。　My　hunger；　sharp　before；　was；　if　not　satisfied；　appeased　by　this　hermit’s　meal。　I　said　my　evening　prayers　at　its　conclusion；　and　then　chose　my　couch。

Beside　the　crag　the　heath　was　very　deep：　when　I　lay　down　my　feet　were　buried　in　it；　rising　high　on　each　side；　it　left　only　a　narrow　space　for　the　night…air　to　invade。　I　folded　my　shawl　double；　and　spread　it　over　me　for　a　coverlet；　a　low；　mossy　swell　was　my　pillow。　Thus　lodged；　I　was　not；　at　least—at　the　mencement　of　the　night；　cold。

My　rest　might　have　been　blissful　enough；　only　a　sad　heart　broke　it。　It　plained　of　its　gaping　wounds；　its　inward　bleeding；　its　riven　chords。　It　trembled　for　Mr。　Rochester　and　his　doom；　it　bemoaned　him　with　bitter　pity；　it　demanded　him　with　ceaseless　longing；　and；　impotent　as　a　bird　with　both　wings　broken；　it　still　quivered　its　shattered　pinions　in　vain　attempts　to　seek　him。

Worn　out　with　this　torture　of　thought；　I　rose　to　my　knees。　Night　was　e；　and　her　plas　were　risen：　a　safe；　still　night：　too　serene　for　the　panionship　of　fear。　We　know　that　God　is　everywhere；　but　certainly　we　feel　His　presence　most　when　His　works　are　on　the　grandest　scale　spread　before　us；　and　it　is　in　the　unclouded　night…sky；　where　His　worlds　wheel　their　silent　course；　that　we　read　clearest　His　infinitude；　His　omnipotence；　His　omnipresence。　I　had　risen　to　my　knees　to　pray　for　Mr。　Rochester。　Looking　up；　I；　with　tear…dimmed　eyes；　saw　the　mighty　Milky…way。　Remembering　what　it　was—what　countless　systems　there　swept