to let down my window-blind. The consequence was, that when the

moon, which was full and bright (for the night was fine), came in

her course to that space in the sky opposite my casement, and looked

in at me through the unveiled panes, her glorious gaze roused me.

Awaking in the dead of night, I opened my eyes on her disk-

silver-white and crystal clear. It was beautiful, but too solemn: I

half rose, and stretched my arm to draw the curtain.

   Good God! What a cry!

   The night- its silence- its rest, was rent in twain by a savage,

a sharp, a shrilly sound that ran from end to end of Thornfield Hall.

   My pulse stopped: my heart stood still; my stretched arm was

paralysed. The cry died, and was not renewed. Indeed, whatever being

uttered that fearful shriek could not soon repeat it: not the

widest-winged condor on the Andes could, twice in succession, send out

such a yell from the cloud shrouding his eyrie. The thing delivering

such utterance must rest ere it could repeat the effort.

   It came out of the third storey; for it passed overhead. And

overhead- yes, in the room just above my chamber-ceiling- I now

heard a struggle: a deadly one it seemed from the noise; and a

half-smothered voice shouted-

   'Help! help! help!' three times rapidly.

   'Will no one come?' it cried; and then, while the staggering and

stamping went on wildly, I distinguished through plank and plaster:-

   'Rochester! Rochester! for God's sake, come!'

   A chamber-door opened: some one ran, or rushed, along the

gallery. Another step stamped on the flooring above and something

fell; and there was silence.

   I had put on some clothes, though horror shook all my limbs; I

issued from my apartment. The sleepers were all aroused: ejaculations,

terrified murmurs sounded in every room; door after door unclosed; one

looked out and another looked out; the gallery filled. Gentlemen and

ladies alike had quitted their beds; and 'Oh! what is it?'- 'Who is

hurt?'- 'What has happened?'- 'Fetch a light!'- 'Is it fire?'- 'Are

there robbers?'- 'Where shall we run?' was demanded confusedly on

all hands. But for the moon-light they would have been in complete

darkness. They ran to and fro; they crowded together: some sobbed,

some stumbled: the confusion was inextricable.

   'Where the devil is Rochester?' cried Colonel Dent. 'I cannot

find him in his bed.'

   'Here! here!' was shouted in return. 'Be composed, all of you:

I'm coming.'

   And the door at the end of the gallery opened, and Mr. Rochester

advanced with a candle: he had just descended from the upper storey.

One of the ladies ran to him directly; she seized his arm: it was Miss

Ingram.

   'What awful event has taken place?' said she. 'Speak! let us know

the worst at once!'

   'But don't pull me down or strangle me,' he replied: for the Misses

Eshton were clinging about him now; and the two dowagers, in vast

white wrappers, were bearing down on him like ships in full sail.

   'All's right!- all's right!' he cried. 'It's a mere rehearsal of

Much Ado about Nothing. Ladies, keep off, or I shall wax dangerous.'

   And dangerous he looked: his black eyes darted sparks. Calming

himself by an effort, he added-

   'A servant has had the nightmare; that is all. She's an

excitable, nervous person: she construed her dream into an apparition,

or something of that sort, no doubt; and has taken a fit with

fright. Now, then, I must see you all back into your rooms; for,

till the house is settled, she cannot be looked after. Gentlemen, have

the goodness to set the ladies the example. Miss Ingram, I am sure you

will not fail in evincing superiority to idle terrors. Amy and Louisa,

return to your nests like a pair of doves, as you are. Mesdames' (to

the dowagers), 'you will take cold to a dead certainty, if you stay in

this chill gallery any longer.'

   And so, by dint of alternate coaxing and commanding, he contrived

to get them all once more enclosed in their separate dormitories. I

did not wait to be ordered back to mine, but retreated unnoticed, as

unnoticed I had left it.

   Not, however, to go to bed: on the contrary, I began and dressed

myself carefully. The sounds I had heard after the scream, and the

words that had been uttered, had probably been heard only by me; for

they had proceeded from the room above mine: but they assured me

that it was not a servant's dream which had thus struck horror through

the house; and that the explanation Mr. Rochester had given was merely

an invention framed to pacify his guests. I dressed, then, to be ready

for emergencies. When dressed, I sat a long time by the window looking

out over the silent grounds and silvered fields and waiting for I knew

not what. It seemed to me that some event must follow the strange cry,

struggle, and call.

