The Next Morning
Mr. Bates was wondering at the strangeness of his neighbor's past as he mounted his horse. He wondered how it would end. He seemed perfectly happy now. Surely, anyone with such a caring wife should feel happy. Mrs. Rochester was still more peculiar than her husband. She looked as if her age had added a lot of wisdom to her although she was still young. Her skin was rather too fair and she was quite small and obviously too young for her husband. At those few times that he had been there, he had seen how she stuck by her husband's side and he, too, took such pleasure by her presence that would become rather grim if she left for a few minutes.
He wondered who this lady had been and how did they meet. She couldn't possibly be the former governess, no; she didn't really look like one. In addition, after what the inn keeper had told him, that she had left, surely no women would come back. While thinking he felt pang of guilt at discovering their past without their consent but he shook the idea off.
He hadn't liked the other neighbors as much as he did the Rochesters. Mrs. Rochester was an amiable, kind lady and her husband was astute and adept although his face was rather ruined for a reason that Mr. Bates yet didn't know, his conversation was enjoyable to him. And still more he had liked their son, the 6-year-old Matthew, and Miss Varens as well.
But what he had heard was so unlikely and strange, he was rather eager to hear the rest of it. Only if he needn't be home! But his sister would have been worried. Caroline Bates was sick on that day and hadn't accompanied Mr. Bates to Thornfield much to Adele's and Mrs. Rochester's disappointment who had liked the young lady.
He wasn't sure if he should tell Caroline what he had learnt. He was somehow sure that she wouldn't approve of his knowing the things he was not supposed to know. 'She doesn't need to know.' He thought. 'But what excuse should I give her for being late?' He thought on this for some time and decided that he doesn't need to give full account of whatever he does to his younger sister!
He found her in the library.
"What, you're up yet?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"Do you feel better?"
"Thanks to my dear brother no!" She said sarcastically "Do you think nothing of my poor nerves? Why were you so late? Where have you been?"
There she goes again, he thought. "Should you really know?"
"No if you don't want to tell me." She said, obviously hurt. She then got up bid him goodnight and went to her chamber.
He woke up with the sound of the singing birds in the nearby fields. He looked up at the clock on the table, next to his bed. "Oh, the good thing about today is going to Thornfield again." He said to himself as he looked into the mirror.
He was embarrassed when he discovered that he had been looking at the mirror pleased with his own face and yet he couldn't help feeling grateful for that smooth face and light brown eyes. For the dark brown locks of hair that covered his fine forehead. He had strong features, very manly but handsome at the same time. He wasn't very tall but had a fine masculine form too.
There was a knock at the door and he heard his sister's voice.
"Are you coming down for breakfast, David?"
"I'll be there in a minute." He answered.
The day was so fresh. The sky had a deep shade of light blue and here and there a small patch of white cloud adorned it. The fragrant of different spring flowers had filled the air. It was a prefect day for riding but Mr. Bates had another idea with which he planned to fill the morning.
The inn was almost empty except for two travelers who were having their breakfast at the other side of the room. It was lit by the rays of the golden sun gaining admittance from the clean windows. The old Jack saw Mr. Bates coming towards the inn and he chuckled to himself. "Is he as eager to hear their story as I am to narrate it?" he said to himself, smiling as he shook his head.
"You know it's not right to say all the details of Mr. Rochester's to a stranger. And they say women gossip!" his wife scolded.
He entered the inn as his wife returned to her kitchen. "Ah, Mr. Bates! So good to see you again!" "May I get you some breakfast?"
"No, Thank you I just had breakfast. Only a cup of tea if you please?"
"Of course."
When he came back Mr. Mates addressed him again.
"I depend that you know the reason for my coming here?"
"I can guess, sir." Said the innkeeper, smiling. Mr. Bated answered his smile and said
"Please, sit. Shall we continue with the rest of this charming tale? I declare I rather like hearing it."
"Of course, sir. Well as to continue:
As I said he broke off all acquaintance. Then two months after the governess had left a terrible catastrophe happened at Thornfield. The Hall was burnt to the ground. You can't imagine it. Nothing was left of it except a high shell-like wall. It turned out that Mr. Rochester's mad wife, although mad, was not ignorant. She was a cunning woman, once Grace told me when she was finally out of the secrecy's spell.
When Mrs. Poole was fast sleep due to the gin, she would use the opportunity to quit her prison. I heard that she had even enabled herself to posses a knife with which she stabbed her own brother who had come to visit from abroad to death and if it was not for Mr. Rochester poor Mr. Mason would have been dead by now.
It seemed that she had suspected something concerning Miss Eyre and her husband for she had made her way to her deserted room and had started the fire there. I believe that she somewhat liked messing around with fire for as you may guess she had something to do with her husband being almost burnt in his bed."
"You say Thornfield was burnt to the ground" Mr. Bates said confounded. "But I've been there many times and ….."
"Yes, I'm coming to that but now hear the rest of it. Mr. Rochester got all the servants out of their beds and helped them out and afterwards went upstairs to get his wife. But she was standing on the battlements and as he approached her, she jumped off the wall.
It was frightful. We saw it from here. And then the whole house fell with poor Mr. Edward in it."
"So that's where he got his deficiencies from! I always wondered." said the astonished man. He had seen Mr. Rochester's left eye and right hand but he had never dared to ask anything. His eye had rested on his right hand for sometime by mistake on the occasion of their first meeting until he felt Mrs. Rochester's critical eye upon him and offered his apologies.
"Yes, an awful tragedy. He just regained the sight of his right eye about six years ago." said the old innkeeper.
"So, if Mrs. Rochester is dead, who is the lady now living with him?"
"Good God, man! You didn't think she was the mad lady, did you?"
"Oh no…no of course not. I was just wondering… "
"Mr. Rochester, as you know, is a wealthy man and has many lands. After he regained consciousness, which itself took some days, he went to live in one his other states which he had nit let due to the unsuitableness of the conditions, the Ferndean Manor. Now with his conditions he was quite broken down. I did really pity him. He was a good man of a sort if it was not for his terrible mistake.
Well months passed like that. John told me that he wouldn't see anyone. Some of his former friends called on him but he denied all visitors except the physician, Mr. Carter and his solicitor. He was ever an independent man, and I think being reliant on others for his daily work didn't suit him at all.