nmyresolves?ItwillexpiateatGod’stribunal.IknowmyMakersanswhatIdo.Fortheworld’sjudgment—Iwashmyhandsthereof.Forman’sopinio.”

    Butwhathadbefallenthenight?Themoonwas,andwewereallinshadow:Icouldscarcelyseemymaster’sfaearasIwas.Andwhatailedthechestnuttree?itwrithedandgroaned;whilewindroaredinthelaurelwalk,andcamesweepingoverus.

    “Wemustgoin,”saidMr.Rochester:“theweatherges.Icouldhavesatwiththeetillm,Jane.”

    “Andso,”thoughtI,“couldIwithyou.”Ishouldhavesaidso,perhaps,butalivid,vividsparkleaptoutofacloudatwhichIwaslooking,andtherewasacrack,acrash,andacloserattlingpeal;andIthoughtonlyofhidingmydazzledeyesagainstMr.Rochester’sshoulder.

    Therainrusheddown.Hehurriedmeupthewalk,throughthegrounds,andintothehouse;butwewerequitewetbeforewecouldpassthethreshold.Hewastakingoffmyshawlinthehall,andshakieroutofmyloosenedhair,whenMrs.Fairfaxemergedfromherroom.Ididnotobserveheratfirst,nordidMr.Rochester.Thelampwaslit.Theclockwasorokeoftwelve.

    “Hastentotakeoffyourwetthings,”saidhe;“andbeforeyougo,good-night—good-night,mydarling!”

    Hekissedmerepeatedly.WhenIlookedup,onleavinghisarms,therestoodthewidow,pale,grave,andamazed.Ionlysmiledather,andranupstairs.“Explanationwilldoforaime,”thoughtI.Still,whenIreachedmychamber,Ifeltapangattheideasheshouldeventemporarilymisstruewhatshehadseen.Butjoysooneffacedeveryotherfeeling;andloudasthewindblew,nearahethundercrashed,fierdfrequentasthelightninggleamed,cataract-likeastherainfellduringastormoftwohours’duration,Iexperienofeara