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Some
time
passed
before
I
felt
tranquil
even
here
:
I
had
a
vague
dread
that
wild
cattle
might
be
near
,
or
that
some
sportsman
or
poacher
might
discover
me
.
If
a
gust
of
wind
swept
the
waste
,
I
looked
up
,
fearing
it
was
the
rush
of
a
bull
;
if
a
plover
whistled
,
I
imagined
it
a
man
.
Finding
my
apprehensions
unfounded
,
however
,
and
calmed
by
the
deep
silence
that
reigned
as
evening
declined
at
nightfall
,
I
took
confidence
.
As
yet
I
had
not
thought
;
I
had
only
listened
,
watched
,
dreaded
;
now
I
regained
the
faculty
of
reflection
.
What
was
I
to
do
?
Where
to
go
?
Oh
,
intolerable
questions
,
when
I
could
do
nothing
and
go
nowhere
!
--
when
a
long
way
must
yet
be
measured
by
my
weary
,
trembling
limbs
before
I
could
reach
human
habitation
--
when
cold
charity
must
be
entreated
before
I
could
get
a
lodging
:
reluctant
sympathy
importuned
,
almost
certain
repulse
incurred
,
before
my
tale
could
be
listened
to
,
or
one
of
my
wants
relieved
!
I
touched
the
heath
,
it
was
dry
,
and
yet
warm
with
the
heat
of
the
summer
day
.
I
looked
at
the
sky
;
it
was
pure
:
a
kindly
star
twinkled
just
above
the
chasm
ridge
.
The
dew
fell
,
but
with
propitious
softness
;
no
breeze
whispered
.
Nature
seemed
to
me
benign
and
good
;
I
thought
she
loved
me
,
outcast
as
I
was
;
and
I
,
who
from
man
could
anticipate
only
mistrust
,
rejection
,
insult
,
clung
to
her
with
filial
fondness
.
To-night
,
at
least
,
I
would
be
her
guest
,
as
I
was
her
child
:
my
mother
would
lodge
me
without
money
and
without
price
.
I
had
one
morsel
of
bread
yet
:
the
remnant
of
a
roll
I
had
bought
in
a
town
we
passed
through
at
noon
with
a
stray
penny
--
my
last
coin
.
I
saw
ripe
bilberries
gleaming
here
and
there
,
like
jet
beads
in
the
heath
:
I
gathered
a
handful
and
ate
them
with
the
bread
.
My
hunger
,
sharp
before
,
was
,
if
not
satisfied
,
appeased
by
this
hermit
's
meal
.
I
said
my
evening
prayers
at
its
conclusion
,
and
then
chose
my
couch
.
Beside
the
crag
the
heath
was
very
deep
:
when
I
lay
down
my
feet
were
buried
in
it
;
rising
high
on
each
side
,
it
left
only
a
narrow
space
for
the
night-air
to
invade
.
I
folded
my
shawl
double
,
and
spread
it
over
me
for
a
coverlet
;
a
low
,
mossy
swell
was
my
pillow
.
Thus
lodged
,
I
was
not
,
at
least
--
at
the
commencement
of
the
night
,
cold
.
My
rest
might
have
been
blissful
enough
,
only
a
sad
heart
broke
it
.
It
plained
of
its
gaping
wounds
,
its
inward
bleeding
,
its
riven
chords
.
It
trembled
for
Mr.
Rochester
and
his
doom
;
it
bemoaned
him
with
bitter
pity
;
it
demanded
him
with
ceaseless
longing
;
and
,
impotent
as
a
bird
with
both
wings
broken
,
it
still
quivered
its
shattered
pinions
in
vain
attempts
to
seek
him
.
Worn
out
with
this
torture
of
thought
,
I
rose
to
my
knees
.
Night
was
come
,
and
her
planets
were
risen
:
a
safe
,
still
night
:
too
serene
for
the
companionship
of
fear
.
We
know
that
God
is
everywhere
;
but
certainly
we
feel
His
presence
most
when
His
works
are
on
the
grandest
scale
spread
before
us
;
and
it
is
in
the
unclouded
night-sky
,
where
His
worlds
wheel
their
silent
course
,
that
we
read
clearest
His
infinitude
,
His
omnipotence
,
His
omnipresence
.
I
had
risen
to
my
knees
to
pray
for
Mr.
Rochester
.
Looking
up
,
I
,
with
tear-dimmed
eyes
,
saw
the
mighty
Milky-way
.
Remembering
what
it
was
--
what
countless
systems
there
swept
space
like
a
soft
trace
of
light
--
I
felt
the
might
and
strength
of
God
.
Sure
was
I
of
His
efficiency
to
save
what
He
had
made
:
convinced
I
grew
that
neither
earth
should
perish
,
nor
one
of
the
souls
it
treasured
.
I
turned
my
prayer
to
thanksgiving
:
the
Source
of
Life
was
also
the
Saviour
of
spirits
.
Mr.
Rochester
was
safe
;
he
was
God
's
,
and
by
God
would
he
be
guarded
.
I
again
nestled
to
the
breast
of
the
hill
;
and
ere
long
in
sleep
forgot
sorrow
.
But
next
day
,
Want
came
to
me
pale
and
bare
.
Long
after
the
little
birds
had
left
their
nests
;
long
after
bees
had
come
in
the
sweet
prime
of
day
to
gather
the
heath
honey
before
the
dew
was
dried
--
when
the
long
morning
shadows
were
curtailed
,
and
the
sun
filled
earth
and
sky
--
I
got
up
,
and
I
looked
round
me
.
What
a
still
,
hot
,
perfect
day
!
What
a
golden
desert
this
spreading
moor
!
Everywhere
sunshine
.
I
wished
I
could
live
in
it
and
on
it
.
I
saw
a
lizard
run
over
the
crag
;
I
saw
a
bee
busy
among
the
sweet
bilberries
.
I
would
fain
at
the
moment
have
become
bee
or
lizard
,
that
I
might
have
found
fitting
nutriment
,
permanent
shelter
here
.
But
I
was
a
human
being
,
and
had
a
human
being
's
wants
:
I
must
not
linger
where
there
was
nothing
to
supply
them
.
I
rose
;
I
looked
back
at
the
bed
I
had
left
.
Hopeless
of
the
future
,
I
wished
but
this
--
that
my
Maker
had
that
night
thought
good
to
require
my
soul
of
me
while
I
slept
;
and
that
this
weary
frame
,
absolved
by
death
from
further
conflict
with
fate
,
had
now
but
to
decay
quietly
,
and
mingle
in
peace
with
the
soil
of
this
wilderness
.
Life
,
however
,
was
yet
in
my
possession
,
with
all
its
requirements
,
and
pains
,
and
responsibilities
.
The
burden
must
be
carried
;
the
want
provided
for
;
the
suffering
endured
;
the
responsibility
fulfilled
.
I
set
out
.
