman, who married Miss Jane Reed, of Gateshead; the other, John Eyre, Esq., merchant, late of Funchal, Madeira. Mr. Briggs, being Mr. Eyre's solicitor, wrote to us last August to inform us of our uncle's death, and to say that he had left his property to his brother the clergyman's orphan daughter, overlooking us, in consequence of a quarrel, never forgiven, between him and my father. M. Briggs, étant l'avocat de M. Eyre, nous a écrit en août dernier pour nous informer de la mort de notre oncle, et pour nous dire qu'il avait laissé sa propriété à son frère la fille orpheline du pasteur, nous surplombant, à la suite d'une querelle, jamais pardonné, entre lui et mon père. He wrote again a few weeks since, to intimate that the heiress was lost, and asking if we knew anything of her. Il a de nouveau écrit quelques semaines depuis, pour insinuer que l'héritière était perdue, et pour demander si nous savions quelque chose d'elle. A name casually written on a slip of paper has enabled me to find her out. Un nom écrit avec désinvolture sur un bout de papier m'a permis de la découvrir. You know the rest.”  Again he was going, but I set my back against the door.

“Do let me speak,” I said; “let me have one moment to draw breath and reflect.”  I paused—he stood before me, hat in hand, looking composed enough.

I resumed—

“Your mother was my father's sister?” “Yes.”

“My aunt, consequently?”

He bowed.

“My uncle John was your uncle John?

You, Diana, and Mary are his sister's children, as I am his brother's child?” “Undeniably.”

“You three, then, are my cousins; half our blood on each side flows from the same source?” «Vous trois, donc, êtes mes cousins; la moitié de notre sang de chaque côté coule de la même source?

“We are cousins; yes.”

I surveyed him.

It seemed I had found a brother: one I could be proud of,—one I could love; and two sisters, whose qualities were such, that, when I knew them but as mere strangers, they had inspired me with genuine affection and admiration. Il me semblait avoir trouvé un frère, un frère dont je pouvais être fier, un frère que je pouvais aimer, et deux soeurs dont les qualités étaient telles que, lorsque je ne les connaissais que comme de simples étrangères, elles m'avaient inspiré une affection et une admiration sincères. The two girls, on whom, kneeling down on the wet ground, and looking through the low, latticed window of Moor House kitchen, I had gazed with so bitter a mixture of interest and despair, were my near kinswomen; and the young and stately gentleman who had found me almost dying at his threshold was my blood relation. Les deux filles, sur lesquelles, agenouillée sur le sol humide, et regardant à travers la basse fenêtre grillagée de la cuisine de Moor House, j'avais regardé avec un si amer mélange d'intérêt et de désespoir, étaient mes proches parentes; et le jeune et majestueux gentilhomme qui m'avait trouvé presque mourant à son seuil était mon parent de sang. Glorious discovery to a lonely wretch! Glorieuse découverte pour un misérable solitaire! This was wealth indeed!—wealth to the heart!—a mine of pure, genial affections. C'était bien la richesse! - la richesse au cœur! - une mine d'affections pures et géniales. This was a blessing, bright, vivid, and exhilarating;—not like the ponderous gift of gold: rich and welcome enough in its way, but sobering from its weight. C'était une bénédiction, brillante, vivante et exaltante; - pas comme le don pesant de l'or: assez riche et bienvenu à sa manière, mais dégrisant par son poids. I now clapped my hands in sudden joy—my pulse bounded, my veins thrilled.

“Oh, I am glad!—I am glad!” I exclaimed.

St.

John smiled. “Did I not say you neglected essential points to pursue trifles?” he asked. «N'ai-je pas dit que vous aviez négligé des points essentiels pour poursuivre des bagatelles?» Il a demandé. “You were serious when I told you you had got a fortune; and now, for a matter of no moment, you are excited.” "Tu étais sérieux quand je t'ai dit que tu avais fait fortune, et maintenant, pour un rien, tu es excité.

