Jane Eyre, Part 1 of 34
The Sleepy Bookshelf
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Moonlight, a Ray From the Moon
A light gleamed on the wall. Was it, i asked myself, a ray from the moon penetrating some aperture in the blind? No. While i gazed, it glided up to the ceiling and quivered over my head. I can now conjecture readily that this streak of light was, in all likelihood, a gleam from a lantern carried by some one across the lawn. But then, prepared my mind was for horror. My heart beat thick. My head grew hot. With all my might, i endeavoured to stifle it.
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