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"Just tell me this," said I, "and since you know so much, you surely

can tell it me--what of Mr Rochester? How and where is he? What

is he doing? Is he well?"

"I a Mr Rochester: the letter never

al attempt I

have adverted to You should rather ask the naoverness--

the nature of the event which requires her appearance"

"Did no one go to Thornfield Hall, then? Did no one see Mr

Rochester?"

"I suppose not"

"But they wrote to him?"

"Of course"

"And what did he say? Who has his letters?"

"Mr Briggs intimates that the answer to his application was not

froned 'Alice Fairfax'"

I felt cold and dismayed: my worst fears then were probably true:

he had in all probability left England and rushed in reckless

desperation to some former haunt on the Continent And what opiate

for his severe sufferings--what object for his strong passions--had

he sought there? I dared not answer the question Oh, my poor