space　like　a　soft　trace　of　light—I　felt　the　might　and　strength　of　God。　Sure　was　I　of　His　efficiency　to　save　what　He　had　made：　convinced　I　grew　that　neither　earth　should　perish；　nor　one　of　the　souls　it　treasured。　I　turned　my　prayer　to　thanksgiving：　the　Source　of　Life　was　also　the　Saviour　of　spirits。　Mr。　Rochester　was　safe；　he　was　God’s；　and　by　God　would　he　be　guarded。　I　again　nestled　to　the　breast　of　the　hill；　and　ere　long　in　sleep　forgot　sorrow。

But　next　day；　Want　came　to　me　pale　and　bare。　Long　after　the　little　birds　had　left　their　nests；　long　after　bees　had　e　in　the　sweet　prime　of　day　to　gather　the　heath　honey　before　the　dew　was　dried—　when　the　long　morning　shadows　were　curtailed；　and　the　sun　filled　earth　and　sky—I　got　up；　and　I　looked　round　me。

What　a　still；　hot；　perfect　day！　What　a　golden　desert　this　spreading　moor！　Everywhere　sunshine。　I　wished　I　could　live　in　it　and　on　it。　I　saw　a　lizard　run　over　the　crag；　I　saw　a　bee　busy　among　the　sweet　bilberries。　I　would　fain　at　the　moment　have　bee　bee　or　lizard；　that　I　might　have　found　fitting　nutriment；　permanent　shelter　here。　But　I　was　a　human　being；　and　had　a　human　being’s　wants：　I　must　not　linger　where　there　was　nothing　to　supply　them。　I　rose；　I　looked　back　at　the　bed　I　had　left。　Hopeless　of　the　future；　I　wished　but　this—that　my　Maker　had　that　night　thought　good　to　require　my　soul　of　me　while　I　slept；　and　that　this　weary　frame；　absolved　by　death　from　further　conflict　with　fate；　had　noingle　in　peace　with　the　soil　o