   No: stillness returned: each murmur and movement ceased

gradually, and in about an hour Thornfield Hall was again as hushed as

a desert. It seemed that sleep and night had resumed their empire.

Meantime the moon declined: she was about to set. Not liking to sit in

the cold and darkness, I thought I would lie down on my bed, dressed

as I was. I left the window, and moved with little noise across the

carpet; as I stooped to take off my shoes, a cautious hand tapped

low at the door.

   'Am I wanted?' I asked.

   'Are you up?' asked the voice I expected to hear, viz., my

master's.

   'Yes, sir.'

   'And dressed?'

   'Yes.'

   'Come out, then, quietly.'

   I obeyed. Mr. Rochester stood in the gallery holding a light.

   'I want you,' he said: 'come this way: take your time, and make

no noise.'

   My slippers were thin: I could walk the matted floor as softly as a

cat. He glided up the gallery and up the stairs, and stopped in the

dark, low corridor of the fateful third storey: I had followed and

stood at his side.

   'Have you a sponge in your room?' he asked in a whisper.

   'Yes, sir.'

   'Have you any salts- volatile salts?'

   'Yes.'

   'Go back and fetch both.'

   I returned, sought the sponge on the washstand, the salts in my

drawer, and once more retraced my steps. He still waited; he held a

key in his hand: approaching one of the small, black doors, he put

it in the lock; he paused, and addressed me again.

   'You don't turn sick at the sight of blood?'

   'I think I shall not: I have never been tried yet.'

   I felt a thrill while I answered him; but no coldness, and no

faintness.

   'Just give me your hand,' he said: 'it will not do to risk a

fainting fit.'

   I put my fingers into his. 'Warm and steady,' was his remark: he

turned the key and opened the door.

   I saw a room I remembered to have seen before, the day Mrs. Fairfax

showed me over the house: it was hung with tapestry; but the

tapestry was now looped up in one part, and there was a door apparent,

which had then been concealed. This door was open; a light shone out

of the room within: I heard thence a snarling, snatching sound, almost

like a dog quarrelling. Mr. Rochester, putting down his candle, said

to me, 'Wait a minute,' and he went forward to the inner apartment.

A shout of laughter greeted his entrance; noisy at first, and

terminating in Grace Poole's own goblin ha! ha! She then was there. He

made some sort of arrangement without speaking, though I heard a low

voice address him: he came out and closed the door behind him.

   'Here, Jane!' he said; and I walked round to the other side of a

large bed, which with its drawn curtains concealed a considerable

portion of the chamber. An easy-chair was near the bed-head: a man sat

in it, dressed with the exception of his coat; he was still; his

head leant back; his eyes were closed. Mr. Rochester held the candle

over him; I recognised in his pale and seemingly lifeless face- the

stranger, Mason: I saw too that his linen on one side and one arm, was

almost soaked in blood.

   'Hold the candle,' said Mr. Rochester, and I took it: he fetched

a basin of water from the washstand: 'Hold that,' said he. I obeyed.

He took the sponge, dipped it in, and moistened the corpse-like

face; he asked for my smelling-bottle, and applied it to the nostrils.

Mr. Mason shortly unclosed his eyes; he groaned. Mr. Rochester

opened the shirt of the wounded man, whose arm and shoulder were

bandaged: he sponged away blood, trickling fast down.

   'Is there immediate danger?' murmured Mr. Mason.

   'Pooh! No- a mere scratch. Don't be so overcome, man: bear up! I'll

fetch a surgeon for you now, myself: you'll be able to be removed by

morning, I hope. Jane,' he continued.

   'Sir?'

   'I shall have to leave you in this room with this gentleman, for an

hour, or perhaps two hours: you will sponge the blood as I do when

it returns: if he feels faint, you will put the glass of water on that

stand to his lips, and your salts to his nose. You will not speak to

him on any pretext- and- Richard, it will be at the peril of your life

if you speak to her: open your lips- agitate yourself- and I'll not

answer for the consequences.'

