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d him on the church…floor； shocked by ruthless blow the breath from his body—but Mason shrank away； and cried faintly； “Good God！” Contempt fell cool on Mr。 Rochester—his passion died as if a blight had shrivelled it up： he only asked—“What have you to say？”
An inaudible reply escaped Mason’s white lips。
“The devil is in it if you cannot answer distinctly。 I again demand； what have you to say？”
“Sir—sir；” interrupted the clergyman； “do not forget you are in a sacred place。” Then addressing Mason； he inquired gently； “Are you aware； sir； whether or not this gentleman’s wife is still living？”
“Courage；” urged the lawyer；—“speak out。”
“She is now living at Thornfield Hall；” said Mason； in more articulate tones： “I saw her there last April。 I am her brother。”
“At Thornfield Hall！” ejaculated the clergyman。 “Impossible！ I am an old resident in this neighbourhood； sir； and I never heard of a Mrs。 Rochester at Thornfield Hall。”
I saw a grim smile contort Mr。 Rochester’s lips； and he muttered—
“No； by God！ I took care that none should hear of it—or of her under that name。” He mused—for ten minutes he held counsel with himself： he formed his resolve； and announced it—
“Enough！ all shall bolt out at once； like the bullet from the barrel。 Wood； close your book and take off your surplice； John Green （to the clerk）； leave the church： there will be no wedding to…day。” The man obeyed。
Mr。 Rochester continued； hardily and recklessly： “Bigamy is an ugly word！—I meant； however； to be a bigamist； but fate has out… manoeuvred me； or Providence has checked me；—perhaps the last。 I am little better than a devil at this moment； and； as my pastor there would tell me； deserve no doubt the sternest judgments of God； even to the quenchless fire and deathless worm。 Gentlemen； my plan is broken up：… what this lawyer and his client say is true： I have been married； and the woman to whom I was married lives！ You say you never heard of a Mrs。 Rochester at the house up yonder； Wood； but I daresay you have many a time inclined your ear to gossip about the mysterious lunatic kept there under watch and ward。 Some have whispered to you that she is my bastard half…sister： some； my cast… off mistress。 I now inform you that she is my wife； whom I married fifteen years ago；—Bertha Mason by name； sister of this resolute personage； bs and white cheeks； showing you what a stout heart men may bear。 Cheer up； Dick！—never fear me！—I’d almost as soon strike a woman as you。 Bertha Mason is mad； and she came of a mad family； idiots and maniacs through three generations？ Her mother； the Creole； was both a madwoman and a drunkard！—as I found out after I had wed the daughter： for they were silent on family secrets before。 Bertha； like a dutiful child； copied her parent in both points。 I had a charming partner—pure； wise； modest： you can fancy I was a happy man。 I went through rich scenes！ Oh！ my experience has been heavenly； if you only knew it！ But I owe you no further explanation。 Briggs； Wood； Mason； I invite you all to e up to the house and visit Mrs。 Poole’s patient； and my wife！ You shall see what sort of a being I was cheated into espousing； and judge whether or not I had a right to break the pact； and seek sympathy with something at least human。 This girl；” he continued； looking at me； “knew no more than you； Wood； of the disgusting secret： she thought all was fair and legal and never dreamt she was going to be entrapped into a feigned union with a defrauded wretch； already bound to a bad； mad； and embruted partner！ e all of you—follow！”
Still holding me fast； he left the church： the three gentlemen came after。 At the front door of the hall we found the carriage。
“Take it back to the coach…house； John；” said Mr。 Rochester coolly； “it will not be wanted to…day。”
At our entrance； Mrs。 Fairfax； Adèle； Sophie； Leah； advanced to meet and greet us。
“To the right…about—every soul！” cried the master； “away with your congratulations！ Who wants them？ Not I！—they are fifteen years too late！”
He passed on and ascended the stairs； still holding my hand； and still beckoning the gentlemen to follow him； which they did。 We mounted the first staircase； passed up the gallery； proceeded to the third storey： the low； black door； opened by Mr。 Rochester’s master…key； admitted us to the tapestried room； with its great bed and its pictorial cabi。
“You know this place； Mason；” said our guide； “she bit and stabbed you here。”
He lifted the hangings from the wall； uncovering the second door： this； too； he opened。 In a room without a window； there burnt a fire guarded by a high and strong fender； and a lamp suspended from the ceiling by a chain。 Grace Poole bent over the fire； apparently cooking something in a saucepan。 In the deep shade； at the farther end of the room； a figure ran backwards and forwards。 What it was； whether beast or human being； one could not； at first sight； tell： it grovelled； seemingly； on all fours； it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal： but it was covered with clothing； and a quantity of dark； grizzled hair； wild as a mane； hid its head and face。
“Good…morrow； Mrs。 Poole！” said Mr。 Rochester。 “How are you？ and how is your charge to…day？”
“We’re tolerable； sir； I thank you；” replied Grace； lifting the boiling mess carefully on to the hob： “rather snappish； but not ‘rageous。”
A fierce cry seemed to give the lie to her favourable report： the clothed hyena rose up； and stood tall on its hind…feet。
“Ah！ sir； she sees you！” exclaimed Grace： “you’d better not stay。”
“Only a few moments； Grace： you must allow me a few moments。”
“Take care then； sir！—for God’s sake； take care！”
The maniac bellowed： she parted her shaggy locks from her visage； and gazed wildly at her visitors。 I recognised well that purple face；—those bloated features。 Mrs。 Poole advanced。
“Keep out of the way；” said Mr。 Rochester； thrusting her aside： “she has no knife now； I suppose； and I’m on my guard。”
“One never knows what she has； sir： she is so cunning： it is not in mortal discretion to fathom her craft。”
“We had better leave her；” whispered Mason。
“Go to the devil！” was his brother…in…law’s remendation。
“‘Ware！” cried Grace。 The three gentlemen retreated simultaneously。 Mr。 Rochester flung me behind him： the lunatic sprang and grappled his throat viciously； and laid her teeth to his cheek： they struggled。 She was a big woman； in stature almost equalling her husband； and corpulent besides： she showed virile force in the contest—more than once she almost throttled him； athletic as he was。 He could have settled her with a well…planted blow； but he would not strike： he would only wrestle。 At last he mastered her arms； Grace Poole gave him a cord； and he pinioned them behind her： with more rope； which was at hand； he bound her to a chair。 The operation was performed amidst the fiercest yells and the most convulsive plunges。 Mr。 Rochester then turned to the spectators： he looked at them with a smile both acrid and desolate。
“That is my wife；” said he。 “Such is the sole conjugal embrace I am ever to know—such are the endearments which are to solace my leisure hours！ And THIS is what I wished to have” （laying his hand on my shoulder）： “this young girl； who stands so grave and quiet at the mouth of hell； looking collectedly at the gambols of a demon； I wanted her just as a change after that fierce ragout。 Wood and Briggs； look at the difference！ pare these clear eyes with the red balls yonder—this face with that mask—this form with that bulk； then judge me； priest of the gospel and man of the law； and remember with what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged！ Off with you now。 I must shut up my prize。”
We all withdrew。 Mr。 Rochester stayed a moment behind us； to give some further order to Grace Poole。 The solicitor addressed me as he descended the stair。
“You； madam；” said he； “are cleared from all blame： your uncle will be glad to hear it—if； indeed； he should be still living—when Mr。 Mason returns to Madeira。”
“My uncle！ What of him？ Do you know him？”
“Mr。 Mason does。 Mr。 Eyre has been the Funchal correspondent of his house for some years。 When your unc