I had set that night. A dream between _Wuthering out on my way home, had scarcely Heights_ and _Jane with Joseph for a approached my ear Eyre_. The trio will guide. The snow lay when it fled be resumed in perfect yards deep in our affrighted.... There sequence after road. We came to a was a demonia laugh Montagu has rested a chapel.... Presently ... at my chamber few bars in the the whole chapel door.... I thought introduction. My resounded with the goblin laughter reader will note with rappings and stood at my sensational interest, counter-rappings; ... bedside.... Something I am sure, that in at last, to my ... moaned. "Was that both of Charlotte unspeakable relief, Grace Poole?" [the Brontë's they awoke me.... thick-set servant] introductions to the What ... had thought I.... There appearance of the suggested the tumult? was a candle burning candle-bearing, ... the branch of a outside. frenzied, bedside fir-tree that touched apparition, the my lattice as the separate narrators blast wailed by.... Chapter XXV. tell us that a gale is blowing; that I dreamt again, if ... After I went to they dreamed most possible still more bed I could not disagreeably twice. disagreeably than sleep--a sense of The first dream being before.... I heard anxious excitement in each instance that the gusty wind, ... I depressed me. The of journeying upon an thought I rose ... to gale still rising unknown road, and the unhasp the casement. seemed to my ear to second dream that of "I must stop [the fir muffle a ... doleful an unknown ice-cold bough's teasing undersound.... During little child (always sound]," I muttered, my first sleep I was referred to in the knocking my hand following the neuter "it"), which through the glass and windings of an "wailed piteously" stretching an arm out unknown road; ... and "clung" to the to seize the ... rain pelted me; I was narrators in branch; instead of burdened with the "terror," intense which my fingers charge of a little horror being closed on the fingers child--a very small accentuated by their of an ice-cold hand! creature, ... which being unable to rid The intense horror of shivered in my cold themselves of the nightmare came over arms and wailed clinging, shivering me: I tried to draw piteously in my ear. small "creature," as back my arm, but the Charlotte Brontë hand clung to it, and I dreamt another calls "it." The a most melancholy dream.... I still "doleful" moaning and voice sobbed.... I carried the unknown