I have just returned from a visit to my landlord
-- the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly
a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have
fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A
perfect misanthropist's heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable
pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined
how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so
suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered
themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat,
as I announced my name.
'Mr. Heathcliff?' I said.
A nod was the answer.
'Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself
the honour of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express
the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting
the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some
thoughts ----'
'Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,' he interrupted,
wincing. 'I should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder
it -- walk in!'
The 'walk in' was uttered with closed teeth, and
expressed the sentiment, 'Go to the Deuce:' even the gate over which he
leant manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think that
circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested
in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself.
When he saw my horse's breast fairly pushing the
barrier, he did put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded
me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court, -- 'Joseph, take
Mr. Lockwood's horse; and bring up some wine.'
'Here we have the whole establishment of domestics,
I suppose,' was the reflection suggested by this compound order. 'No wonder
the grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge- cutters.'
Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old,
perhaps, though hale and sinewy. 'The Lord help us!' he soliloquised in
an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking,
meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have
need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had
no reference to my unexpected advent.
Wuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliff's
dwelling. 'Wuthering' being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive
of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather.
Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed:
one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the
excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a
range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving
alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong:
the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended
with large jutting stones.
Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire
a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially
about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling
griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date '1500,' and the
name 'Hareton Earnshaw.' I would have made a few comments, and requested
a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at
the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure,
and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting
the penetralium.
One stop brought us into the family sitting-room,
without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here 'the house'
pre- eminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe
at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another
quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of
culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling,
or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans
and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly
both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with
silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser,
to the very roof. The latter had never been under-drawn: its entire anatomy
lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes
and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the
chimney were sundry villainous old guns, and a couple of horse-pistols:
and, by way of ornament, three gaudily-painted canisters disposed along
its ledge. The floor was of smooth, white stone; the chairs, high-backed,
primitive structures, painted green: one or two heavy black ones lurking
in the shade. In an arch under the dresser reposed a huge, liver-coloured
bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs
haunted other recesses.
The apartment and furniture would have been nothing
extraordinary as belonging to a homely, northern farmer, with a stubborn
countenance, and stalwart limbs set out to advantage in knee- breeches
and gaiters. Such an individual seated in his arm-chair, his mug of ale
frothing on the round table before him, is to be seen in any circuit of
five or six miles among these hills, if you go at the right time after
dinner. But Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style
of living. He is a dark- skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners
a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather
slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he
has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose. Possibly, some people
might suspect him of a degree of under-bred pride; I have a sympathetic
chord within that tells me it is nothing of the sort: I know, by instinct,
his reserve springs from an aversion to showy displays of feeling -- to
manifestations of mutual kindliness. He'll love and hate equally under
cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to be loved or hated again.
No, I'm running on too fast: I bestow my own attributes over-liberally
on him. Mr. Heathcliff may have entirely dissimilar reasons for keeping
his hand out of the way when he meets a would-be acquaintance, to those
which actuate me. Let me hope my constitution is almost peculiar: my dear
mother used to say I should never have a comfortable home; and only last
summer I proved myself perfectly unworthy of one.
While enjoying a month of fine weather at the sea-coast,
I was thrown into the company of a most fascinating creature: a real goddess
in my eyes, as long as she took no notice of me. I 'never told my love'
vocally; still, if looks have language, the merest idiot might have guessed
I was over head and ears: she understood me at last, and looked a return
-- the sweetest of all imaginable looks. And what did I do? I confess it
with shame -- shrunk icily into myself, like a snail; at every glance retired
colder and farther; till finally the poor innocent was led to doubt her
own senses, and, overwhelmed with confusion at her supposed mistake, persuaded
her mamma to decamp. By this curious turn of disposition I have gained
the reputation of deliberate heartlessness; how undeserved, I alone can
appreciate.
I took a seat at the end of the hearthstone opposite
that towards which my landlord advanced, and filled up an interval of silence
by attempting to caress the canine mother, who had left her nursery, and
was sneaking wolfishly to the back of my legs, her lip curled up, and her
white teeth watering for a snatch. My caress provoked a long, guttural
gnarl.
'You'd better let the dog alone,' growled Mr. Heathcliff
in unison, checking fiercer demonstrations with a punch of his foot. 'She's
not accustomed to be spoiled -- not kept for a pet.' Then, striding to
a side door, he shouted again, 'Joseph!'
Joseph mumbled indistinctly in the depths of the
cellar, but gave no intimation of ascending; so his master dived down to
him, leaving me vis-à-vis the ruffianly bitch and a pair
of grim shaggy sheep-dogs, who shared with her a jealous guardianship over
all my movements. Not anxious to come in contact with their fangs, I sat
still; but, imagining they would scarcely understand tacit insults, I unfortunately
indulged in winking and making faces at the trio, and some turn of my physiognomy
so irritated madam, that she suddenly broke into a fury and leapt on my
knees. I flung her back, and hastened to interpose the table between us.
This proceeding aroused the whole hive: half-a-dozen four-footed fiends,
of various sizes and ages, issued from hidden dens to the common centre.
I felt my heels and coat-laps peculiar subjects of assault; and parrying
off the larger combatants as effectually as I could with the poker, I was
constrained to demand, aloud, assistance from some of the household in
re-establishing peace.
Mr. Heathcliff and his man climbed the cellar steps
with vexatious phlegm: I don't think they moved one second faster than
usual, though the hearth was an absolute tempest of worrying and yelping.
Happily, an inhabitant of the kitchen made more despatch: a lusty dame,
with tucked-up gown, bare arms, and fire-flushed cheeks, rushed into the
midst of us flourishing a frying-pan: and used that weapon, and her tongue,
to such purpose, that the storm subsided magically, and she only remained,
heaving like a sea after a high wind, when her master entered on the scene.
'What the devil is the matter?' he asked, eyeing
me in a manner that I could ill endure, after this inhospitable treatment.
'What the devil, indeed!' I muttered. 'The herd of
possessed swine could have had no worse spirits in them than those animals
of yours, sir. You might as well leave a stranger with a brood of tigers!'
