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has　now　been　resident　eight　weeks。　If　he　does　go；　the　change　will　be　doleful。　Suppose　he　should　be　absent　spring；　summer；　and　autumn：　how　joyless　sunshine　and　fine　days　will　seem！”
I　hardly　know　whether　I　had　slept　or　not　after　this　musing；　at　any　rate；　I　started　wide　awake　on　hearing　a　vague　murmur；　peculiar　and　lugubrious；　which　sounded；　I　thought；　just　above　me。　I　wished　I　had　kept　my　candle　burning：　the　night　was　drearily　dark；　my　spirits　were　depressed。　I　rose　and　sat　up　in　bed；　listening。　The　sound　was　hushed。
I　tried　again　to　sleep；　but　my　heart　beat　anxiously：　my　inward　tranquillity　was　broken。　The　clock；　far　down　in　the　hall；　struck　two。　Just　then　it　seemed　my　chamber…door　was　touched；　as　if　fingers　had　swept　the　panels　in　groping　a　way　along　the　dark　gallery　outside。　I　said；　“Who　is　there？”　Nothing　answered。　I　was　chilled　with　fear。
All　at　once　I　remembered　that　it　might　be　Pilot；　who；　when　the　kitchen…door　chanced　to　be　left　open；　not　unfrequently　found　his　way　up　to　the　threshold　of　Mr。　Rochester’s　chamber：　I　had　seen　him　lying　there　myself　in　the　mornings。　The　idea　calmed　me　somewhat：　I　lay　down。　Silence　poses　the　nerves；　and　as　an　unbroken　hush　now　reigned　again　through　the　whole　house；　I　began　to　feel　the　return　of　slumber。　But　it　was　not　fated　that　I　should　sleep　that　night。　A　dream　had　scarcely　approached　my　ear；　when　it　fled　affrighted；　scared　by　a　marrow…freezing　incident　enough。
This　was　a　demoniac　laugh—low；　suppressed；　and　deep—uttered；　as　it　seemed；　at　the　very　keyhole　of　my　chamber　door。　The　head　of　my　bed　was　near　the　door；　and　I　thought　at　first　the　goblin…laugher　stood　at　my　bedside—or　rather；　crouched　by　my　pillow：　but　I　rose；　looked　round；　and　could　see　nothing；　while；　as　I　still　gazed；　the　unnatural　sound　was　reiterated：　and　I　knew　it　came　from　behind　the　panels。　My　first　impulse　was　to　rise　and　fasten　the　bolt；　my　next；　again　to　cry　out；　“Who　is　there？”
Something　gurgled　and　moaned。　Ere　long；　steps　retreated　up　the　gallery　towards　the　third…storey　staircase：　a　door　had　lately　been　made　to　shut　in　that　staircase；　I　heard　it　open　and　close；　and　all　was　still。
“Was　that　Grace　Poole？　and　is　she　possessed　with　a　devil？”　thought　I。　Impossible　now　to　remain　longer　by　myself：　I　must　go　to　Mrs。　Fairfax。　I　hurried　on　my　frock　and　a　shawl；　I　withdrew　the　bolt　and　opened　the　door　with　a　trembling　hand。　There　was　a　candle　burning　just　outside；　and　on　the　matting　in　the　gallery。　I　was　surprised　at　this　circumstance：　but　still　more　was　I　amazed　to　perceive　the　air　quite　dim；　as　if　filled　with　smoke；　and；　while　looking　to　the　right　hand　and　left；　to　find　whence　these　blue　wreaths　issued；　I　became　further　aware　of　a　strong　smell　of　burning。
Something　creaked：　it　was　a　door　ajar；　and　that　door　was　Mr。　Rochester’s；　and　the　smoke　rushed　in　a　cloud　from　thence。　I　thought　no　more　of　Mrs。　Fairfax；　I　thought　no　more　of　Grace　Poole；　or　the　laugh：　in　an　instant；　I　was　within　the　chamber。　Tongues　of　flame　darted　round　the　bed：　the　curtains　were　on　fire。　In　the　midst　of　blaze　and　vapour；　Mr。　Rochester　lay　stretched　motionless；　in　deep　sleep。