   Again the poor man groaned; he looked as if he dared not move;

fear, either of death or of something else, appeared almost to

paralyse him. Mr. Rochester put the now bloody sponge into my hand,

and I proceeded to use it as he had done. He watched me a second, then

saying, 'Remember!- No conversation,' he left the room. I

experienced a strange feeling as the key grated in the lock, and the

sound of his retreating step ceased to be heard.

   Here then I was in the third storey, fastened into one of its

mystic cells; night around me; a pale and bloody spectacle under my

eyes and hands; a murderess hardly separated from me by a single door:

yes- that was appalling- the rest I could bear; but I shuddered at the

thought of Grace Poole bursting out upon me.

   I must keep to my post, however. I must watch this ghastly

countenance- these blue, still lips forbidden to unclose- these eyes

now shut, now opening, now wandering through the room, now fixing on

me, and ever glazed with the dulness of horror. I must dip my hand

again and again in the basin of blood and water, and wipe away the

trickling gore. I must see the light of the unsnuffed candle wane on

my employment; the shadows darken on the wrought, antique tapestry

round me, and grow black under the hangings of the vast old bed, and

quiver strangely over the doors of a great cabinet opposite- whose

front, divided into twelve panels, bore, in grim design, the heads

of the twelve apostles, each enclosed in its separate panel as in a

frame; while above them at the top rose an ebon crucifix and a dying

Christ.

   According as the shifting obscurity and flickering gleam hovered

here or glanced there, it was now the bearded physician, Luke, that

bent his brow; now St. John's long hair that waved; and anon the

devilish face of Judas, that grew out of the panel, and seemed

gathering life and threatening a revelation of the arch-traitor- of

Satan himself- in his subordinate's form.

   Amidst all this, I had to listen as well as watch: to listen for

the movements of the wild beast or the fiend in yonder side den. But

since Mr. Rochester's visit it seemed spellbound: all the night I

heard but three sounds at three long intervals,- a step creak, a

momentary renewal of the snarling, canine noise, and a deep human

groan.

   Then my own thoughts worried me. What crime was this, that lived

incarnate in this sequestered mansion, and could neither be expelled

nor subdued by the owner?- what mystery, that broke out now in fire

and now in blood, at the deadest hours of night? What creature was it,

that, masked in an ordinary woman's face and shape, uttered the voice,

now of a mocking demon, and anon of a carrion-seeking bird of prey?

   And this man I bent over- this commonplace, quiet stranger- how had

he become involved in the web of horror? and why had the Fury flown at

him? What made him seek this quarter of the house at an untimely

season, when he should have been asleep in bed? I had heard Mr.

Rochester assign him an apartment below- what brought him here? And

why, now, was he so tame under the violence or treachery done him? Why

did he so quietly submit to the concealment Mr. Rochester enforced?

Why did Mr. Rochester enforce this concealment? His guest had been

outraged, his own life on a former occasion had been hideously plotted

against; and both attempts he smothered in secrecy and sank in

oblivion! Lastly, I saw Mr. Mason was submissive to Mr. Rochester;

that the impetuous will of the latter held complete sway over the

inertness of the former: the few words which had passed between them

assured me of this. It was evident that in their former intercourse,

the passive disposition of the one had been habitually influenced by

the active energy of the other: whence then had arisen Mr. Rochester's

dismay when he heard of Mr. Mason's arrival? Why had the mere name

of this unresisting individual- whom his word now sufficed to

control like a child- fallen on him, a few hours since, as a

thunderbolt might fall on an oak?

   Oh! I could not forget his look and his paleness when he whispered:

'Jane, I have got a blow- I have got a blow, Jane.' I could not forget

how the arm had trembled which he rested on my shoulder: and it was no

light matter which could thus bow the resolute spirit and thrill the

vigorous frame of Fairfax Rochester.

   'When will he come? When will he come?' I cried inwardly, as the

night lingered and lingered- as my bleeding patient drooped, moaned,

sickened: and neither day nor aid arrived. I had, again and again,

held the water to Mason's white lips; again and again offered him

the stimulating salts: my efforts seemed ineffectual: either bodily or

mental suffering, or loss of blood, or all three combined, were fast

prostrating his strength. He moaned so, and looked so weak, wild,

and lost, I feared he was dying; and I might not even speak to him.