“What can you mean?

It may be of no moment to you; you have sisters and don't care for a cousin; but I had nobody; and now three relations,—or two, if you don't choose to be counted,—are born into my world full-grown. Cela peut ne pas vous intéresser; vous avez des sœurs et vous ne vous souciez pas d'un cousin; mais je n'avais personne; et maintenant trois relations, - ou deux, si vous ne choisissez pas d'être compté, - sont nées dans mon monde pleinement développé. I say again, I am glad!”

I walked fast through the room: I stopped, half suffocated with the thoughts that rose faster than I could receive, comprehend, settle them:—thoughts of what might, could, would, and should be, and that ere long. Je marchais vite dans la pièce: je m'arrêtais, à moitié étouffé par les pensées qui montaient plus vite que je ne pouvais les recevoir, les comprendre, les calmer: - des pensées de ce qui pourrait, pourrait, serait et devrait être, et cela avant longtemps.

I looked at the blank wall: it seemed a sky thick with ascending stars,—every one lit me to a purpose or delight. Je regardai le mur blanc: il me paraissait un ciel épais d'étoiles ascendantes, - chacun m'éclairait dans un but ou un plaisir. Those who had saved my life, whom, till this hour, I had loved barrenly, I could now benefit. Ceux qui m'avaient sauvé la vie, que, jusqu'à cette heure, j'avais aimés stérilement, je pouvais maintenant bénéficier. They were under a yoke,—I could free them: they were scattered,—I could reunite them: the independence, the affluence which was mine, might be theirs too. Ils étaient sous un joug, - je pourrais les libérer: ils étaient dispersés, - je pourrais les réunir: l'indépendance, la richesse qui était la mienne, pourraient être à eux aussi. Were we not four? N'étions-nous pas quatre? Twenty thousand pounds shared equally would be five thousand each, justice—enough and to spare: justice would be done,—mutual happiness secured. Twenty thousand pounds shared equally would be five thousand each, justice—enough and to spare: justice would be done,—mutual happiness secured. Vingt mille livres partagées équitablement équivaudraient à cinq mille chacune, justice - assez et épargnée: justice serait faite, - bonheur mutuel assuré. Now the wealth did not weigh on me: now it was not a mere bequest of coin,—it was a legacy of life, hope, enjoyment. Or la richesse ne me pesait plus: ce n'était plus un simple legs de monnaie, c'était un héritage de vie, d'espoir, de jouissance.

How I looked while these ideas were taking my spirit by storm, I cannot tell; but I perceived soon that Mr. Rivers had placed a chair behind me, and was gently attempting to make me sit down on it. How I looked while these ideas were taking my spirit by storm, I cannot tell; but I perceived soon that Mr. Rivers had placed a chair behind me, and was gently attempting to make me sit down on it. Comment j'avais l'air pendant que ces idées prenaient d'assaut mon esprit, je ne peux pas le dire; mais je compris bientôt que M. Rivers avait placé une chaise derrière moi, et essayait doucement de me faire asseoir dessus.

He also advised me to be composed; I scorned the insinuation of helplessness and distraction, shook off his hand, and began to walk about again. He also advised me to be composed; I scorned the insinuation of helplessness and distraction, shook off his hand, and began to walk about again. Il m'a également conseillé d'être calme; J'ai méprisé l'insinuation d'impuissance et de distraction, lui ai secoué la main et j'ai recommencé à marcher.

“Write to Diana and Mary to-morrow,” I said, “and tell them to come home directly.

Diana said they would both consider themselves rich with a thousand pounds, so with five thousand they will do very well.”

“Tell me where I can get you a glass of water,” said St. "Dites-moi où je peux vous donner un verre d'eau", dit St.

John; “you must really make an effort to tranquillise your feelings.”

