When I got there, I was forced to sit to rest me under the hedge;

and while I sat, I heard wheels, and saw a coach come on. I stood

up and lifted my hand; it stopped. I asked where it was going: the

driver named a place a long way off, and where I was sure Mr.

Rochester had no connections. I asked for what sum he would take me

there; he said thirty shillings; I answered I had but twenty; well,

he would try to make it do. He further gave me leave to get into

the inside, as the vehicle was empty: I entered, was shut in, and

it rolled on its way.

Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes

never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from

mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so

agonised as in that hour left my lips; for never may you, like me,

dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.




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