"Farewell，kind Mrs. Fairfax!" I whispered，as I glided past her door. "Farewell，my darling Adele! I said，as I glanced towards the nursery. No thought could be admitted of entering to embrace her. I had to deceive a fine ear: for aught I knew it might now be listening.

I would have got past Mr. Rochester"s chamber without a pause; but my heart momentarily stopping its beat at that threshold，my foot was forced to stop also. No sleep was there: the inmate was walking restlessly from wall to wall; and again and again he sighed while I listened. There was a heaven- a temporary heaven- in this room for me，if I chose: I had but to go in and to say-

"Mr. Rochester，I will love you and live with you through life till death," and a fount of rapture would spring to my lips. I thought of this.

That kind master，who could not sleep now，was waiting with impatience for day. He would send for me in the morning; I should be gone. He would have me sought for: vainly. He would feel himself forsaken; his love rejected: he would suffer; perhaps grow desperate. I thought of this too. My hand moved towards the lock: I caught it back，and glided on.

Drearily I wound my way downstairs: I knew what I had to do，and I did it mechanically. I sought the key of the side-door in the kitchen; I sought，too，a phial of oil and a feather; I oiled the key and the lock. I got some water，I got some bread: for perhaps I should have to walk far; and my strength，sorely shaken of late，must not break down. All this I did without one sound. I opened the door，passed out，shut it softly. Dim dawn glimmered in the yard.

The great gates were closed and locked; but a wicket in one of them was only latched. Through that I departed: it，too，I shut; and now I was out of Thornfield.

A mile off，beyond the fields，lay a road which stretched in the contrary direction to Millcote; a road I had never travelled，but often noticed，and wondered where it led: thither I bent my steps.