'They won't meddle with persons who touch nothing,'
he remarked, putting the bottle before me, and restoring the displaced
table. 'The dogs do right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine?'
'No, thank you.'
'Not bitten, are you?'
'If I had been, I would have set my signet on the
biter.' Heathcliff's countenance relaxed into a grin.
'Come, come,' he said, 'you are flurried, Mr. Lockwood.
Here, take a little wine. Guests are so exceedingly rare in this house
that I and my dogs, I am willing to own, hardly know how to receive them.
Your health, sir?'
I bowed and returned the pledge; beginning to perceive
that it would be foolish to sit sulking for the misbehaviour of a pack
of curs; besides, I felt loth to yield the fellow further amusement at
my expense; since his humour took that turn. He -- probably swayed by prudential
consideration of the folly of offending a good tenant -- relaxed a little
in the laconic style of chipping off his pronouns and auxiliary verbs,
and introduced what he supposed would be a subject of interest to me, --
a discourse on the advantages and disadvantages of my present place of
retirement. I found him very intelligent on the topics we touched; and
before I went home, I was encouraged so far as to volunteer another visit
to-morrow. He evidently wished no repetition of my intrusion. I shall go,
notwithstanding. It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself compared
with him.
CHAPTER II
Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had
half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath
and mud to Wuthering Heights. On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.
-- I dine between twelve and one o'clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady,
taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend
my request that I might be served at five) -- on mounting the stairs with
this lazy intention, and stepping into the room, I saw a servant-girl on
her knees surrounded by brushes and coal-scuttles, and raising an infernal
dust as she extinguished the flames with heaps of cinders. This spectacle
drove me back immediately; I took my hat, and, after a four-miles' walk,
arrived at Heathcliff's garden-gate just in time to escape the first feathery
flakes of a snow-shower.
On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a
black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable
to remove the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged causeway
bordered with straggling gooseberry-bushes, knocked vainly for admittance,
till my knuckles tingled and the dogs howled.
'Wretched inmates!' I ejaculated, mentally, 'you
deserve perpetual isolation from your species for your churlish inhospitality.
At least, I would not keep my doors barred in the day-time. I don't care
-- I will get in!' So resolved, I grasped the latch and shook it vehemently.
Vinegar-faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn.
'What are ye for?' he shouted. 'T' maister's down
i' t' fowld. Go round by th' end o' t' laith, if ye went to spake to him.'
'Is there nobody inside to open the door?' I hallooed,
responsively.
'There's nobbut t' missis; and shoo'll not oppen
't an ye mak' yer flaysome dins till neeght.'
'Why? Cannot you tell her whom I am, eh, Joseph?'
'Nor-ne me! I'll hae no hend wi't,' muttered the
head, vanishing.
The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle
to essay another trial; when a young man without coat, and shouldering
a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and,
after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed,
pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm, cheerful
apartment where I was formerly received. It glowed delightfully in the
radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near
the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe
the 'missis,' an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected.
I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a seat. She looked at
me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute.
'Rough weather!' I remarked. 'I'm afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff,
the door must bear the consequence of your servants' leisure attendance:
I had hard work to make them hear me.'
She never opened her mouth. I stared -- she stared
also: at any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner,
exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable.
'Sit down,' said the young man, gruffly. 'He'll be
in soon.'
I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno,
who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail,
in token of owning my acquaintance.
'A beautiful animal!' I commenced again. 'Do you
intend parting with the little ones, madam?'
'They are not mine,' said the amiable hostess, more
repellingly than Heathcliff himself could have replied.
'Ah, your favourites are among these?' I continued,
turning to an obscure cushion full of something like cats.
'A strange choice of favourites!' she observed scornfully.
Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits. I hemmed
once more, and drew closer to the hearth, repeating my comment on the wildness
of the evening.
'You should not have come out,' she said, rising
and reaching from the chimney-piece two of the painted canisters.
Her position before was sheltered from the light;
now, I had a distinct view of her whole figure and countenance. She was
slender, and apparently scarcely past girlhood: an admirable form, and
the most exquisite little face that I have ever had the pleasure of beholding;
small features, very fair; flaxen ringlets, or rather golden, hanging loose
on her delicate neck; and eyes, had they been agreeable in expression,
that would have been irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible heart,
the only sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation,
singularly unnatural to be detected there. The canisters were almost out
of her reach; I made a motion to aid her; she turned upon me as a miser
might turn if any one attempted to assist him in counting his gold.
'I don't want your help,' she snapped; 'I can get
them for myself.'
'I beg your pardon!' I hastened to reply.
'Were you asked to tea?' she demanded, tying an apron
over her neat black frock, and standing with a spoonful of the leaf poised
over the pot.
'I shall be glad to have a cup,' I answered.
'Were you asked?' she repeated.
'No,' I said, half smiling. 'You are the proper person
to ask me.'
She flung the tea back, spoon and all, and resumed
her chair in a pet; her forehead corrugated, and her red under-lip pushed
out, like a child's ready to cry.
Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person
a decidedly shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze,
looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if
there were some mortal feud unavenged between us. I began to doubt whether
he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were both rude, entirely
devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick
brown curls were rough and uncultivated, his whiskers encroached bearishly
over his cheeks, and his hands were embrowned like those of a common labourer:
still his bearing was free, almost haughty, and he showed none of a domestic's
assiduity in attending on the lady of the house. In the absence of clear
proofs of his condition, I deemed it best to abstain from noticing his
curious conduct; and, five minutes afterwards, the entrance of Heathcliff
relieved me, in some measure, from my uncomfortable state.
'You see, sir, I am come, according to promise!'
I exclaimed, assuming the cheerful; 'and I fear I shall be weather-bound
for half an hour, if you can afford me shelter during that space.'
'Half an hour?' he said, shaking the white flakes
from his clothes; 'I wonder you should select the thick of a snow-storm
to ramble about in. Do you know that you run a risk of being lost in the
marshes? People familiar with these moors often miss their road on such
evenings; and I can tell you there is no chance of a change at present.'
'Perhaps I can get a guide among your lads, and he
might stay at the Grange till morning -- could you spare me one?'
