CHAPTER XIX 255
" No ; stay a moment ; and tell me what the people in the drawing-room yonder are doing ."
" Discussing the gipsy , I daresay ." " Sit down ! -- Let me hear what they said about me ."
" I had better not stay long , sir ; it must be near eleven o ' clock . Oh , are you aware , Mr . Rochester , that a stranger has arrived here since you left this morning ?"
" A stranger ! -- no ; who can it be ? I expected no one ; is he gone ?"
" No ; he said he had known you long , and that he could take the liberty of installing himself here till you returned ."
" The devil he did ! Did he give his name ?"
" His name is Mason , sir ; and he comes from the West Indies ; from Spanish Town , in Jamaica , I think ."
Mr . Rochester was standing near me ; he had taken my hand , as if to lead me to a chair . As I spoke he gave my wrist a convulsive grip ; the smile on his lips froze : apparently a spasm caught his breath .
" Mason ! -- the West Indies !" he said , in the tone one might fancy a speaking automaton to enounce its single words ; " Mason ! -- the West Indies !" he reiterated ; and he went over the syllables three times , growing , in the intervals of speaking , whiter than ashes : he hardly seemed to know what he was doing .
" Do you feel ill , sir ?" I inquired . " Jane , I ' ve got a blow ; I ' ve got a blow , Jane !" He staggered . " Oh , lean on me , sir ."