“Wake！　wake！”　I　cried。　I　shook　him；　but　he　only　murmured　and　turned：　the　smoke　had　stupefied　him。　Not　a　moment　could　be　lost：　the　very　sheets　were　kindling；　I　rushed　to　his　basin　and　ewer；　fortunately；　one　was　wide　and　the　other　deep；　and　both　were　filled　with　water。　I　heaved　them　up；　deluged　the　bed　and　its　occupant；　flew　back　to　my　own　room；　brought　my　own　water…jug；　baptized　the　couch　afresh；　and；　by　God’s　aid；　succeeded　in　extinguishing　the　flames　which　were　devouring　it。
The　hiss　of　the　quenched　element；　the　breakage　of　a　pitcher　which　I　flung　from　my　hand　when　I　had　emptied　it；　and；　above　all；　the　splash　of　the　shower…bath　I　had　liberally　bestowed；　roused　Mr。　Rochester　at　last。　Though　it　was　now　dark；　I　knew　he　was　awake；　because　I　heard　him　fulminating　strange　anathemas　at　finding　himself　lying　in　a　pool　of　water。
“Is　there　a　flood？”　he　cried。
“No；　sir；”　I　answered；　“but　there　has　been　a　fire：　get　up；　do；　you　are　quenched　now；　I　will　fetch　you　a　candle。”
“In　the　name　of　all　the　elves　in　Christendom；　is　that　Jane　Eyre？”　he　demanded。　“What　have　you　done　with　me；　witch；　sorceress？　Who　is　in　the　room　besides　you？　Have　you　plotted　to　drown　me？”
“I　will　fetch　you　a　candle；　sir；　and；　in　Heaven’s　name；　get　up。　Somebody　has　plotted　something：　you　cannot　too　soon　find　out　who　and　what　it　is。”
“There！　I　am　up　now；　but　at　your　peril　you　fetch　a　candle　yet：　wait　two　minutes　till　I　get　into　some　dry　garments；　if　any　dry　there　be—yes；　here　is　my　dressing…gown。　Now　run！”
I　did　run；　I　brought　the　candle　which　still　remained　in　the　gallery。　He　took　it　from　my　hand；　held　it　up；　and　surveyed　the　bed；　all　blackened　and　scorched；　the　sheets　drenched；　the　carpet　round　swimming　in　water。
“What　is　it？　and　who　did　it？”　he　asked。　I　briefly　related　to　him　what　had　transpired：　the　strange　laugh　I　had　heard　in　the　gallery：　the　step　ascending　to　the　third　storey；　the　smoke；—the　smell　of　fire　which　had　conducted　me　to　his　room；　in　what　state　I　had　found　matters　there；　and　how　I　had　deluged　him　with　all　the　water　I　could　lay　hands　on。
He　listened　very　gravely；　his　face；　as　I　went　on；　expressed　more　concern　than　astonishment；　he　did　not　immediately　speak　when　I　had　concluded。
“Shall　I　call　Mrs。　Fairfax？”　I　asked。
“Mrs。　Fairfax？　No；　what　the　deuce　would　you　call　her　for？　What　can　she　do？　Let　her　sleep　unmolested。”
“Then　I　will　fetch　Leah；　and　wake　John　and　his　wife。”
“Not　at　all：　just　be　still。　You　have　a　shawl　on。　If　you　are　not　warm　enough；　you　may　take　my　cloak　yonder；　wrap　it　about　you；　and　sit　down　in　the　arm…chair：　there；—I　will　put　it　on。　Now　place　your　feet　on　the　stool；　to　keep　them　out　of　the　wet。　I　am　going　to　leave　you　a　few　minutes。　I　shall　take　the　candle。　Remain　where　you　are　till　I　return；　be　as　still　as　a　mouse。　I　must　pay　a　visit　to　the　second　storey。　Don’t　move；　remember；　or　call　any　one。”