   The candle, wasted at last, went out; as it expired, I perceived

streaks of grey light edging the window curtains: dawn was then

approaching. Presently I heard Pilot bark far below, out of his

distant kennel in the courtyard: hope revived. Nor was it unwarranted:

in five minutes more the grating key, the yielding lock, warned me

my watch was relieved. It could not have lasted more than two hours:

many a week has seemed shorter.

   Mr. Rochester entered, and with him the surgeon he had been to

fetch.

   'Now, Carter, be on the alert,' he said to this last: 'I give you

but half an hour for dressing the wound, fastening the bandages,

getting the patient downstairs and all.'

   'But is he fit to move, sir?'

   'No doubt of it; it is nothing serious; he is nervous, his

spirits must be kept up. Come, set to work.'

   Mr. Rochester drew back the thick curtain, drew up the holland

blind, let in all the daylight he could; and I was surprised and

cheered to see how far dawn was advanced: what rosy streaks were

beginning to brighten the east. Then he approached Mason, whom the

surgeon was already handling.

   'Now, my good fellow, how are you?' he asked.

   'She's done for me, I fear,' was the faint reply.

   'Not a whit!- courage! This day fortnight you'll hardly be a pin

the worse of it: you've lost a little blood; that's all. Carter,

assure him there's no danger.'

   'I can do that conscientiously,' said Carter, who had now undone

the bandages; 'only I wish I could have got here sooner: he would

not have bled so much- but how is this? The flesh on the shoulder is

torn as well as cut. This wound was not done with a knife: there

have been teeth here!'

   'She bit me,' he murmured. 'She worried me like a tigress, when

Rochester got the knife from her.'

   'You should not have yielded: you should have grappled with her

at once,' said Mr. Rochester.

   'But under such circumstances, what could one do?' returned

Mason. 'Oh, it was frightful!' he added, shuddering. 'And I did not

expect it: she looked so quiet at first.'

   'I warned you,' was his friend's answer; 'I said- be on your

guard when you go near her. Besides, you might have waited till

to-morrow, and had me with you: it was mere folly to attempt the

interview to-night, and alone.'

   'I thought I could have done some good.'

   'You thought! you thought! Yes, it makes me impatient to hear

you: but, however, you have suffered, and are likely to suffer

enough for not taking my advice; so I'll say no more. Carter-

hurry!- hurry! The sun will soon rise, and I must have him off.'

   'Directly, sir; the shoulder is just bandaged. I must look to

this other wound in the arm: she has had her teeth here too, I think.'

   'She sucked the blood: she said she'd drain my heart,' said Mason.

   I saw Mr. Rochester shudder: a singularly marked expression of

disgust, horror, hatred, warped his countenance almost to

distortion, but he only said-

   'Come, be silent, Richard, and never mind her gibberish: don't

repeat it.'

   'I wish I could forget it,' was the answer.

   'You will when you are out of the country: when you get back to

Spanish Town, you may think of her as dead and buried- or rather,

you need not think of her at all.'

   'Impossible to forget this night!'

   'It is not impossible: have some energy, man. You thought you

were as dead as a herring two hours since, and you are all alive and

talking now. There!- Carter has done with you or nearly so; I'll

make you decent in a trice. Jane' (he turned to me for the first

time since his re-entrance), 'take this key: go down into my

bedroom, and walk straight forward into my dressing-room: open the top

drawer of the wardrobe and take out a clean shirt and

neck-handkerchief: bring them here; and be nimble.'

   I went; sought the repository he had mentioned, found the

articles named, and returned with them.

   'Now,' said he, 'go to the other side of the bed while I order

his toilet; but don't leave the room: you may be wanted again.'

   I retired as directed.

   'Was anybody stirring below when you went down, Jane?' inquired Mr.

Rochester presently.

   'No, sir; all was very still.'

   'We shall get you off cannily, Dick: and it will be better, both

for your sake, and for that of the poor creature in yonder. I have

striven long to avoid exposure, and I should not like it to come at

last. Here, Carter, help him on with his waistcoat. Where did you

leave your furred cloak? You can't travel a mile without that, I know,

in this damned cold climate. In your room?- Jane, run down to Mr.

