CHAPTER XX 262
" And dressed ?"
" Yes ." " Come out , then , quietly ." I obeyed . Mr . Rochester stood in the gallery holding a light . " I want you ," he said : " come this way : take your time , and make no noise ."
My slippers were thin : I could walk the matted floor as softly as a cat . He glided up the gallery and up the stairs , and stopped in the dark , low corridor of the fateful third storey : I had followed and stood at his side .
" Have you a sponge in your room ?" he asked in a whisper . " Yes , sir ." " Have you any salts -- volatile salts ?" " Yes ." " Go back and fetch both ."
I returned , sought the sponge on the washstand , the salts in my drawer , and once more retraced my steps . He still waited ; he held a key in his hand : approaching one of the small , black doors , he put it in the lock ; he paused , and addressed me again .
" You don ' t turn sick at the sight of blood ?" " I think I shall not : I have never been tried yet ." I felt a thrill while I answered him ; but no coldness , and no faintness . " Just give me your hand ," he said : " it will not do to risk a fainting fit ."