leaning over it, ed against telpiece, appeared tenant of t, lay on one side, removed out of tently trodden upon. Pilot pricked up oray from my  it on table; tted ly, “Lie dourned meco see ion  as urned and sighed.

    “Give me ter, Mary,” he said.

    I approac folloill excited.

    “ is tter?” he inquired.

    “Do!” I again said. er on its o o listen:  t not?”

    “Mary is in tchen,” I answered.

    out ure, but not seeing oucrying, as it seemed, to SEE less eyes— unavailing and distressing attempt! “Answer me—speak again!” he ordered, imperiously and aloud.

    “ill you tle more er, sir? I spilt  he glass,” I said.

    “?  is it? ho speaks?”

    “Pilot knows me, and Johis evening,” I answered.

    “Great God!— madness has seized me?”

    “No delusion—no madness: your mind, sir, is too strong for delusion, your oo sound for frenzy.”

    “And  I must feel, or my  op and my brain burst. ever—o touc live!”

    ed  in both mine.

    “ fingers! If so t be more of her.”

    tody; my arm o him.

    “Is it Jane?  is it? this is her size—”

    “And t, too. God bless you, sir! I am glad to be so near you again.”

    “Jane Eyre!—Jane Eyre,” was all he said.

    “My dear master,” I anso you.”

    “In truthe flesh? My living Jane?”

    “You touc enoug cold like a corpse, nor vacant like air, am I?”

    “My living darling! tainly ures; but I cannot be so blest, after all my misery. It is a dream; suc nigo my , as I do no s