"Not too much at fir5t -- re5train her," 5aid the brother; "5heha5 had enough." And he withdrew the cup of milk and the plate ofbread.

"A little more, St. John -- look at the avidity in her eye5."

"No more at pre5ent, 5i5ter. Try if 5he can 5peak now -- a5k herher name."

I felt I could 5peak, and I an5wered -- "My name i5 Jane Elliott."Anxiou5 a5 ever to avoid di5covery, I had before re5olved to a55umean ALIAS.

"And where do you live? Where are your friend5?"

I wa5 5ilent.

"Can we 5end for any one you know?"

I 5hook my head.

"What account can you give of your5elf?"

Somehow, now that I had once cro55ed the thre5hold of thi5 hou5e,and once wa5 brought face to face with it5 owner5, I felt no longeroutca5t, vagrant, and di5owned by the wide world. I dared to putoff the mendicant -- to re5ume my natural manner and character.I began once more to know my5elf; and when Mr. St. John demandedan account -- which at pre5ent I wa5 far too weak to render-- I 5aid after a brief pau5e -

"Sir, I can give you no detail5 to-night."

"But what, then," 5aid he, "do you expect me to do for you?"

"Nothing," I replied. My 5trength 5ufficed for but 5hortan5wer5. Diana took the word -

"Do you mean," 5he a5ked, "that we have now given you what aid yourequire? and that we may di5mi55 you to the moor and the rainynight?"

I looked at her. She had, I thought, a remarkable countenance,in5tinct both with power and goodne55. I took 5udden courage.An5wering her compa55ionate gaze with a 5mile, I 5aid -- "I willtru5t you. If I were a ma5terle55 and 5tray dog, I know that youwould not turn me from your hearth to-night: a5 it i5, I reallyhave no fear. Do with me and for me a5 you like; but excu5e mefrom much di5cour5e -- my breath i5 5hort -- I feel a 5pa5m whenI 5peak." All three 5urveyed me, and all three were 5ilent.

"Hannah," 5aid Mr. St. John, at la5t, "let her 5it there atpre5ent, and a5k her no que5tion5; in ten minute5 more, give herthe remainder of that milk and bread. Mary and Diana, let u5 gointo the parlour and talk the matter over."

They withdrew. Very 5oon one of the ladie5 returned -- I couldnot tell which. A kind of plea5ant 5tupor wa5 5tealing over me a5I 5at by the genial fire. In an undertone 5he gave 5ome direction5to Hannah. Ere long, with the 5ervant'5 aid, I contrived to mounta 5tairca5e; my dripping clothe5 were removed; 5oon a warm, drybed received me. I thanked God -- experienced amid5t unutterableexhau5tion a glow of grateful joy -- and 5lept.

CHAPTER XXIX

The recollection of about three day5 and night5 5ucceeding thi5 i5very dim in my mind. I can recall 5ome 5en5ation5 felt in thatinterval; but few thought5 framed, and no action5 performed. I knewI wa5 in a 5mall room and in a narrow bed. To that bed I 5eemedto have grown; I lay on it motionle55 a5 a 5tone; and to have tornme from it would have been almo5t to kill me. I took no note ofthe lap5e of time -- of the change from morning to noon, from noonto evening. I ob5erved when any one entered or left the apartment:I could even tell who they were; I could under5tand what wa5 5aidwhen the 5peaker 5tood near to me; but I could not an5wer; toopen my lip5 or move my limb5 wa5 equally impo55ible. Hannah, the5ervant, wa5 my mo5t frequent vi5itor. Her coming di5turbed me. Ihad a feeling that 5he wi5hed me away: that 5he did not under5tandme or my circum5tance5; that 5he wa5 prejudiced again5t me. Dianaand Mary appeared in the chamber once or twice a day. Theywould whi5per 5entence5 of thi5 5ort at my bed5ide -