“Nonsense!

and what sort of an effect will the bequest have on you? et quelle sorte d'effet le legs aura-t-il sur vous? Will it keep you in England, induce you to marry Miss Oliver, and settle down like an ordinary mortal?” Cela vous permettra-t-il de rester en Angleterre, d'épouser Miss Oliver et de vous installer comme un mortel ordinaire ?"

“You wander: your head becomes confused. «Vous vous promenez: votre tête devient confuse.

I have been too abrupt in communicating the news; it has excited you beyond your strength.” J'ai été trop brusque dans la communication de la nouvelle ; elle vous a excité au-delà de vos forces."

“Mr.

Rivers! you quite put me out of patience: I am rational enough; it is you who misunderstand, or rather who affect to misunderstand.”

“Perhaps, if you explained yourself a little more fully, I should comprehend better.”

“Explain!

What is there to explain? You cannot fail to see that twenty thousand pounds, the sum in question, divided equally between the nephew and three nieces of our uncle, will give five thousand to each? Vous ne pouvez manquer de voir que vingt mille livres, la somme en question, répartie également entre le neveu et les trois nièces de notre oncle, en donnera cinq mille à chacune? What I want is, that you should write to your sisters and tell them of the fortune that has accrued to them.” Ce que je veux, c'est que vous écriviez à vos sœurs et que vous leur parliez de la fortune qui leur est échue".

“To you, you mean.”

“I have intimated my view of the case: I am incapable of taking any other. «J'ai laissé entendre ma vision de l'affaire: je suis incapable d'en accepter une autre.

I am not brutally selfish, blindly unjust, or fiendishly ungrateful. Je ne suis pas brutalement égoïste, aveuglément injuste ou diaboliquement ingrat. Besides, I am resolved I will have a home and connections. De plus, je suis résolu à avoir une maison et des connexions. I like Moor House, and I will live at Moor House; I like Diana and Mary, and I will attach myself for life to Diana and Mary. J'aime Moor House, et je vivrai à Moor House ; j'aime Diana et Mary, et je m'attacherai pour la vie à Diana et Mary. It would please and benefit me to have five thousand pounds; it would torment and oppress me to have twenty thousand; which, moreover, could never be mine in justice, though it might in law. Il me plairait et me profiterait d'avoir cinq mille livres; cela me tourmenterait et m'oppresserait d'en avoir vingt mille; qui, d'ailleurs, ne pourrait jamais être à moi en justice, bien qu'il le puisse en droit. I abandon to you, then, what is absolutely superfluous to me. Let there be no opposition, and no discussion about it; let us agree amongst each other, and decide the point at once.” Qu'il n'y ait ni opposition, ni discussion à ce sujet; convenons-nous les uns des autres et décidons immédiatement du point.

“This is acting on first impulses; you must take days to consider such a matter, ere your word can be regarded as valid.” «Ceci agit sur les premières impulsions; vous devez prendre des jours pour examiner une telle question, avant que votre parole puisse être considérée comme valable.

“Oh!

if all you doubt is my sincerity, I am easy: you see the justice of the case?” si vous ne doutez que de ma sincérité, je suis facile: voyez-vous la justice de l'affaire?

“I do see a certain justice; but it is contrary to all custom. «Je vois une certaine justice; mais c'est contraire à toute coutume.

Besides, the entire fortune is your right: my uncle gained it by his own efforts; he was free to leave it to whom he would: he left it to you. D'ailleurs, toute la fortune vous revient : mon oncle l'a gagnée par ses propres efforts ; il était libre de la laisser à qui il voulait : c'est à vous qu'il l'a laissée. After all, justice permits you to keep it: you may, with a clear conscience, consider it absolutely your own.” Après tout, la justice vous permet de le garder : vous pouvez, en toute bonne conscience, le considérer comme absolument vôtre".

“With me,” said I, “it is fully as much a matter of feeling as of conscience: I must indulge my feelings; I so seldom have had an opportunity of doing so. «Avec moi, dis-je, c'est pleinement autant une question de sentiment que de conscience: je dois me livrer à mes sentiments; J'ai rarement eu l'occasion de le faire.