'No, I could not.'
'Oh, indeed! Well, then, I must trust to my own sagacity.'
'Umph!'
'Are you going to mak' the tea?' demanded he of the
shabby coat, shifting his ferocious gaze from me to the young lady.
'Is he to have any?' she asked, appealing
to Heathcliff.
'Get it ready, will you?' was the answer, uttered
so savagely that I started. The tone in which the words were said revealed
a genuine bad nature. I no longer felt inclined to call Heathcliff a capital
fellow. When the preparations were finished, he invited me with -- 'Now,
sir, bring forward your chair.' And we all, including the rustic youth,
drew round the table: an austere silence prevailing while we discussed
our meal.
I thought, if I had caused the cloud, it was my duty
to make an effort to dispel it. They could not every day sit so grim and
taciturn; and it was impossible, however ill-tempered they might be, that
the universal scowl they wore was their every-day countenance.
'It is strange,' I began, in the interval of swallowing
one cup of tea and receiving another -- 'it is strange how custom can mould
our tastes and ideas: many could not imagine the existence of happiness
in a life of such complete exile from the world as you spend, Mr. Heathcliff;
yet, I'll venture to say, that, surrounded by your family, and with your
amiable lady as the presiding genius over your home and heart ----'
'My amiable lady!' he interrupted, with an almost
diabolical sneer on his face. 'Where is she -- my amiable lady?'
'Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean.'
'Well, yes -- oh, you would intimate that her spirit
has taken the post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering
Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?'
Perceiving myself in a blunder, I attempted to correct
it. I might have seen there was too great a disparity between the ages
of the parties to make it likely that they were man and wife. One was about
forty: a period of mental vigour at which men seldom cherish the delusion
of being married for love by girls: that dream is reserved for the solace
of our declining years. The other did not look seventeen.
Then it flashed on me -- 'The clown at my elbow,
who is drinking his tea out of a basin and eating his broad with unwashed
hands, may be her husband: Heathcliff junior, of course. Here is the consequence
of being buried alive: she has thrown herself away upon that boor from
sheer ignorance that better individuals existed! A sad pity -- I must beware
how I cause her to regret her choice.' The last reflection may seem conceited;
it was not. My neighbour struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew, through
experience, that I was tolerably attractive.
'Mrs. Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law,' said Heathcliff,
corroborating my surmise. He turned, as he spoke, a peculiar look in her
direction: a look of hatred; unless he has a most perverse set of facial
muscles that will not, like those of other people, interpret the language
of his soul.
'Ah, certainly -- I see now: you are the favoured
possessor of the beneficent fairy,' I remarked, turning to my neighbour.
This was worse than before: the youth grew crimson,
and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But
he seemed to recollect himself presently, and smothered the storm in a
brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to
notice.
'Unhappy in your conjectures, sir,' observed my host;
'we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy; her mate
is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law: therefore, she must have married
my son.'
'And this young man is ----'
'Not my son, assuredly.'
Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too
bold a jest to attribute the paternity of that bear to him.
'My name is Hareton Earnshaw,' growled the other;
'and I'd counsel you to respect it!'
'I've shown no disrespect,' was my reply, laughing
internally at the dignity with which he announced himself.
He fixed his eye on me longer than I cared to return
the stare, for fear I might be tempted either to box his ears or render
my hilarity audible. I began to feel unmistakably out of place in that
pleasant family circle. The dismal spiritual atmosphere overcame, and more
than neutralised, the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved
to be cautious how I ventured under those rafters a third time.
The business of eating being concluded, and no one
uttering a word of sociable conversation, I approached a window to examine
the weather. A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely,
and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow.
'I don't think it possible for me to get home now
without a guide,' I could not help exclaiming. 'The roads will be buried
already; and, if they were bare, I could scarcely distinguish a foot in
advance.'
'Hareton, drive those dozen sheep into the barn porch.
They'll be covered if left in the fold all night: and put a plank before
them,' said Heathcliff.
'How must I do?' I continued, with rising irritation.
There was no reply to my question; and on looking
round I saw only Joseph bringing in a pail of porridge for the dogs, and
Mrs. Heathcliff leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a
bundle of matches which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored
the tea-canister to its place. The former, when he had deposited his burden,
took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out:
'Aw wonder how yah can faishion to stand thear i'
idleness un war, when all on 'ems goan out! Bud yah're a nowt, and it's
no use talking - yah'll niver mend o'yer ill ways, but goa raight to t'
divil, like yer mother afore ye!'
I imagined, for a moment, that this piece of eloquence
was addressed to me; and, sufficiently enraged, stepped towards the aged
rascal with an intention of kicking him out of the door. Mrs. Heathcliff,
however, checked me by her answer.
'You scandalous old hypocrite!' she replied. 'Are
you not afraid of being carried away bodily, whenever you mention the devil's
name? I warn you to refrain from provoking me, or I'll ask your abduction
as a special favour! Stop! look here, Joseph,' she continued, taking a
long, dark book from a shelf; 'I'll show you how far I've progressed in
the Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a clear house of it. The
red cow didn't die by chance; and your rheumatism can hardly be reckoned
among providential visitations!'
'Oh, wicked, wicked!' gasped the elder; 'may the
Lord deliver us from evil!'
'No, reprobate! you are a castaway -- be off, or
I'll hurt you seriously! I'll have you all modelled in wax and clay! and
the first who passes the limits I fix shall -- I'll not say what he shall
be done to -- but, you'll see! Go, I'm looking at you!'
The little witch put a mock malignity into her beautiful
eyes, and Joseph, trembling with sincere horror, hurried out, praying,
and ejaculating 'wicked' as he went. I thought her conduct must be prompted
by a species of dreary fun; and, now that we were alone, I endeavoured
to interest her in my distress.
'Mrs. Heathcliff,' I said earnestly, 'you must excuse
me for troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I'm sure you
cannot help being good-hearted. Do point out some landmarks by which I
may know my way home: I have no more idea how to get there than you would
have how to get to London!'
'Take the road you came,' she answered, ensconcing
herself in a chair, with a candle, and the long book open before her. 'It
is brief advice, but as sound as I can give.'
