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