Were you to argue, object, and annoy me for a year, I could not forego the delicious pleasure of which I have caught a glimpse—that of repaying, in part, a mighty obligation, and winning to myself lifelong friends.” Si vous me disputiez, m'objectiez et m'ennuyiez pendant un an, je ne pourrais pas renoncer au délicieux plaisir dont j'ai entrevu - celui de rembourser, en partie, une lourde obligation, et de me gagner des amis de toujours.

“You think so now,” rejoined St. "C'est ce que vous pensez maintenant", a répondu St.

John, “because you do not know what it is to possess, nor consequently to enjoy wealth: you cannot form a notion of the importance twenty thousand pounds would give you; of the place it would enable you to take in society; of the prospects it would open to you: you cannot—” Jean, «parce que vous ne savez pas ce que c'est posséder, ni par conséquent jouir de la richesse: vous ne pouvez pas vous faire une idée de l'importance que vingt mille livres vous donneraient; de la place qu'il vous permettrait de prendre dans la société; des perspectives qu’elle vous ouvrirait: vous ne pouvez pas… »

“And you,” I interrupted, “cannot at all imagine the craving I have for fraternal and sisterly love. «Et vous,» j'ai interrompu, «ne pouvez pas du tout imaginer le désir que j'ai pour l'amour fraternel et fraternel.

I never had a home, I never had brothers or sisters; I must and will have them now: you are not reluctant to admit me and own me, are you?” I never had a home, I never had brothers or sisters; I must and will have them now: you are not reluctant to admit me and own me, are you?” Je n'ai jamais eu de maison, je n'ai jamais eu de frères ou de sœurs; Je dois les avoir et je les aurai maintenant: vous n’êtes pas réticent à me reconnaître et à me posséder, n’est-ce pas?

“Jane, I will be your brother—my sisters will be your sisters—without stipulating for this sacrifice of your just rights.” "Jane, je serai ton frère - mes sœurs seront tes sœurs - sans stipuler ce sacrifice de tes justes droits."

“Brother?

Yes; at the distance of a thousand leagues! Oui; à mille lieues! Sisters? Yes; slaving amongst strangers! I, wealthy—gorged with gold I never earned and do not merit! Moi, riche - gorgé d'or que je n'ai jamais gagné et que je ne mérite pas! You, penniless! Famous equality and fraternisation! Égalité et fraternisation célèbres! Close union! Intimate attachment!”

“But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic happiness may be realised otherwise than by the means you contemplate: you may marry.” “But, Jane, your aspirations after family ties and domestic happiness may be realised otherwise than by the means you contemplate: you may marry.” «Mais, Jane, vos aspirations après les liens familiaux et le bonheur domestique peuvent se réaliser autrement que par les moyens que vous envisagez: vous pouvez vous marier.

“Nonsense, again!

Marry! I don't want to marry, and never shall marry.” Je ne veux pas me marier et ne me marierai jamais." “That is saying too much: such hazardous affirmations are a proof of the excitement under which you labour.” “That is saying too much: such hazardous affirmations are a proof of the excitement under which you labour.” «C'est trop dire: ces affirmations hasardeuses sont une preuve de l'excitation sous laquelle vous travaillez.

“It is not saying too much: I know what I feel, and how averse are my inclinations to the bare thought of marriage. “It is not saying too much: I know what I feel, and how averse are my inclinations to the bare thought of marriage. "Ce n'est pas trop dire : Je sais ce que je ressens, et combien mes inclinations sont opposées à la simple pensée du mariage.

