d　stand　by　the　door；　out　of　the　way　of　the　mirror　and　the　windows。”

I　did　so；　not　at　first　aware　what　was　his　intention；　but　when　I　saw　him　lift　and　poise　the　book　and　stand　in　act　to　hurl　it；　I　instinctively　started　aside　with　a　cry　of　alarm：　not　soon　enough；　however；　the　volume　was　flung；　it　hit　me；　and　I　fell；　striking　my　head　against　the　door　and　cutting　it。　The　cut　bled；　the　pain　was　sharp：　my　terror　had　passed　its　climax；　other　feelings　succeeded。

“Wicked　and　cruel　boy！”　I　said。　“You　are　like　a　murderer—you　are　like　a　slave…driver—you　are　like　the　Roman　emperors！”

I　had　read　Goldsmith’s　History　of　Rome；　and　had　formed　my　opinion　of　Nero；　Caligula；　&c。　Also　I　had　drawn　parallels　in　silence；　which　I　never　thought　thus　to　have　declared　aloud。

“What！　what！”　he　cried。　“Did　she　say　that　to　me？　Did　you　hear　her；　Eliza　and　Georgiana？　Won’t　I　tell　mama？　but　first—”

He　ran　headlong　at　me：　I　felt　him　grasp　my　hair　and　my　shoulder：　he　had　closed　with　a　desperate　thing。　I　really　saw　in　him　a　tyrant；　a　murderer。　I　felt　a　drop　or　two　of　blood　from　my　head　trickle　down　my　neck；　and　was　sensible　of　somewhat　pungent　suffering：　these　sensations　for　the　time　predominated　over　fear；　and　I　received　him　in　frantic　sort。　I　don’t　very　well　know　what　I　did　with　my　hands；　but　he　called　me　“Rat！　Rat！”　and　bellowed　out　aloud。　Aid　was　near　him：　Eliza　and　Georgiana　had　run　for　Mrs。　Reed；　who　was　gone　upstairs：　she　now　came　upon　the　scene；　followed　by　Bessie　and　her　maid　Abbot。　We　were　parted：　I　heard　the　words—

“Dear！　dear！　What　a　fury　to　fly　at　Master　John！”

“Did　ever　anybody　see　such　a　picture　of　passion！”

Then　Mrs。　Reed　subjoined—

“Take　her　away　to　the　red…room；　and　lock　her　in　there。”　Four　hands　were　immediately　laid　upon　me；　an