As he came down the great staircase at last, after Mrs. Rochester had flung herself from the battlements,
there was a great crash -- all fell.
He was taken out from under the ruins, alive, but sadly hurt:
a beam had fallen in such a way as to protect him partly;
but one eye was knocked out, and one hand so crushed that Mr. Carter, the surgeon, had to amputate it directly.
The other eye inflamed: he lost the sight of that also.
He is now helpless, indeed -- blind and a cripple."
"Where is he? Where does he now live?"
"At Ferndean, a manor-house on a farm he has, about thirty miles off: quite a desolate spot."
"Who is with him?"
"Old John and his wife: he would have none else.
He is quite broken down, they say."
"Have you any sort of conveyance?"
"We have a chaise, ma'am, a very handsome chaise."
"Let it be got ready instantly; and if your post-boy can drive me to Ferndean before dark this day,
I'll pay both you and him twice the hire you usually demand."