No one would take me for love; and I will not be regarded in the light of a mere money speculation. No one would take me for love; and I will not be regarded in the light of a mere money speculation. Personne ne me prendrait pour l'amour; et je ne serai pas considéré à la lumière d'une simple spéculation monétaire. And I do not want a stranger—unsympathising, alien, different from me; I want my kindred: those with whom I have full fellow-feeling. And I do not want a stranger—unsympathising, alien, different from me; I want my kindred: those with whom I have full fellow-feeling. Et je ne veux pas d'un étranger - insensible, étranger, différent de moi ; je veux mes semblables : ceux avec qui je me sens pleinement en harmonie. Say again you will be my brother: when you uttered the words I was satisfied, happy; repeat them, if you can, repeat them sincerely.” Say again you will be my brother: when you uttered the words I was satisfied, happy; repeat them, if you can, repeat them sincerely.”

“I think I can.

I know I have always loved my own sisters; and I know on what my affection for them is grounded,—respect for their worth and admiration of their talents. Je sais que j'ai toujours aimé mes propres sœurs; et je sais sur quoi repose mon affection pour eux, le respect de leur valeur et l'admiration de leurs talents. You too have principle and mind: your tastes and habits resemble Diana's and Mary's; your presence is always agreeable to me; in your conversation I have already for some time found a salutary solace. You too have principle and mind: your tastes and habits resemble Diana's and Mary's; your presence is always agreeable to me; in your conversation I have already for some time found a salutary solace. Vous aussi, vous avez des principes et un esprit: vos goûts et vos habitudes ressemblent à ceux de Diana et de Mary; ta présence m'est toujours agréable; dans votre conversation, j'ai déjà trouvé depuis quelque temps un réconfort salutaire. I feel I can easily and naturally make room in my heart for you, as my third and youngest sister.” I feel I can easily and naturally make room in my heart for you, as my third and youngest sister.” Je sens que je peux facilement et naturellement faire de la place dans mon cœur pour toi, en tant que ma troisième et plus jeune sœur."

“Thank you: that contents me for to-night.

Now you had better go; for if you stay longer, you will perhaps irritate me afresh by some mistrustful scruple.” Now you had better go; for if you stay longer, you will perhaps irritate me afresh by some mistrustful scruple.” Maintenant tu ferais mieux d'y aller; car si vous restez plus longtemps, peut-être vous m'irriterez de nouveau par quelque scrupule méfiant.

“And the school, Miss Eyre?

It must now be shut up, I suppose?”

“No.

I will retain my post of mistress till you get a substitute.” Je conserverai mon poste de maîtresse jusqu'à ce que vous trouviez un remplaçant."

He smiled approbation: we shook hands, and he took leave. Il sourit d'approbation: nous nous sommes serrés la main et il a pris congé.

I need not narrate in detail the further struggles I had, and arguments I used, to get matters regarding the legacy settled as I wished. Je n'ai pas besoin de raconter en détail les autres luttes que j'ai eues et les arguments que j'ai utilisés pour régler les questions concernant l'héritage comme je le souhaitais.

My task was a very hard one; but, as I was absolutely resolved—as my cousins saw at length that my mind was really and immutably fixed on making a just division of the property—as they must in their own hearts have felt the equity of the intention; and must, besides, have been innately conscious that in my place they would have done precisely what I wished to do—they yielded at length so far as to consent to put the affair to arbitration. Ma tâche était très difficile; mais, comme j'étais absolument résolu - comme mes cousins ont vu longuement que mon esprit était vraiment et immuablement fixé à faire un juste partage de la propriété - comme ils ont dû sentir dans leur propre cœur l'équité de l'intention; et doivent, en outre, avoir été naturellement conscients qu'à ma place ils auraient fait exactement ce que je voulais faire - ils ont longuement cédé jusqu'à consentir à soumettre l'affaire à l'arbitrage. The judges chosen were Mr. Oliver and an able lawyer: both coincided in my opinion: I carried my point. Les juges choisis étaient M. Oliver et un avocat compétent: les deux coïncidaient à mon avis: j'ai fait valoir mon point. The instruments of transfer were drawn out: St. Les instruments de transfert ont été tirés: St. John, Diana, Mary, and I, each became possessed of a competency. John, Diana, Mary et moi avons chacun acquis une compétence.