Mason's room,- the one next mine,- and fetch a cloak you will see

there.'

   Again I ran, and again returned, bearing an immense mantle lined

and edged with fur.

   'Now, I've another errand for you,' said my untiring master; you

must away to my room again. What a mercy you are shod with velvet,

Jane!- a clod-hopping messenger would never do at this juncture. You

must open the middle drawer of my toilet-table and take out a little

phial and a little glass you will find there,- quick!'

   I flew thither and back, bringing the desired vessels.

   'That's well! Now, doctor, I shall take the liberty of

administering a dose myself, on my own responsibility. I got this

cordial at Rome, of an Italian charlatan- a fellow you would have

kicked, Carter. It is not a thing to be used indiscriminately, but

it is good upon occasion: as now, for instance. Jane, a little water.'

   He held out the tiny glass, and I half-filled it from the

water-bottle on the washstand.

   'That will do;- now wet the lip of the phial.'

   I did so; he measured twelve drops of a crimson liquid, and

presented it to Mason.

   'Drink, Richard: it will give you the heart you lack, for an hour

or so.'

   'But will it hurt me?- is it inflammatory?'

   'Drink! drink! drink!'

   Mr. Mason obeyed, because it was evidently useless to resist. He

was dressed now: he still looked pale, but he was no longer gory and

sullied. Mr. Rochester let him sit three minutes after he had

swallowed the liquid; he then took his arm-

   'Now I am sure you can get on your feet,' he said- 'try.'

   The patient rose.

   'Carter, take him under the other shoulder. Be of good cheer,

Richard; step out- that's it!'

   'I do feel better,' remarked Mr. Mason.

   'I am sure you do. Now, Jane, trip on before us away to the

backstairs; unbolt the side-passage door, and tell the driver of the

post-chaise you will see in the yard- or just outside, for I told

him not to drive his rattling wheels over the pavement- to be ready;

we are coming: and, Jane, if any one is about, come to the foot of the

stairs and hem.'

   It was by this time half-past five, and the sun was on the point of

rising; but I found the kitchen still dark and silent. The

side-passage door was fastened; I opened it with as little noise as

possible: all the yard was quiet; but the gates stood wide open, and

there was a post-chaise, with horses ready harnessed, and driver

seated on the box, stationed outside. I approached him, and said the

gentlemen were coming; he nodded: then I looked carefully round and

listened. The stillness of early morning slumbered everywhere; the

curtains were yet drawn over the servants' chamber windows; little

birds were just twittering in the blossom-blanched orchard trees,

whose boughs drooped like white garlands over the wall enclosing one

side of the yard; the carriage horses stamped from time to time in

their closed stables: all else was still.

   The gentlemen now appeared. Mason, supported by Mr. Rochester and

the surgeon, seemed to walk with tolerable ease: they assisted him

into the chaise; Carter followed.

   'Take care of him,' said Mr. Rochester to the latter, 'and keep him

at your house till he is quite well: I shall ride over in a day or two

to see how he gets on. Richard, how is it with you?'

   'The fresh air revives me, Fairfax.'

   'Leave the window open on his side, Carter; there is no wind-

good-bye, Dick.'

   'Fairfax-'

   'Well, what is it?'

   'Let her be taken care of; let her be treated as tenderly as may

be: let her- ' he stopped and burst into tears.

   'I do my best; and have done it, and will do it,' was the answer:

he shut up the chaise door, and the vehicle drove away.

   'Yet would to God there was an end of all this!' added Mr.

Rochester, as he closed and barred the heavy yard-gates.

   This done, he moved with slow step and abstracted air towards a

door in the wall bordering the orchard. I, supposing he had done

with me, prepared to return to the house; again, however, I heard

him call 'Jane!' He had opened the portal and stood at it, waiting for

me.

   'Come where there is some freshness, for a few moments,' he said;

'that house is a mere dungeon: don't you feel it so?'

   'It seems to me a splendid mansion, sir.'

   'The glamour of inexperience is over your eyes,' he answered;

'and you see it through a charmed medium: you cannot discern that

the gilding is slime and the silk draperies cobwebs; that the marble

is sordid slate, and the polished woods mere refuse chips and scaly

bark. Now here' (he pointed to the leafy enclosure we had entered)

'all is real, sweet, and pure.'

