Shirley - Charlotte Brontë (primary phonics .txt) 📗

near the end not to drive home to it. All the encumbrance of doubt, all the rubbish of indecision, must be removed at once, and the plain truth must be ascertained. She must take her part, and tell me what it was; I must take mine and adhere to it.

“ ‘A minute, madam,’ I said, keeping my hand on the door-handle before I opened it. ‘We have had a long conversation this morning, but the last word has not been spoken yet. It is yours to speak it.’

“ ‘May I pass?’

“ ‘No; I guard the door. I would almost rather die than let you leave me just now, without speaking the word I demand.’

“ ‘What dare you expect me to say?’

“ ‘What I am dying and perishing to hear; what I must and will hear; what you dare not now suppress.’

“ ‘Mr. Moore, I hardly know what you mean. You are not like yourself.’

“I suppose I hardly was like my usual self, for I scared her⁠—that I could see. It was right: she must be scared to be won.

“ ‘You do know what I mean, and for the first time I stand before you myself. I have flung off the tutor, and beg to introduce you to the man. And remember, he is a gentleman.’

“She trembled. She put her hand to mine as if to remove it from the lock. She might as well have tried to loosen, by her soft touch, metal welded to metal. She felt she was powerless, and receded; and again she trembled.

“What change I underwent I cannot explain, but out of her emotion passed into me a new spirit. I neither was crushed nor elated by her lands and gold; I thought not of them, cared not for them. They were nothing⁠—dross that could not dismay me. I saw only herself⁠—her young beautiful form, the grace, the majesty, the modesty of her girlhood.

“ ‘My pupil,’ I said.

“ ‘My master,’ was the low answer.

“ ‘I have a thing to tell you.’

“She waited with declined brow and ringlets drooped.

“ ‘I have to tell you that for four years you have been growing into your tutor’s heart, and that you are rooted there now. I have to declare that you have bewitched me, in spite of sense, and experience, and difference of station and estate. You have so looked, and spoken, and moved; so shown me your faults and your virtues⁠—beauties rather, they are hardly so stern as virtues⁠—that I love you⁠—love you with my life and strength. It is out now.’

“She sought what to say, but could not find a word. She tried to rally, but vainly. I passionately repeated that I loved her.

“ ‘Well, Mr. Moore, what then?’ was the answer I got, uttered in a tone that would have been petulant if it had not faltered.

“ ‘Have you nothing to say to me? Have you no love for me?’

“ ‘A little bit.’

“ ‘I am not to be tortured. I will not even play at present.’

“ ‘I don’t want to play; I want to go.’

“ ‘I wonder you dare speak of going at this moment. You go! What! with my heart in your hand, to lay it on your toilet and pierce it with your pins? From my presence you do not stir, out of my reach you do not stray, till I receive a hostage⁠—pledge for pledge⁠—your heart for mine.’

“ ‘The thing you want is mislaid⁠—lost some time since. Let me go and seek it.’

“ ‘Declare that it is where your keys often are⁠—in my possession.’

“ ‘You ought to know. And where are my keys, Mr. Moore? Indeed and truly I have lost them again; and Mrs. Gill wants some money, and I have none, except this sixpence.’

“She took the coin out of her apron pocket, and showed it in her palm. I could have trifled with her, but it would not do; life and death were at stake. Mastering at once the sixpence and the hand that held it, I demanded, ‘Am I to die without you, or am I to live for you?’

“ ‘Do as you please. Far be it from me to dictate your choice.’

“ ‘You shall tell me with your own lips whether you doom me to exile or call me to hope.’

“ ‘Go; I can bear to be left.’

“ ‘Perhaps I too can bear to leave you. But reply, Shirley, my pupil, my sovereign⁠—reply.’

“ ‘Die without me if you will; live for me if you dare.’

“ ‘I am not afraid of you, my leopardess. I dare live for and with you, from this hour till my death. Now, then, I have you. You are mine. I will never let you go. Wherever my home be, I have chosen my wife. If I stay in England, in England you will stay; if I cross the Atlantic, you will cross it also. Our lives are riveted, our lots intertwined.’

“ ‘And are we equal, then, sir? are we equal at last?’

“ ‘You are younger, frailer, feebler, more ignorant than I.’

“ ‘Will you be good to me, and never tyrannize?’

“ ‘Will you let me breathe, and not bewilder me? You must not smile at present. The world swims and changes round me. The sun is a dizzying scarlet blaze, the sky a violet vortex whirling over me.’

“I am a strong man, but I staggered as I spoke. All creation was exaggerated. Colour grew more vivid, motion more rapid, life itself more vital. I hardly saw her for a moment, but I heard her voice⁠—pitilessly sweet. She would not subdue one of her charms in compassion. Perhaps she did not know what I felt.

“ ‘You name me leopardess. Remember, the leopardess is tameless,’ said she.

“ ‘Tame or fierce, wild or subdued, you are mine.’

“ ‘I am glad I know my keeper and am used to him. Only his voice will I follow; only his hand shall manage me; only at his feet will I repose.’

“I took her back to her seat, and sat down by her side. I wanted to hear her speak again. I could never have enough of her voice and her words.

“ ‘How much do you love me?’ I asked.

“ ‘Ah! you know. I will not gratify you⁠—I will not flatter.’

“ ‘I