Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 06
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Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 06
Literature -- Collections
Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word, with deep but low
intonation. Presently Mr. Wood said, "I cannot proceed without some
investigation into what has been asserted, and evidence of its truth or
falsehood."
"The ceremony is quite broken off," subjoined the voice behind us. "I am
in a condition to prove my allegation; an insuperable impediment to this
marriage exists."
Mr. Rochester heard, but heeded not; he stood stubborn and rigid; making
no movement but to possess himself of my hand. What a hot and strong
grasp he had!--and how like quarried marble was his pale, firm, massive
front at this moment! How his eye shone, still, watchful, and yet
wild beneath!
Mr. Wood seemed at a loss. "What is the nature of the impediment?" he
asked. "Perhaps it may be got over--explained away?"
"Hardly," was the answer: "I have called it insuperable, and I speak
advisedly."
The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails. He continued, uttering
each word distinctly, calmly, steadily, but not loudly.
"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage. Mr.
Rochester has a wife now living."
My nerves vibrated to those low-spoken words as they had never vibrated
to thunder; my blood felt their subtle violence as it had never felt
frost or fire; but I was collected, and in no danger of swooning. I
looked at Mr. Rochester; I made him look at me. His whole face was
colorless rock; his eye was both spark and flint. He disavowed nothing;
he seemed as if he would defy all things. Without speaking, without
smiling, without seeming to recognize in me a human being, he only
twined my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side.
"Who are you?" he asked of the intruder.
"My name is Briggs, a solicitor of ---- Street, London."
"And you would thrust on me a wife?"
"I would remind you of your lady's existence, sir, which the law
recognizes if you do not."
"Favor me with an account of her--with her name, her parentage, her
place of abode."
"Certainly." Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from his pocket, and read
out in a sort of official, nasal voice:--
"I affirm and can prove that on the 20th of October, A.D.--" (a date of
fifteen years back), "Edward Fairfax Rochester, of Thornfield Hall, in
the county of ----, and of Ferndean Manor, in ---- shire, England, was
married to my sister, Bertha Antoinetta Mason, daughter of Jonas Mason,
merchant, and of Antoinetta his wife, a Creole, at ---- church, Spanish
Town, Jamaica. The record of the marriage will be found in the register
of that church--a copy of it is now in my possession. Signed,
Richard Mason."
"That, if a genuine document, may prove I have been married, but it does
not prove that the woman mentioned therein as my wife is still living."
"She was living three months ago," returned the lawyer.
"How do you know?"
"I have a witness to the fact whose testimony even you, sir, will
scarcely controvert."
"Produce him--or go to hell!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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