   He strayed down a walk edged with box, with apple trees, pear

trees, and cherry trees on one side, and a border on the other full of

all sorts of old-fashioned flowers, stocks, sweet-williams, primroses,

pansies, mingled with southernwood, sweet-briar, and various

fragrant herbs. They were fresh now as a succession of April showers

and gleams, followed by a lovely spring morning, could make them:

the sun was just entering the dappled east, and his light illumined

the wreathed and dewy orchard trees and shone down the quiet walks

under them.

   'Jane, will you have a flower?'

   He gathered a half-blown rose, the first on the bush, and offered

it to me.

   'Thank you, sir.'

   'Do you like this sunrise, Jane? That sky with its high and light

clouds which are sure to melt away as the day waxes warm- this

placid and balmy atmosphere?'

   'I do, very much.'

   'You have passed a strange night, Jane.'

   'Yes, sir.'

   'And it has made you look pale- were you afraid when I left you

alone with Mason?'

   'I was afraid of some one coming out of the inner room.'

   'But I had fastened the door- I had the key in my pocket: I

should have been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb- my pet

lamb- so near a wolf's den, unguarded: you were safe.'

   'Will Grace Poole live here still, sir?'

   'Oh yes! don't trouble your head about her- put the thing out of

your thoughts.'

   'Yet it seems to me your life is hardly secure while she stays.'

   'Never fear- I will take care of myself.'

   'Is the danger you apprehended last night gone by now, sir?'

   'I cannot vouch for that till Mason is out of England: nor even

then. To live, for me, Jane, is to stand on a crater-crust which may

crack and spue fire any day.'

   'But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led. Your influence, sir, is

evidently potent with him: he will never set you at defiance or

wilfully injure you.'

   'Oh no! Mason will not defy me; nor, knowing it, will he hurt me-

but, unintentionally, he might in a moment, by one careless word,

deprive me, if not of life, yet for ever of happiness.'

   'Tell him to be cautious, sir: let him know what you fear, and show

him how to avert the danger.'

   He laughed sardonically, hastily took my hand, and as hastily threw

it from him.

   'If I could do that, simpleton, where would the danger be?

Annihilated in a moment. Ever since I have known Mason, I have only

had to say to him "Do that," and the thing has been done. But I cannot

give him orders in this case: I cannot say "Beware of harming me,

Richard"; for it is imperative that I should keep him ignorant that

harm to me is possible. Now you look puzzled; and I will puzzle you

further. You are my little friend, are you not?'

   'I like to serve you, sir, and to obey you in all that is right.'

   'Precisely: I see you do. I see genuine contentment in your gait

and mien, your eye and face, when you are helping me and pleasing

me- working for me, and with me, in, as you characteristically say,

"all that is right": for if I bid you do what you thought wrong, there

would be no light-footed running, no neat-handed alacrity, no lively

glance and animated complexion. My friend would then turn to me, quiet

and pale, and would say, "No, sir; that is impossible: I cannot do it,

because it is wrong"; and would become immutable as a fixed star.

Well, you too have power over me, and may injure me: yet I dare not

show you where I am vulnerable, lest, faithful and friendly as you

are, you should transfix me at once.'

   'If you have no more to fear from Mr. Mason than you have from

me, sir, you are very safe.'

   'God grant it may be so! Here, Jane, is an arbour; sit down.'

   The arbour was an arch in the wall, lined with ivy; it contained

a rustic seat. Mr. Rochester took it, leaving room, however, for me:

but I stood before him.

   'Sit,' he said; 'the bench is long enough for two. You don't

hesitate to take a place at my side, do you? Is that wrong, Jane?'

   I answered him by assuming it: to refuse would, I felt, have been

unwise.

   'Now, my little friend, while the sun drinks the dew- while all the

flowers in this old garden awake and expand, and the birds fetch their

young ones' breakfast out of the Thornfield, and the early bees do

their first spell of work- I'll put a case to you, which you must

endeavour to suppose your own: but first, look at me, and tell me

you are at ease, and not fearing that I err in detaining you, or

that you err in staying.'

   'No, sir; I am content.'

