Oh! I could not forget his look and his paleness when he whispered:

"Jane, I have got a blow--I have got a blow, Jane." I could not

forget how the arm had trembled which he rested on my shoulder: and

it was no light matter which could thus bow the resolute spirit and

thrill the vigorous frame of Fairfax Rochester.

"When will he come? When will he come?" I cried inwardly, as the

night lingered and lingered--as my bleeding patient drooped, moaned,

sickened: and neither day nor aid arrived. I had, again and again,

held the water to Mason's white lips; again and again offered him

the stimulating salts: my efforts seemed ineffectual: either

bodily or mental suffering, or loss of blood, or all three combined,

were fast prostrating his strength. He moaned so, and looked so

weak, wild, and lost, I feared he was dying; ant I might not even

speak to him.

The candle, wasted at last, went out; as it expired, I perceived

streaks of grey light edging the window curtains: dawn was then

approaching. Presently I heard Pilot bark far below, out of his

distant kennel in the courtyard: hope revived. Nor was it

unwarranted: in five minutes more the grating key, the yielding

lock, warned me my watch was relieved. It could not have lasted

more than two hours: many a week has seemed shorter.

Mr. Rochester entered, and with him the surgeon he had been to

fetch.

"Now, Carter, be on the alert," he said to this last: "I give you

but half-an-hour for dressing the wound, fastening the bandages,

getting the patient downstairs and all."

"But is he fit to move, sir?"

"No doubt of it; it is nothing serious; he is nervous, his spirits

must be kept up. Come, set to work."

Mr. Rochester drew back the thick curtain, drew up the holland

blind, let in all the daylight he could; and I was surprised and

cheered to see how far dawn was advanced: what rosy streaks were

beginning to brighten the east. Then he approached Mason, whom the

surgeon was already handling.

"Now, my good fellow, how are you?" he asked.

"She's done for me, I fear," was the faint reply.

"Not a whit!--courage! This day fortnight you'll hardly be a pin

the worse of it: you've lost a little blood; that's all Carter,

assure him there's no danger."

"I can do that conscientiously," said Carter, who had now undone the

bandages; "only I wish I could have got here sooner: he would not

have bled so much--but how is this? The flesh on the shoulder is

torn as well as cut. This wound was not done with a knife: there

have been teeth here!"




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