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my senses as if their utmost activity hitherto had been but torpor, from which they were now summoned and forced to wake. They rose expectant: eye and ear waited while the flesh quivered on my bones. What have you heard? What do you see? asked St. John. I saw nothing, but I heard a voice somewhere cry Jane! Jane! Jane!nothing more. O God! what is it? I gasped. I might have said, Where is it? for it did not seem in the room nor in the housenor in the garden; it did not come out of the airnor from under the earthnor from overhead. I had heard it where, or whence, for ever impossible to know! And it was the voice of a human beinga known, loved, well- remembered voicethat of Edward Fairfax Rochester; and it spoke in pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently. I am coming! I cried. Wait for me! Oh, I will come! I flew to the door and looked into the passage: it was dark. I ran out into the garden: it was void. Where are you? I exclaimed. The hills beyond Marsh Glen sent the answer faintly backWhere are you? I listened. The wind sighed low in the firs: all was moorland loneliness and midnight hush. Down superstition! I commented, as that spectre rose up black by the black yew at the gate. This is not thy deception, nor thy witchcraft: it is the work of nature. She was roused, and didno miraclebut her best. I broke from St. John, who had followed, and would have detained me. It was my time to assume ascendency. My powers were in play and in force. I told him to forbear question or remark; I desired him to leave me: I must and would be alone. He obeyed at once. Where there is energy to command well enough, obedience never fails. I mounted to my chamber; locked myself in; fell on my knees; and prayed in my waya different way to St. Johns, but effective in its own fashion. I seemed to penetrate very near a Mighty Spirit; and my soul rushed out in gratitude at His feet. I rose from the thanksgivingtook a resolveand lay down, unscared, enlightened eager but for the daylight. |
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