He　went：　I　watched　the　light　withdraw。　He　passed　up　the　gallery　very　softly；　unclosed　the　staircase　door　with　as　little　noise　as　possible；　shut　it　after　him；　and　the　last　ray　vanished。　I　was　left　in　total　darkness。　I　listened　for　some　noise；　but　heard　nothing。　A　very　long　time　elapsed。　I　grew　weary：　it　was　cold；　in　spite　of　the　cloak；　and　then　I　did　not　see　the　use　of　staying；　as　I　was　not　to　rouse　the　house。　I　was　on　the　point　of　risking　Mr。　Rochester’s　displeasure　by　disobeying　his　orders；　when　the　light　once　more　gleamed　dimly　on　the　gallery　wall；　and　I　heard　his　unshod　feet　tread　the　matting。　“I　hope　it　is　he；”　thought　I；　“and　not　something　worse。”
He　re…entered；　pale　and　very　gloomy。　“I　have　found　it　all　out；”　said　he；　setting　his　candle　down　on　the　washstand；　“it　is　as　I　thought。”
“How；　sir？”
He　made　no　reply；　but　stood　with　his　arms　folded；　looking　on　the　ground。　At　the　end　of　a　few　minutes　he　inquired　in　rather　a　peculiar　tone—
“I　forget　whether　you　said　you　saw　anything　when　you　opened　your　chamber　door。”
“No；　sir；　only　the　candlestick　on　the　ground。”
“But　you　heard　an　odd　laugh？　You　have　heard　that　laugh　before；　I　should　think；　or　something　like　it？”
“Yes；　sir：　there　is　a　woman　who　sews　here；　called　Grace　Poole；—she　laughs　in　that　way。　She　is　a　singular　person。”
“Just　so。　Grace　Poole—you　have　guessed　it。　She　is；　as　you　say；　singular—very。　Well；　I　shall　reflect　on　the　subject。　Meantime；　I　am　glad　that　you　are　the　only　person；　besides　myself；　acquainted　with　the　precise　details　of　to…night’s　incident。　You　are　no　talking　fool：　say　nothing　about　it。　I　will　account　for　this　state　of　affairs”　（pointing　to　the　bed）：　“and　now　return　to　your　own　room。　I　shall　do　very　well　on　the　sofa　in　the　library　for　the　rest　of　the　night。　It　is　near　four：…　in　two　hours　the　servants　will　be　up。”
“Good…night；　then；　sir；”　said　I；　departing。
He　seemed　surprised—very　inconsistently　so；　as　he　had　just　told　me　to　go。
“What！”　he　exclaimed；　“are　you　quitting　me　already；　and　in　that　way？”
“You　said　I　might　go；　sir。”
“But　not　without　taking　leave；　not　without　a　word　or　two　of　acknowledgment　and　good…will：　not；　in　short；　in　that　brief；　dry　fashion。　Why；　you　have　saved　my　life！—snatched　me　from　a　horrible　and　excruciating　death！　and　you　walk　past　me　as　if　we　were　mutual　strangers！　At　least　shake　hands。”
He　held　out　his　hand；　I　gave　him　mine：　he　took　it　first　in　one；　them　in　both　his　own。
“You　have　saved　my　life：　I　have　a　pleasure　in　owing　you　so　immense　a　debt。　I　cannot　say　more。　Nothing　else　that　has　being　would　have　been　tolerable　to　me　in　the　character　of　creditor　for　such　an　obligation：　but　you：　it　is　different；—I　feel　your　benefits　no　burden；　Jane。”
He　paused；　gazed　at　me：　words　almost　visible　trembled　on　his　lips；—but　his　voice　was　checked。
“Good…night　again；　sir。　There　is　no　debt；　benefit；　burden；　obligation；　in　the　case。”
“I　knew；”　he　continued；　“you　would　do　me　good　in　some　way；　at　some　time；—I　saw　it　in　your　eyes　when　I　first　beheld　you：　their　expression　and　smile　did　not”—（again　he　stopped）—“did　not”　（he　proceeded　hastily）　“strike　delight　to　my　very　inmost　heart　so　for　nothing。　People　talk　of　natural　sympathies；　I　have　heard　of　good　genii：　there　are　grains　of　truth　in　the　wildest　fable。　My　cherished　preserver；　goodnight！”
