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encourage inquiry。
October； November； December passed away。 One afternoon in
January； Mrs。 Fairfax had begged a holiday for Adele； because she
had a cold； and； as Adele seconded the request with an ardour that
reminded me how precious occasional holidays had been to me in my
own childhood； I accorded it； deeming that I did well in showing
pliability on the point。 It was a fine； calm day； though very cold；
I was tired of sitting still in the library through a whole long
morning： Mrs。 Fairfax had just written a letter which was waiting to
be posted； so I put on my bonnet and cloak and volunteered to carry it
to Hay； the distance； two miles； would be a pleasant winter
afternoon walk。 Having seen Adele comfortably seated in her little
chair by Mrs。 Fairfax's parlour fireside； and given her her best wax
doll （which I usually kept enveloped in silver paper in a drawer） to
play with； and a story…book for a change of amusement； and having
replied to her 'Revenez bientot； ma bonne amie； ma chere Mdlle。
Jeannette；' with a kiss I set out。
The ground was hard； the air was still； my road was lonely； I
walked fast till I got warm； and then I walked slowly to enjoy and
analyse the species of pleasure brooding for me in the hour and
situation。 It was three o'clock； the church bell tolled as I passed
under the belfry： the charm of the hour lay in its approaching
dimness； in the low…gliding and pale…beaming sun。 I was a mile from
Thornfield； in a lane noted for wild roses in summer； for nuts and
blackberries in autumn； and even now possessing a few coral
treasures in hips and haws； but whose best winter delight lay in its
utter solitude and leafless repose。 If a breath of air stirred； it
made no sound here； for there was not a holly； not an evergreen to
rustle； and the stripped hawthorn and hazel bushes were as still as
the white； worn stones which causewayed the middle of the path。 Far
and wide； on each side； there were only fields； where no cattle now
browsed； and the little brown birds； which stirred occasionally in the
hedge； looked like single russet leaves that had forgotten to drop。
This lane inclined up…hill all the way to Hay； having reached the
middle； I sat down on a stile which led thence into a field。 Gathering
my mantle about me； and sheltering my hands in my muff； I did not feel
the cold； though it froze keenly； as was attested by a sheet of ice
covering the causeway； where a little brooklet； now congealed； had
overflowed after a rapid thaw some days since。 From my seat I could
look down on Thornfield： the grey and battlemented hall was the
principal object in the vale below me； its woods and dark rookery rose
against the； west。 I lingered till the sun went down amongst the
trees； and sank crimson and clear behind them。 I then turned eastward。
On the hill…top above me sat the rising moon； pale yet as a
cloud； but brightening momentarily； she looked over Hay； which； half
lost in trees； sent up a blue smoke from its few chimneys： it was
yet a mile distant； but in the absolute hush I could hear plainly
its thin murmurs of life。 My ear； too； felt the flow of currents； in
what dales and depths I could not tell： but there were many hills
beyond Hay； and doubtless many becks threading their passes。 That
evening calm betrayed alike the tinkle of the nearest streams； the
sough of the most remote。
A rude noise broke on these fine ripplings and whisperings； at once
so far away and so clear： a positive tramp； tramp； a metallic clatter；
which effaced the soft wave…wanderings； as； in a picture； the solid
mass of a crag； or the rough boles of a great oak； drawn in dark and
strong on the foreground； efface the aerial distance of azure hill；
sunny horizon； and blended clouds where tint melts into tint。
The din was on the causeway： a horse was coming； the windings of
the lane yet hid it； but it approached。 I was just leaving the
stile； yet； as the path was narrow； I sat still to let it go by。 In
those days I was young； and all sorts of fancies bright and dark
tenanted my mind： the memories of nursery stories were there amongst
other rubbish； and when they recurred； maturing youth added to them
a vigour and vividness beyond what childhood could give。 As this horse
approached； and as I watched for it to appear through the dusk； I
remembered certain of Bessie's tales； wherein figured a
North…of…England spirit called a 'Gytrash；' which； in the form of
horse； mule； or large dog； haunted solitary ways； and sometimes came
