ked round, and could see notill gazed, tural sound erated: and I kne came from be impulse o rise and fasten t; my next, again to cry out, “here?”

    Someteps retreated up toorey staircase: a door ely been made to s in t staircase; I  open and close, and all ill.

    “as t Grace Poole? and is s I. Impossible noo remain longer by myself: I must go to Mrs. Fairfax. I  and opened trembling  outside, and on tting in t tance: but still more o perceive te dim, as if filled o t , to find wrong smell of burning.

    Somet  door  no more of Mrs. Fairfax; I t no more of Grace Poole, or tant, I ongues of flame darted round tains  of blaze and vapour, Mr. Rocer lay stretcionless, in deep sleep.

    “ake! upefied  a moment could be lost: ts ely, one er. I s occupant, fleo my oized tinguis.

    t, tcied it, and, above all, to last. t range anat finding er.

    “Is there a flood?” he cried.

    “No, sir,” I ans t up, do; you are quencch you a candle.”

    “In tendom, is t Jane Eyre?”  cted to drown me?”

    “I c up. Somebody ted somet too soon find out  is.”

    “t at your peril you fetc:  tes till I get into some dry garments, if any dry there be—yes, here is my dressing-gown. Now run!”

    I did run; I brougill remained in took it from my  up, and surveyed ts drenc round ser.

    “ is it? and o  ranspired: trange laugep ascending to torey; ted me to  state I ters ter I could lay hands on.

    ened very gravely;  on, expressed more concern tonis;  imm