'Then, if you hear of me being discovered dead in
a bog or a pit full of snow, your conscience won't whisper that it is partly
your fault?'
'How so? I cannot escort you. They wouldn't let me
go to the end of the garden wall.'
'You! I should be sorry to ask you to cross
the threshold, for my convenience, on such a night,' I cried. 'I want you
to tell me my way, not to show it: or else to persuade Mr.
Heathcliff to give me a guide.'
'Who? There is himself, Earnshaw, Zillah, Joseph
and I. Which would you have?'
'Are there no boys at the farm?'
'No; those are all.'
'Then, it follows that I am compelled to stay.'
'That you may settle with your host. I have nothing
to do with it.'
'I hope it will be a lesson to you to make no more
rash journeys on these hills,' cried Heathcliff's stern voice from the
kitchen entrance. 'As to staying here, I don't keep accommodations for
visitors: you must share a bed with Hareton or Joseph, if you do.'
'I can sleep on a chair in this room,' I replied.
'No, no! A stranger is a stranger, be he rich or
poor: it will not suit me to permit any one the range of the place while
I am off guard!' said the unmannerly wretch.
With this insult my patience was at an end. I uttered
an expression of disgust, and pushed past him into the yard, running against
Earnshaw in my haste. It was so dark that I could not see the means of
exit; and, as I wandered round, I heard another specimen of their civil
behaviour amongst each other. At first the young man appeared about to
befriend me.
'I'll go with him as far as the park,' he said.
'You'll go with him to hell!' exclaimed his master,
or whatever relation he bore. 'And who is to look after the horses, eh?'
'A man's life is of more consequence than one evening's
neglect of the horses: somebody must go,' murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more
kindly than I expected.
'Not at your command!' retorted Hareton. 'If you
set store on him, you'd better be quiet.'
'Then I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope
Mr. Heathcliff will never get another tenant till the Grange is a ruin,'
she answered, sharply.
'Hearken, hearken, shoo's cursing on 'em!' muttered
Joseph, towards whom I had been steering.
He sat within earshot, milking the cows by the light
of a lantern, which I seized unceremoniously, and, calling out that I would
send it back on the morrow, rushed to the nearest postern.
On opening the little door, two hairy monsters flew
at my throat, bearing me down, and extinguishing the light; while a mingled
guffaw from Heathcliff and Hareton put the copestone on my rage and humiliation.
Fortunately, the beasts seemed more bent on stretching their paws, and
yawning, and flourishing their tails, than devouring me alive; but they
would suffer no resurrection, and I was forced to lie till their malignant
masters pleased to deliver me: then, hatless and trembling with wrath,
I ordered the miscreants to let me out -- on their peril to keep me one
minute longer -- with several incoherent threats of retaliation that, in
their indefinite depth of virulency, smacked of King Lear.
The vehemence of my agitation brought on a copious
bleeding at the nose, and still Heathcliff laughed, and still I scolded.
I don't know what would have concluded the scene, had there not been one
person at hand rather more rational than myself, and more benevolent than
my entertainer. This was Zillah, the stout housewife; who at length issued
forth to inquire into the nature of the uproar. She thought that some of
them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her
master, she turned her vocal artillery against the younger scoundrel.
'Well, Mr. Earnshaw,' she cried, 'I wonder what you'll
have agait next? Are we going to murder folk on our very door-stones? I
see this house will never do for me -- look at t' poor lad, he's fair choking!
Wisht, wisht; you mun'n't go on so. Come in, and I'll cure that: there
now, hold ye still.'
With these words she suddenly splashed a pint of
icy water down my neck, and pulled me into the kitchen. Mr. Heathcliff
followed, his accidental merriment expiring quickly in his habitual moroseness.
I was sick exceedingly, and dizzy, and faint; and
thus compelled perforce to accept lodgings under his roof. He told Zillah
to give me a glass of brandy, and then passed on to the inner room; while
she condoled with me on my sorry predicament, and having obeyed his orders,
whereby I was somewhat revived, ushered me to bed.
CHAPTER III
While leading the way upstairs, she recommended that
I should hide the candle, and not make a noise; for her master had an odd
notion about the chamber she would put me in, and never let anybody lodge
there willingly. I asked the reason. She did not know, she answered: she
had only lived there a year or two; and they had so many queer goings on,
she could not begin to be curious.
Too stupefied to be curious myself, I fastened my
door and glanced round for the bed. The whole furniture consisted of a
chair, a clothes-press, and a large oak case, with squares cut out near
the top resembling coach windows. Having approached this structure, I looked
inside, and perceived it to be a singular sort of old- fashioned couch,
very conveniently designed to obviate the necessity for every member of
the family having a room to himself. In fact, it formed a little closet,
and the ledge of a window, which it enclosed, served as a table. I slid
back the panelled sides, got in with my light, pulled them together again,
and felt secure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else.
The ledge, where I placed my candle, had a few mildewed
books piled up in one corner; and it was covered with writing scratched
on the paint. This writing, however, was nothing but a name repeated in
all kinds of characters, large and small -- Catherine Earnshaw,
here and there varied to Catherine Heathcliff, and then again to
Catherine
Linton.
In vapid listlessness I leant my head against the
window, and continued spelling over Catherine Earnshaw -- Heathcliff --
Linton, till my eyes closed; but they had not rested five minutes when
a glare of white letters started from the dark, as vivid as spectres --
the air swarmed with Catherines; and rousing myself to dispel the obtrusive
name, I discovered my candle-wick reclining on one of the antique volumes,
and perfuming the place with an odour of roasted calf-skin. I snuffed it
off, and, very ill at ease under the influence of cold and lingering nausea,
sat up and spread open the injured tome on my knee. It was a Testament,
in lean type, and smelling dreadfully musty: a fly-leaf bore the inscription
-- 'Catherine Earnshaw, her book,' and a date some quarter of a century
back. I shut it, and took up another and another, till I had examined all.