upon belated travellers； as this horse was now coming upon me。
It was very near； but not yet in sight； when； in addition to the
tramp； tramp； I heard a rush under the hedge； and close down by the
hazel stems glided a great dog； whose black and white colour made
him a distinct object against the trees。 It was exactly one form of
Bessie's Gytrash… a lion…like creature with long hair and a huge head：
it passed me； however； quietly enough； not staying to look up； with
strange pretercanine eyes； in my face； as I half expected it would。
The horse followed；… a tall steed； and on its back a rider。 The man；
the human being； broke the spell at once。 Nothing ever rode the
Gytrash： it was always alone； and goblins； to my notions； though
they might tenant the dumb carcasses of beasts； could scarce covet
shelter in the commonplace human form。 No Gytrash was this；… only a
traveller taking the short cut to Millcote。 He passed； and I went
on； a few steps； and I turned： a sliding sound and an exclamation of
'What the deuce is to do now？' and a clattering tumble； arrested my
attention。 Man and horse were down； they had slipped on the sheet of
ice which glazed the causeway。 The dog came bounding back； and
seeing his master in a predicament； and hearing the horse groan；
barked till the evening hills echoed the sound； which was deep in
proportion to his magnitude。 He snuffed round the prostrate group； and
then he ran up to me； it was all he could do；… there was no other help
at hand to summon。 I obeyed him； and walked down to the traveller；
by this time struggling himself free of his steed。 His efforts were so
vigorous； I thought he could not be much hurt； but I asked him the
question…
'Are you injured； sir？'
I think he was swearing； but am not certain； however； he was
pronouncing some formula which prevented him from replying to me
directly。
'Can I do anything？' I asked again。
'You must just stand on one side；' he answered as he rose； first to
his knees； and then to his feet。 I did； whereupon began a heaving；
stamping； clattering process； accompanied by a barking and baying
which removed me effectually some yards' distance； but I would not
be driven quite away till I saw the event。 This was finally fortunate；
the horse was re…established； and the dog was silenced with a 'Down；
Pilot！' The traveller now； stooping； felt his foot and leg； as if
trying whether they were sound； apparently something ailed them； for
he halted to the stile whence I had just risen； and sat down。
I was in the mood for being useful； or at least officious； I think；
for I now drew near him again。
'If you are hurt； and want help； sir； I can fetch some one either
from Thornfield Hall or from Hay。'
'Thank you： I shall do： I have no broken bones；… only a sprain；'
and again he stood up and tried his foot； but the result extorted an
involuntary 'Ugh！'
Something of daylight still lingered； and the moon was waxing
bright： I could see him plainly。 His figure was enveloped in a
riding cloak； fur collared and steel clasped； its details were not
apparent； but I traced the general points of middle height and
considerable breadth of chest。 He had a dark face； with stern features
and a heavy brow； his eyes and gathered eyebrows looked ireful and
thwarted just now； he was past youth； but had not reached
middle…age； perhaps he might be thirty…five。 I felt no fear of him；
and but little shyness。 Had he been a handsome； heroic…looking young
gentleman； I should not have dared to stand thus questioning him
against his will； and offering my services unasked。 I had hardly
ever seen a handsome youth； never in my life spoken to one。 I had a
theoretical reverence and homage for beauty； elegance； gallantry；
fascination； but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine
shape； I should have known instinctively that they neither had nor
could have sympathy with anything in me； and should have shunned
them as one would fire； lightning； or anything else that is bright but
antipathetic。
If even this stranger had smiled and been good…humoured to me
when I addressed him； if he had put off my offer of assistance gaily
and with thanks； I should have gone on my way and not felt any
vocation to renew inquiries： but the frown； the roughness of the
traveller； set me at my ease： I retained my station when he waved to
me to go； and announced…
'I cannot think of leaving you； sir； at so late an hour； in this
solitary lane； till I see you are fit to mount your horse。'
He looked at me when I said this； he had