   'Well then, Jane, call to aid your fancy:- suppose you were no

longer a girl well reared and disciplined, but a wild boy indulged

from childhood upwards; imagine yourself in a remote foreign land;

conceive that you there commit a capital error, no matter of what

nature or from what motives, but one whose consequences must follow

you through life and taint all your existence. Mind, I don't say a

crime; I am not speaking of shedding of blood or any other guilty act,

which might make the perpetrator amenable to the law: my word is

error. The results of what you have done become in time to you utterly

insupportable; you take measures to obtain relief: unusual measures,

but neither unlawful nor culpable. Still you are miserable; for hope

has quitted you on the very confines of life: your sun at noon darkens

in an eclipse, which you feel will not leave it till the time of

setting. Bitter and base associations have become the sole food of

your memory: you wander here and there, seeking rest in exile:

happiness in pleasure- I mean in heartless, sensual pleasure- such

as dulls intellect and blights feeling. Heart-weary and soul-withered,

you come home after years of voluntary banishment: you make a new

acquaintance- how or where no matter: you find in this stranger much

of the good and bright qualities which you have sought for twenty

years, and never before encountered; and they are all fresh,

healthy, without soil and without taint. Such society revives,

regenerates: you feel better days come back-higher wishes, purer

feelings; you desire to recommence your life, and to spend what

remains to you of days in a way more worthy of an immortal being. To

attain this end, are you justified in overleaping an obstacle of

custom-a mere conventional impediment which neither your conscience

sanctifies nor your judgment approves?'

   He paused for an answer: and what was I to say? Oh, for some good

spirit to suggest a judicious and satisfactory response! Vain

aspiration! The west wind whispered in the ivy round me; but no gentle

Ariel borrowed its breath as a medium of speech: the birds sang in the

tree-tops; but their song, however sweet, was inarticulate.

   Again Mr. Rochester propounded his query:

   'Is the wandering and sinful, but now rest-seeking and repentant,

man justified in daring the world's opinion, in order to attach to him

for ever this gentle, gracious, genial stranger, thereby securing

his own peace of mind and regeneration of life?'

   'Sir,' I answered, 'a wanderer's repose or a sinner's reformation

should never depend on a fellow-creature. Men and women die;

philosophers falter in wisdom, and Christians in goodness: if any

one you know has suffered and erred, let him look higher than his

equals for strength to amend and solace to heal.'

   'But the instrument- the instrument! God, who does the work,

ordains the instrument. I have myself- I tell it you without

parable- been a worldly, dissipated, restless man; and I believe I

have found the instrument for my cure in-'

   He paused: the birds went on carolling, the leaves lightly

rustling. I almost wondered they did not check their songs and

whispers to catch the suspended revelation; but they would have had to

wait many minutes- so long was the silence protracted. At last I

looked up at the tardy speaker: he was looking eagerly at me.

   'Little friend,' said he, in quite a changed tone- while his face

changed too, losing all its softness and gravity, and becoming harsh

and sarcastic- 'you have noticed my tender penchant for Miss Ingram:

don't you think if I married her she would regenerate me with a

vengeance?'

   He got up instantly, went quite to the other end of the walk, and

when he came back he was humming a tune.

   'Jane, Jane,' said he, stopping before me, 'you are quite pale with

your vigils: don't you curse me for disturbing your rest?'

   'Curse you? No, sir.'

   'Shake hands in confirmation of the word. What cold fingers! They

were warmer last night when I touched them at the door of the

mysterious chamber. Jane, when will you watch with me again?'

   'Whenever I can be useful, sir.'

   'For instance, the night before I am married! I am sure I shall not

be able to sleep. Will you promise to sit up with me to bear me

company? To you I can talk of my lovely one: for now you have seen her

and know her.'

   'Yes, sir.'

   'She's a rare one, is she not, Jane?'

   'Yes, sir.'

   'A strapper- a real strapper, Jane: big, brown, and buxom; with

hair just such as the ladies of Carthage must have had. Bless me!

there's Dent and Lynn in the stables! Go in by the shrubbery,

through that wicket.'

   As I went one way, he went another, and I heard him in the yard,

saying cheerfully-

   'Mason got the start of you all this morning; he was gone before

sunrise: I rose at four to see him off.'