>MR ROCHESTER’S PAST
>Soon I discovered what Mr. Rochester meant when he said he had done wrong. One afternoon, while walking in the gardens of Thornfield, he told me the story of his love-affair in Paris with a French dancer, Céline.
>‘Yes, Miss Eyre, I was young and foolish then. I was so in love with her that I rented a house and hired servants for her. I gave her carriage and jewel, in fact I threw away a fortune on her, just like any fool in love. One evening I visited her but found she was out, so I waited on her balcony, smoking a cigar. I heard her carriage arriving. Imagine my horror at seeing her step out followed by a man! You’re so young, you’ve never felt love or jealousy, have you, Miss Eyre? You are floating along a quiet river now, you don’t see the water boiling at the foot of the great rocks, but one day you’ll come to a point it life’s stream where the wild force of the waves may destroy you, where the noisy rushing water may drown you! I am calm enough now, calm enough to like living here at Thornfield. I like it because it’s old, and grey, and dark, and yet I hate. He did not finish what he was saying, staring angrily up at the windows on the top floor of his house. It was a look of disgust, pain and shame. I could not understand what he meant, and wanted to her more about Céline, so I encouraged him to finish the story.
>‘What happened when she entered the house, sir?’
>‘Oh, I’d forgotten Céline! By the way, it’s strange my telling you all this, but I know my secret’s safe with you, and I know, too, that it can’t have an evil influence on you-your mind’s too strong for that. Yes, I listened to her conversation with her lover, an elegant young fool, and I knew I was no longer in love with her. So I walked into the room, told her our relationship was over, and challenged her lover to fight me. Next day I shot him in the arm during our fight, thought that was the end of the whole thing, and left France. But a few months before, Céline had had a baby girl, Adèle, and she claimed that Adèle was my child. She may be although I doubt it. So when, a few years later, Céline abandoned Adèle and ran away to Italy with a singer, I went to Paris and brought Adèle back to grow up in England.’
>I felt proud that Mr. Rochester had trusted me with the story of his part life. I thought a lot about his character, and although I was aware of his faults, I also saw his goodness and kindness to me. From now on, my happiest moments were spent with him. I could not have imagined a better companion.
>One night I was woken by a slight noise. I felt sure someone was outside my bedroom door. As I hurried to lock it, I called, ‘Who’s there?’ There was s strange, inhuman sound, then I heard a door shut upstairs on the top floor. ‘Was that Grace Poole?’ I wondered, trembling. My curiosity made me open the door, and I found the corridor full of smoke. I saw it was coming from Mr. Rochester’s door, which was slight open. I completely forgot my fears and rushed into his room. He lay fast asleep, surrounded by flames and smoke. Even his sheets were on fire.
>‘Wake up! Wake up!’ I shouted desperately, throwing water over him to put out the flames. Not until the fire was almost out did he wake up, swearing to find himself so wet.
>‘Is there a flood?’ he cried.
>‘No, sir,’ I answered, ‘but there’s been a fire’
>‘Jane Eyre, is it you and your magic?’ he asked. ‘Have you put a spell on me again? Did you intend to drown me this time?’
>‘Please get up, sir. Someone has plotted to kill you!’ and I explained what I had heard and how I had put out the fire. He looked very serious, and thought for a few seconds.
>‘Shall I fetch Mrs. Fairfax, sir, or the servant?’ I asked.