Сборник лучших произведений английской классической литературы. Уровень 3

In a panic I got up, ran up to the door and drew the bolt across. Trembling, I repeated: “Who is there?”

There was a murmur followed by footsteps moving along the hall and up the attic stairs. “Was that Grace Poole? Is she possessed with a devil?” Had she started wandering the house by night? I decided to wake Mrs. Fairfax, to tell her about the laugh and steps.

Still shaking all over with fear[24 - still shaking all over with fear – все еще дрожа от страха], I put on a dress and a shawl, and unbolted my door.

There was a candle burning just outside. I was also amazed to find the air quite dim, as if filled with smoke. Then I was more aware of the strong smell of burning.

As I soon saw, the smoke was coming from Mr. Rochester's room. The door was ajar, and I ran in. I thought no more of Mrs. Fairfax. I thought no more of Grace Poole.

Through the smoke I saw flames on the curtains of the bed, and Mr. Rochester lying motionless, in deep sleep.

“Wake up!” I shook him, but he only murmured and turned- the smoke had dulled his senses.

I rushed to his basin, where I found a water jug as well. Both were full of water and I lifted them up in turn, carried them over to the bed and drenched the curtains and blankets. I flew back to my own room, brought my own water jug and extinguished the fire.

The hiss of the dying fire and the splash of water woke Mr. Rochester at last.

“Is there a flood?” he cried.

“No, sir,' I answered, 'but there has been a fire.

Get up. You are wet now. I will fetch you a candle.”

“Is that Jane Eyre?” he demanded. “What have you done with me, witch? Have you plotted to drown me?”

I fetched the candle from outside my door. When I returned, Mr. Rochester was wearing his dressing gown. He took the candle from me and inspected the blackened wet bed.

“What happened?” he asked. “Who did this?”

I told him everything-how I had heard the murmur and the strange laugh, which I knew from before, and footsteps going up to the attic, and how the candle had been left outside my room.

“Should I fetch Mrs. Fairfax?” I asked.

“No-no, don't fetch anyone,” he said. “Stay here in this chair, and wait for me. I am going upstairs for a minute, and I will be back soon. Don't move.”

I waited there in the darkness for what seemed like hours. Soon he came back, looking gloomy.

“I have sorted it all out,” he said. He stared at me.