CHAPTER XXVI 371
" You know this place, Mason," said our guide; " she bit and stabbed you here."
He lifted the hangings from the wall, uncovering the second door: this, too, he opened. In a room without a window, there burnt a fire guarded by a high and strong fender, and a lamp suspended from the ceiling by a chain. Grace Poole bent over the fire, apparently cooking something in a saucepan. In the deep shade, at the farther end of the room, a figure ran backwards and forwards. What it was, whether beast or human being, one could not, at first sight, tell: it grovelled, seemingly, on all fours; it snatched and growled like some strange wild animal: but it was covered with clothing, and a quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.
" Good-morrow, Mrs. Poole!" said Mr. Rochester. " How are you? and how is your charge to-day?"
" We ' re tolerable, sir, I thank you," replied Grace, lifting the boiling mess carefully on to the hob: " rather snappish, but not ' rageous."
A fierce cry seemed to give the lie to her favourable report: the clothed hyena rose up, and stood tall on its hind-feet.
" Ah! sir, she sees you!" exclaimed Grace: " you ' d better not stay." " Only a few moments, Grace: you must allow me a few moments." " Take care then, sir!-- for God ' s sake, take care!"
The maniac bellowed: she parted her shaggy locks from her visage, and gazed wildly at her visitors. I recognised well that purple face,-- those bloated features. Mrs. Poole advanced.
" Keep out of the way," said Mr. Rochester, thrusting her aside: " she has no knife now, I suppose, and I ' m on my guard."