Catherine's library was select, and its state of dilapidation proved it
to have been well used, though not altogether for a legitimate purpose:
scarcely one chapter had escaped, a pen-and-ink commentary -- at least
the appearance of one -- covering every morsel of blank that the printer
had left. Some were detached sentences; other parts took the form of a
regular diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of an
extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) I was greatly
amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friend Joseph, -- rudely,
yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interest kindled within me for the
unknown Catherine, and I began forthwith to decipher her faded hieroglyphics.
'An awful Sunday,' commenced the paragraph beneath.
'I wish my father were back again. Hindley is a detestable substitute --
his conduct to Heathcliff is atrocious -- H. and I are going to rebel --
we took our initiatory step this evening.
'All day had been flooding with rain; we could not
go to church, so Joseph must needs get up a congregation in the garret;
and, while Hindley and his wife basked downstairs before a comfortable
fire -- doing anything but reading their Bibles, I'll answer for it --
Heathcliff, myself, and the unhappy ploughboy were commanded to take our
prayer-books, and mount: we were ranged in a row, on a sack of corn, groaning
and shivering, and hoping that Joseph would shiver too, so that he might
give us a short homily for his own sake. A vain idea! The service lasted
precisely three hours; and yet my brother had the face to exclaim, when
he saw us descending, "What, done already?" On Sunday evenings we used
to be permitted to play, if we did not make much noise; now a mere titter
is sufficient to send us into corners.
'"You forget you have a master here," says the tyrant.
"I'll demolish the first who puts me out of temper! I insist on perfect
sobriety and silence. Oh, boy! was that you? Frances darling, pull his
hair as you go by: I heard him snap his fingers." Frances pulled his hair
heartily, and then went and seated herself on her husband's knee, and there
they were, like two babies, kissing and talking nonsense by the hour --
foolish palaver that we should be ashamed of. We made ourselves as snug
as our means allowed in the arch of the dresser. I had just fastened our
pinafores together, and hung them up for a curtain, when in comes Joseph,
on an errand from the stables. He tears down my handiwork, boxes my ears,
and croaks:
'"T' maister nobbut just buried, and Sabbath not
o'ered, und t' sound o' t' gospel still i' yer lugs, and ye darr be laiking!
Shame on ye! sit ye down, ill childer! there's good books eneugh if ye'll
read 'em: sit ye down, and think o' yer sowls!"
'Saying this, he compelled us so to square our positions
that we might receive from the far-off fire a dull ray to show us the text
of the lumber he thrust upon us. I could not bear the employment. I took
my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dog- kennel, vowing
I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. Then there
was a hubbub!
'"Maister Hindley!" shouted our chaplain. " Maister,
coom hither! Miss Cathy's riven th' back off 'Th' Helmet o' Salvation,'
un' Heathcliff's pawsed his fit into t' first part o' 'T' Brooad Way to
Destruction!' It's fair flaysome that ye let 'em go on this gait. Ech!
th' owd man wad ha' laced 'em properly -- but he's goan!"
'Hindley hurried up from his paradise on the hearth,
and seizing one of us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both
into the back-kitchen; where, Joseph asseverated, "owd Nick would fetch
us as sure as we were living: and, so comforted, we each sought a separate
nook to await his advent. I reached this book, and a pot of ink from a
shelf, and pushed the house-door ajar to give me light, and I have got
the time on with writing for twenty minutes; but my companion is impatient,
and proposes that we should appropriate the dairywoman's cloak, and have
a scamper on the moors, under its shelter. A pleasant suggestion -- and
then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified
-- we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here.'
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I suppose Catherine fulfilled her project, for the
next sentence took up another subject: she waxed lachrymose.
'How little did I dream that Hindley would ever make
me cry so!' she wrote. 'My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow;
and still I can't give over. Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond,
and won't let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says,
he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house
if we break his orders. He has been blaming our father (how dared he?)
for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right
place ----'
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I began to nod drowsily over the dim page: my eye
wandered from manuscript to print. I saw a red ornamented title -- 'Seventy
Times Seven, and the First of the Seventy-First.' A Pious Discourse delivered
by the Reverend Jabez Branderham, in the Chapel of Gimmerden Sough.' And
while I was, half-consciously, worrying my brain to guess what Jabez Branderham
would make of his subject, I sank back in bed, and fell asleep. Alas, for
the effects of bad tea and bad temper! What else could it be that made
me pass such a terrible night? I don't remember another that I can at all
compare with it since I was capable of suffering.
I began to dream, almost before I ceased to be sensible
of my locality. I thought it was morning; and I had set out on my way home,
with Joseph for a guide. The snow lay yards deep in our road; and, as we
floundered on, my companion wearied me with constant reproaches that I
had not brought a pilgrim's staff: telling me that I could never get into
the house without one, and boastfully flourishing a heavy-headed cudgel,
which I understood to be so denominated. For a moment I considered it absurd
that I should need such a weapon to gain admittance into my own residence.
Then a new idea flashed across me. I was not going there: we were journeying
to hear the famous Jabez Branderham preach, from the text -- 'Seventy Times
Seven;' and either Joseph, the preacher, or I had committed the 'First
of the Seventy-First,' and were to be publicly exposed and excommunicated.
We came to the chapel. I have passed it really in
my walks, twice or thrice; it lies in a hollow, between two hills: an elevated
hollow, near a swamp, whose peaty moisture is said to answer all the purposes
of embalming on the few corpses deposited there. The roof has been kept
whole hitherto; but as the clergyman's stipend is only twenty pounds per
annum, and a house with two rooms, threatening speedily to determine into
one, no clergyman will undertake the duties of pastor: especially as it
is currently reported that his flock would rather let him starve than increase
the living by one penny from their own pockets. However, in my dream, Jabez
had a full and attentive congregation; and he preached -- good God! what
a sermon; divided into four hundred and ninety parts, each fully
equal to an ordinary address from the pulpit, and each discussing a separate
sin! Where he searched for them, I cannot tell. He had his private manner
of interpreting the phrase, and it seemed necessary the brother should
sin different sins on every occasion. They were of the most curious character:
odd transgressions that I never imagined previously.
