d not only the pride of his life, but the desire of
his eyes," and then telling me he would give me but ten minutes to eat
some breakfast, he rang the bell. One of his lately hired servants, a
footman, answered it.

"Is John getting the carriage ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is the luggage brought down?"

"They are bringing it down, sir."

"Go you to the church: see if Mr. Wood (the clergyman) and the clerk are
there: return and tell me."

The church, as the reader knows, was but just beyond the gates; the
footman soon returned.

"Mr. Wood is in the vestry, sir, putting on his surplice."

"And the carriage?"

"The horses are harnessing."

"We shall not want it to go to church; but it must be ready the moment we
return: all the boxes and luggage arranged and strapped on, and the
coachman in his seat."

"Yes, sir."

"Jane, are you ready?"

I rose. There were no groomsmen, no bridesmaids, no relatives to wait
for or marshal: none but Mr. Rochester and I. Mrs. Fairfax stood in the
hall as we passed. I would fain have spoken to her, but my hand was
held by a grasp of iron: I was hurried along by a stride I could hardly
follow; and to look at Mr. Rochester's face was to feel that not a second
of delay would be tolerated for any purpose. I wonder what other
bridegroom ever looked as he did--so bent up to a purpose, so grimly
resolute: or who, under such steadfast brows, ever revealed such flaming
and flashing eyes.

I know not whether the day was fair or foul; in descending the drive, I
gazed neither on sky nor earth: my heart was with my eyes; and both
seemed migrated into Mr. Rochester's frame. I wanted to see the
invisible thing on which, as we went along, he appeared to fasten a
glance fierce and fell. I wanted to feel the thoughts whose force he
seemed breasting and resisting.

At the churchyard wicket he stopped: he discovered I was quite out of
breath. "Am I cruel in my love?" he said. "Delay an instant: lean on
me, Jane."

And now I can recall the picture of the grey old house of God rising calm
before me, of a rook wheeling round the steeple, of a ruddy morning sky
beyond. I remember something, too, of the green grave-mounds; and I have
not forgotten, either, two figures of strangers straying amongst the low
hillocks and reading the mementoes graven on the few mossy head-stones. I
noticed them, because, as they saw us, they passed round to the back of
the church; and I doubted not they were