I had fotten to draw my curtain, which I usually did, and also to let down my window-blind. The sequence was, that when the moon, which was full and bright (for the night was fine), came in her course to that spa the sky opposite my casement, and looked in at me through the unveiled panes, her glorious gaze roused me. Awaking in the dead of night, I opened my eyes on her disk—silver- white and crystal clear. It was beautiful, but too solemn; I half rose, and stretched my arm to draw the curtain.
Good God! What a cry!
The night—its siles rest, was rent in twain by a savage, a sharp, a shrilly sound that ran from end to end of Thornfield Hall.
My pulse stopped: my heart stood still; my stretched arm aralysed. The cry died, and was not renewed. Indeed, whatever being uttered that fearful shriek could not soo it: not the widest-winged dor on the Andes could, twi succession, send out such a yell from the cloud shrouding his eyrie. The thing delivering such……（内容加载失败！）
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