Strange　energy　was　in　his　voice；　strange　fire　in　his　look。
“I　am　glad　I　happened　to　be　awake；”　I　said：　and　then　I　was　going。
“What！　you　will　go？”
“I　am　cold；　sir。”
“Cold？　Yes；—and　standing　in　a　pool！　Go；　then；　Jane；　go！”　But　he　still　retained　my　hand；　and　I　could　not　free　it。　I　bethought　myself　of　an　expedient。
“I　think　I　hear　Mrs。　Fairfax　move；　sir；”　said　I。
“Well；　leave　me：”　he　relaxed　his　fingers；　and　I　was　gone。
I　regained　my　couch；　but　never　thought　of　sleep。　Till　morning　dawned　I　was　tossed　on　a　buoyant　but　unquiet　sea；　where　billows　of　trouble　rolled　under　surges　of　joy。　I　thought　sometimes　I　saw　beyond　its　wild　waters　a　shore；　sweet　as　the　hills　of　Beulah；　and　now　and　then　a　freshening　gale；　wakened　by　hope；　bore　my　spirit　triumphantly　towards　the　bourne：　but　I　could　not　reach　it；　even　in　fancy—a　counteracting　breeze　blew　off　land；　and　continually　drove　me　back。　Sense　would　resist　delirium：　judgment　would　warn　passion。　Too　feverish　to　rest；　I　rose　as　soon　as　day　dawned。
Chapter　16
I　both　wished　and　feared　to　see　Mr。　Rochester　on　the　day　which　followed　this　sleepless　night：　I　wanted　to　hear　his　voice　again；　yet　feared　to　meet　his　eye。　During　the　early　part　of　the　morning；　I　momentarily　expected　his　ing；　he　was　not　in　the　frequent　habit　of　entering　the　schoolroom；　but　he　did　step　in　for　a　few　minutes　sometimes；　and　I　had　the　impression　that　he　was　sure　to　visit　it　that　day。
But　the　morning　passed　just　as　usual：　nothing　happened　to　interrupt　the　quiet　course　of　Adèle’s　studies；　only　soon　after　breakfast；　I　heard　some　bustle　in　the　neighbourhood　of　Mr。　Rochester’s　chamber；　Mrs。　Fairfax’s　voice；　and　Leah’s；　and　the　cook’s—that　is；　John’s　wife—and　even　John’s　own　gruff　tones。　There　were　exclamations　of　“What　a　mercy　master　was　not　burnt　in　his　bed！”　“It　is　always　dangerous　to　keep　a　candle　lit　at　night。”　“How　providential　that　he　had　presence　of　mind　to　think　of　the　water…jug！”　“I　wonder　he　waked　nobody！”　“It　is　to　be　hoped　he　will　not　take　cold　with　sleeping　on　the　library　sofa；”　&c。
To　much　confabulation　succeeded　a　sound　of　scrubbing　and　setting　to　rights；　and　when　I　passed　the　room；　in　going　downstairs　to　dinner；　I　saw　through　the　open　door　that　all　was　again　restored　to　plete　order；　only　the　bed　was　stripped　of　its　hangings。　Leah　stood　up　in　the　window…seat；　rubbing　the　panes　of　glass　dimmed　with　smoke。　I　was　about　to　address　her；　for　I　wished　to　know　what　account　had　been　given　of　the　affair：　but；　on　advancing；　I　saw　a　second　person　in　the　chamber—a　woman　sitting　on　a　chair　by　the　bedside；　and　sewing　rings　to　new　curtains。　That　woman　was　no　other　than　Grace　Poole。
There　she　sat；　staid　and　taciturn…looking；　as　usual；　in　her　brown　stuff　gown；　her　check　apron；　white　handkerchief；　and　cap。　She　was　intent　on　her　work；　in　which　her　whole　thoughts　seemed　absorbed：　on　her　hard　forehead；　and　in　her　monplace　features；　was　nothing　either　of　the　paleness　or　desperation　one　would　have　expected　to　see　marking　the　countenance　of　a　woman　who　had　attempt