All at once, without speaking, John struck suddenly and strongly
“That is for your rude answer to mama, for hiding behind curtains and for the look you had in your eyes, you rat,” he said.
“What were you doing behind that curtain?”
“I was reading.”
“Show me the book.”
I gave him the book.
“You have no right to take our books. You have no money, your father left you none, you should beg, and not live with us. Now, I’ll teach you a lesson. Go and stand by the door.”
I did so, then waited, flinching. He hurled the heavy book at me. It hit me and I fell, striking my head against the door and cutting it. The cut bled, the pain was sharp: suddenly my terror was gone, and I was full of anger.
“Wicked and cruel boy! You are like a murderer!”
“Did she say that to me? Did you hear her, Eliza and Georgiana? Won’t I tell mama? but first—“
He grasped my hair and my shoulder. I don’t very well know what I did with my hands, but he called me ‘Rat! Rat!’, Eliza, and Georgiana ran for Mrs. Reed.
We were parted, and Mrs. Reed was standing over me.
“Dear, dear,” said Abbott, shaking her head. “What a fury, to fly at master John!”
“Take her away to the red-room,” said Mrs. Reed, “and lock her in there.”
The red-room was the biggest bedroom in Gateshead Hall, with a red carpet, red damask drapery, red velvet curtains, and a dark mahogany bed in it. Nobody slept there. Nobody wanted to. It was here, nine years before, in that very bed that Mr. Reed had died. Ever since I had often heard the servants whispering that it was haunted.
I resisted all the way. Bessie and Abbott had to force me through the door. I only stopped struggling when they threatened to tie me to a chair.
“What shocking conduct, Miss Eyre, to strike a young gentleman! Your young master.”
“Master! How is he my master? Am I a servant?”
“No; you are less than a servant, for you do nothing for your keep,” said Miss Abbot.
“Miss Eyre, you should be grateful to Mrs. Reed for keeping you,” said Bessie, in a kinder voice. “If you don’t behave, she might send you away[3], and then where would you be?”
“You’d better say your prayers, Miss, and ask for forgiveness,” said Abbott.
They left and locked the door behind them.
Left alone, holding furiously onto the chair I had been pushed into, I turned the afternoon’s events over and over in my mind