Oh, how weary I grow. How I writhed, and yawned,
and nodded, and revived! How I pinched and pricked myself, and rubbed my
eyes, and stood up, and sat down again, and nudged Joseph to inform me
if he would ever have done. I was condemned to hear all out: finally,
he reached the 'First of the Seventy-First.' At that crisis, a sudden
inspiration descended on me; I was moved to rise and denounce Jabez Branderham
as the sinner of the sin that no Christian need pardon.
'Sir,' I exclaimed, 'sitting here within these four
walls, at one stretch, I have endured and forgiven the four hundred and
ninety heads of your discourse. Seventy times seven times have I plucked
up my hat and been about to depart -- Seventy times seven times have you
preposterously forced me to resume my seat. The four hundred and ninety-first
is too much. Fellow-martyrs, have at him! Drag him down, and crush him
to atoms, that the place which knows him may know him no more!'
'Thou art the Man!' cried Jabez, after a solemn
pause, leaning over his cushion. 'Seventy times seven times didst thou
gapingly contort thy visage -- seventy times seven did I take counsel with
my soul -- Lo, this is human weakness: this also may be absolved! The First
of the Seventy-First is come. Brethren, execute upon him the judgment written.
Such honour have all His saints!'
With that concluding word, the whole assembly, exalting
their pilgrim's staves, rushed round me in a body; and I, having no weapon
to raise in self-defence, commenced grappling with Joseph, my nearest and
most ferocious assailant, for his. In the confluence of the multitude,
several clubs crossed; blows, aimed at me, fell on other sconces. Presently
the whole chapel resounded with rappings and counter rappings: every man's
hand was against his neighbour; and Branderham, unwilling to remain idle,
poured forth his zeal in a shower of loud taps on the boards of the pulpit,
which responded so smartly that, at last, to my unspeakable relief, they
woke me. And what was it that had suggested the tremendous tumult? What
had played Jabez's part in the row? Merely the branch of a fir-tree that
touched my lattice as the blast wailed by, and rattled its dry cones against
the panes! I listened doubtingly an instant; detected the disturber, then
turned and dozed, and dreamt again: if possible, still more disagreeably
than before.
This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet,
and I heard distinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard,
also, the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it to the right
cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved to silence it, if possible;
and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured to unhasp the casement. The hook
was soldered into the staple: a circumstance observed by me when awake,
but forgotten. 'I must stop it, nevertheless!' I muttered, knocking my
knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate
branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little,
ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to
draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice
sobbed, 'Let me in -- let me in!' 'Who are you?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile,
to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did
I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton)
-- 'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned,
obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. Terror made me cruel;
and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its
wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran
down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed, 'Let me in!' and maintained
its tenacious gripe, almost maddening me with fear. 'How can I!' I said
at length. 'Let me go, if you want me to let you in!' The fingers
relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up
in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable
prayer. I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the
instant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on! 'Begone!'
I shouted. 'I'll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years.' 'It
is twenty years,' mourned the voice: 'twenty years. I've been a waif for
twenty years!' Thereat began a feeble scratching outside, and the pile
of books moved as if thrust forward. I tried to jump up; but could not
stir a limb; and so yelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright. To my confusion,
I discovered the yell was not ideal: hasty footsteps approached my chamber
door; somebody pushed it open, with a vigorous hand, and a light glimmered
through the squares at the top of the bed. I sat shuddering yet, and wiping
the perspiration from my forehead: the intruder appeared to hesitate, and
muttered to himself. At last, he said, in a half-whisper, plainly not expecting
an answer, 'Is any one here?' I considered it best to confess my presence;
for I knew Heathcliff's accents, and feared he might search further, if
I kept quiet. With this intention, I turned and opened the panels. I shall
not soon forget the effect my action produced.
Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt
and trousers; with a candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as
white as the wall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like
an electric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some
feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up.
'It is only your guest, sir,' I called out, desirous
to spare him the humiliation of exposing his cowardice further. 'I had
the misfortune to scream in my sleep, owing to a frightful nightmare. I'm
sorry I disturbed you.'
'Oh, God confound you, Mr. Lockwood! I wish you were
at the' -- commenced my host, setting the candle on a chair, because he
found it impossible to hold it steady. 'And who showed you up into this
room?' he continued, crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his
teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions. 'Who was it? I've a good mind
to turn them out of the house this moment?'
'It was your servant Zillah,' I replied, flinging
myself on to the floor, and rapidly resuming my garments. 'I should not
care if you did, Mr. Heathcliff; she richly deserves it. I suppose that
she wanted to get another proof that the place was haunted, at my expense.
Well, it is -- swarming with ghosts and goblins! You have reason in shutting
it up, I assure you. No one will thank you for a doze in such a den!'
'What do you mean?' asked Heathcliff, 'and what are
you doing? Lie down and finish out the night, since you are here;
but, for heaven's sake! don't repeat that horrid noise: nothing could excuse
it, unless you were having your throat cut!'
'If the little fiend had got in at the window, she
probably would have strangled me!' I returned. 'I'm not going to endure
the persecutions of your hospitable ancestors again. Was not the Reverend
Jabez Branderham akin to you on the mother's side? And that minx, Catherine
Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called -- she must have been a
changeling -- wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the
earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal transgressions,
I've no doubt!'
Scarcely were these words uttered when I recollected
the association of Heathcliff's with Catherine's name in the book, which
had completely slipped from my memory, till thus awakened. I blushed at
my inconsideration: but, without showing further consciousness of the offence,
I hastened to add -- 'The truth is, sir, I passed the first part of the
night in' -- Here I stopped afresh -- I was about to say 'perusing those
old volumes,' then it would have revealed my knowledge of their written,
as well as their printed, contents; so, correcting myself, I went on --
'in spelling over the name scratched on that window-ledge. A monotonous
occupation, calculated to set me asleep, like counting, or ----'
'What can you mean by talking in this way
to me!' thundered Heathcliff with savage vehemence. 'How -- how
dare
you, under my roof? -- God! he's mad to speak so!' And he struck his forehead
with rage.
I did not know whether to resent this language or
pursue my explanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took
pity and proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation
of 'Catherine Linton' before, but reading it often over produced an impression
which personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control.
Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke;
finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by
his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish
an excess of violent emotion. Not liking to show him that I had heard the
conflict, I continued my toilette rather noisily, looked at my watch, and
soliloquised on the length of the night: 'Not three o'clock yet! I could
have taken oath it had been six. Time stagnates here: we must surely have
retired to rest at eight!'
'Always at nine in winter, and rise at four,' said
my host, suppressing a groan: and, as I fancied, by the motion of his arm's
shadow, dashing a tear from his eyes. 'Mr. Lockwood,' he added, 'you may
go into my room: you'll only be in the way, coming down- stairs so early:
and your childish outcry has sent sleep to the devil for me.'
'And for me, too,' I replied. 'I'll walk in the yard
till daylight, and then I'll be off; and you need not dread a repetition
of my intrusion. I'm now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be
it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in
himself.'
'Delightful company!' muttered Heathcliff. 'Take
the candle, and go where you please. I shall join you directly. Keep out
of the yard, though, the dogs are unchained; and the house -- Juno mounts
sentinel there, and -- nay, you can only ramble about the steps and passages.
But, away with you! I'll come in two minutes!'
I obeyed, so far as to quit the chamber; when, ignorant
where the narrow lobbies led, I stood still, and was witness, involuntarily,
to a piece of superstition on the part of my landlord which belied, oddly,
his apparent sense. He got on to the bed, and wrenched open the lattice,
bursting, as he pulled at it, into an uncontrollable passion of tears.
'Come in! come in!' he sobbed. 'Cathy, do come. Oh, do -- once more!
Oh! my heart's darling! hear me this time, Catherine, at last!'
The spectre showed a spectre's ordinary caprice: it gave no sign of being;
but the snow and wind whirled wildly through, even reaching my station,
and blowing out the light.
There was such anguish in the gush of grief that
accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly,
and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having
related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though why
was beyond my comprehension. I descended cautiously to the lower regions,
and landed in the back-kitchen, where a gleam of fire, raked compactly
together, enabled me to rekindle my candle. Nothing was stirring except
a brindled, grey cat, which crept from the ashes, and saluted me with a
querulous mew.
Two benches, shaped in sections of a circle, nearly
enclosed the hearth; on one of these I stretched myself, and Grimalkin
mounted the other. We were both of us nodding ere any one invaded our retreat,
and then it was Joseph, shuffling down a wooden ladder that vanished in
the roof, through a trap: the ascent to his garret, I suppose. He cast
a sinister look at the little flame which I had enticed to play between
the ribs, swept the cat from its elevation, and bestowing himself in the
vacancy, commenced the operation of stuffing a three-inch pipe with tobacco.
My presence in his sanctum was evidently esteemed a piece of impudence
too shameful for remark: he silently applied the tube to his lips, folded
his arms, and puffed away. I let him enjoy the luxury unannoyed; and after
sucking out his last wreath, and heaving a profound sigh, he got up, and
departed as solemnly as he came.
A more elastic footstep entered next; and now I opened
my mouth for a 'good-morning,' but closed it again, the salutation unachieved;
for Hareton Earnshaw was performing his orison sotto voce, in a
series of curses directed against every object he touched, while he rummaged
a corner for a spade or shovel to dig through the drifts. He glanced over
the back of the bench, dilating his nostrils, and thought as little of
exchanging civilities with me as with my companion the cat. I guessed,
by his preparations, that egress was allowed, and, leaving my hard couch,
made a movement to follow him. He noticed this, and thrust at an inner
door with the end of his spade, intimating by an inarticulate sound that
there was the place where I must go, if I changed my locality.
It opened into the house, where the females were
already astir; Zillah urging flakes of flame up the chimney with a colossal
bellows; and Mrs. Heathcliff, kneeling on the hearth, reading a book by
the aid of the blaze. She held her hand interposed between the furnace-heat
and her eyes, and seemed absorbed in her occupation; desisting from it
only to chide the servant for covering her with sparks, or to push away
a dog, now and then, that snoozled its nose overforwardly into her face.
I was surprised to see Heathcliff there also. He stood by the fire, his
back towards me, just finishing a stormy scene with poor Zillah; who ever
and anon interrupted her labour to pluck up the corner of her apron, and
heave an indignant groan.
'And you, you worthless' -- he broke out as I entered,
turning to his daughter-in-law, and employing an epithet as harmless as
duck, or sheep, but generally represented by a dash ---- 'There you are,
at your idle tricks again! The rest of them do earn their bread -- you
live on my charity! Put your trash away, and find something to do. You
shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight -- do you
hear, damnable jade?'
'I'll put my trash away, because you can make me
if I refuse,' answered the young lady, closing her book, and throwing it
on a chair. 'But I'll not do anything, though you should swear your tongue
out, except what I please!'
Heathcliff lifted his hand, and the speaker sprang
to a safer distance, obviously acquainted with its weight. Having no desire
to be entertained by a cat-and-dog combat, I stepped forward briskly, as
if eager to partake the warmth of the hearth, and innocent of any knowledge
of the interrupted dispute. Each had enough decorum to suspend further
hostilities: Heathcliff placed his fists, out of temptation, in his pockets;
Mrs. Heathcliff curled her lip, and walked to a seat far off, where she
kept her word by playing the part of a statue during the remainder of my
stay. That was not long. I declined joining their breakfast, and, at the
first gleam of dawn, took an opportunity of escaping into the free air,
now clear, and still, and cold as impalpable ice.
My landlord halloed for me to stop ere I reached
the bottom of the garden, and offered to accompany me across the moor.
