"Here，Jane!" he said; and I walked round to the other side of a large bed，which with its drawn curtains concealed a considerable portion of the chamber. An easy-chair was near the bed-head: a man sat in it，dressed with the exception of his coat; he was still; his head leant back; his eyes were closed. Mr. Rochester held the candle over him; I recognised in his pale and seemingly lifeless face- the stranger，Mason: I saw too that his linen on one side and one arm，was almost soaked in blood.

"Hold the candle," said Mr. Rochester，and I took it: he fetched a basin of water from the washstand: "Hold that," said he. I obeyed.

He took the sponge，dipped it in，and moistened the corpse-like face; he asked for my smelling-bottle，and applied it to the nostrils.

Mr. Mason shortly unclosed his eyes; he groaned. Mr. Rochester opened the shirt of the wounded man，whose arm and shoulder were bandaged: he sponged away blood，trickling fast down.

"Is there immediate danger?" murmured Mr. Mason.

"pooh! No- a mere scratch. Don"t be so overe，man: bear up! I"ll fetch a surgeon for you now，myself: you"ll be able to be removed by morning，I hope. Jane," he continued.

"Sir?"

"I shall have to leave you in this room with this gentleman，for an hour，or perhaps two hours: you will sponge the blood as I do when it returns: if he feels faint，you will put the glass of water on that stand to his lips，and your salts to his nose. You will not speak to him on any pretext- and- Richard，it will be at the peril of your life if you speak to her: open your lips- agitate yourself- and I"ll not answer for the consequences."

Again the poor man groaned; he looked as if he dared not move; fear，either of death or of something else，appeared almost to paralyse him. Mr. Rochester put the now bloody sponge into my hand，and I proceeded to use it as he had done. He watched me a second，then saying，"Remember!- No conversation," he left the room. I experienced a strange feeling as the key grated in the lock，and the sound of his retreating step ceased to be heard.