It was well he did, for the whole hill-back was one billowy, white ocean;
the swells and falls not indicating corresponding rises and depressions
in the ground: many pits, at least, were filled to a level; and entire
ranges of mounds, the refuse of the quarries, blotted from the chart which
my yesterday's walk left pictured in my mind. I had remarked on one side
of the road, at intervals of six or seven yards, a line of upright stones,
continued through the whole length of the barren: these were erected and
daubed with lime on purpose to serve as guides in the dark, and also when
a fall, like the present, confounded the deep swamps on either hand with
the firmer path: but, excepting a dirty dot pointing up here and there,
all traces of their existence had vanished: and my companion found it necessary
to warn me frequently to steer to the right or left, when I imagined I
was following, correctly, the windings of the road. We exchanged little
conversation, and he halted at the entrance of Thrushcross Park, saying,
I could make no error there. Our adieux were limited to a hasty bow, and
then I pushed forward, trusting to my own resources; for the porter's lodge
is untenanted as yet. The distance from the gate to the grange is two miles;
I believe I managed to make it four, what with losing myself among the
trees, and sinking up to the neck in snow: a predicament which only those
who have experienced it can appreciate. At any rate, whatever were my wanderings,
the clock chimed twelve as I entered the house; and that gave exactly an
hour for every mile of the usual way from Wuthering Heights.
My human fixture and her satellites rushed to welcome
me; exclaiming, tumultuously, they had completely given me up: everybody
conjectured that I perished last night; and they were wondering how they
must set about the search for my remains. I bid them be quiet, now that
they saw me returned, and, benumbed to my very heart, I dragged up-stairs;
whence, after putting on dry clothes, and pacing to and fro thirty or forty
minutes, to restore the animal heat, I adjourned to my study, feeble as
a kitten: almost too much so to enjoy the cheerful fire and smoking coffee
which the servant had prepared for my refreshment.
CHAPTER IV
What vain weathercocks we are! I, who had determined
to hold myself independent of all social intercourse, and thanked my stars
that, at length, I had lighted on a spot where it was next to impracticable
-- I, weak wretch, after maintaining till dusk a struggle with low spirits
and solitude, was finally compelled to strike my colours; and under pretence
of gaining information concerning the necessities of my establishment,
I desired Mrs. Dean, when she brought in supper, to sit down while I ate
it; hoping sincerely she would prove a regular gossip, and either rouse
me to animation or lull me to sleep by her talk.
'You have lived here a considerable time,' I commenced;
'did you not say sixteen years?'
'Eighteen, sir: I came when the mistress was married,
to wait on her; after she died, the master retained me for his housekeeper.'
'Indeed.'
There ensued a pause. She was not a gossip, I feared;
unless about her own affairs, and those could hardly interest me. However,
having studied for an interval, with a fist on either knee, and a cloud
of meditation over her ruddy countenance, she ejaculated -- 'Ah, times
are greatly changed since then!'
'Yes,' I remarked, 'you've seen a good many alterations,
I suppose?'
'I have: and troubles too,' she said.
'Oh, I'll turn the talk on my landlord's family!'
I thought to myself. 'A good subject to start! And that pretty girl-widow,
I should like to know her history: whether she be a native of the country,
or, as is more probable, an exotic that the surly indigenae will
not recognise for kin.' With this intention I asked Mrs. Dean why Heathcliff
let Thrushcross Grange, and preferred living in a situation and residence
so much inferior. 'Is he not rich enough to keep the estate in good order?'
I inquired.
'Rich, sir!' she returned. 'He has nobody knows what
money, and every year it increases. Yes, yes, he's rich enough to live
in a finer house than this: but he's very near -- close-handed; and, if
he had meant to flit to Thrushcross Grange, as soon as he heard of a good
tenant he could not have borne to miss the chance of getting a few hundreds
more. It is strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in
the world!'
'He had a son, it seems?'
'Yes, he had one -- he is dead.'
'And that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is his widow?'
'Yes.'
'Where did she come from originally?'
'Why, sir, she is my late master's daughter: Catherine
Linton was her maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff
would remove here, and then we might have been together again.'
'What! Catherine Linton?' I exclaimed, astonished.
But a minute's reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine.
Then,' I continued, 'my predecessor's name was Linton?'
'It was.'
'And who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who
lives with Mr. Heathcliff? Are they relations?'
'No; he is the late Mrs. Linton's nephew.'
'The young lady's cousin, then?'
'Yes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on
the mother's, the other on the father's side: Heathcliff married Mr. Linton's
sister.'
'I see the house at Wuthering Heights has "Earnshaw"
carved over the front door. Are they an old family?'
'Very old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them,
as our Miss Cathy is of us -- I mean, of the Lintons. Have you been to
Wuthering Heights? I beg pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how
she is!'
'Mrs. Heathcliff? she looked very well, and very
handsome; yet, I think, not very happy.'
'Oh dear, I don't wonder! And how did you like the
master?'
'A rough fellow, rather, Mrs. Dean. Is not that his
character?
'Rough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone! The
less you meddle with him the better.'
'He must have had some ups and downs in life to make
him such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?'
'It's a cuckoo's, sir -- I know all about it: except
where he was born, and who were his parents, and how he got his money at
first. And Hareton has been cast out like an unfledged dunnock! The unfortunate
lad is the only one in all this parish that does not guess how he has been
cheated.'
'Well, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to
tell me something of my neighbours: I feel I shall not rest if I go to
bed; so be good enough to sit and chat an hour.'
'Oh, certainly, sir! I'll just fetch a little sewing,
and then I'll sit as long as you please. But you've caught cold: I saw
you shivering, and you must have some gruel to drive it out.'
The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer
the fire; my head felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover, I was excited,
almost to a pitch of foolishness, through my nerves and brain. This caused
me to feel, not uncomfortable, but rather fearful (as I am still) of serious
effects from the incidents of to-day and yesterday. She returned presently,
bringing a smoking basin and a basket of work; and, having placed the former
on the hob, drew in her seat, evidently pleased to find me so companionable.
Before I came to live here, she commenced -- waiting
no farther invitation to her story -- I was almost always at Wuthering
Heights; because my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton's
father, and I got used to playing with the children: I ran errands too,
and helped to make hay, and hung about the farm ready for anything that
anybody would set me to. One fine summer morning -- it was the beginning
of harvest, I remember -- Mr. Earnshaw, the old master, came down-stairs,
dressed for a journey; and, after he had told Joseph what was to be done
during the day, he turned to Hindley, and Cathy, and me -- for I sat eating
my porridge with them -- and he said, speaking to his son, 'Now, my bonny
man, I'm going to Liverpool to-day, what shall I bring you? You may choose
what you like: only let it be little, for I shall walk there and back:
sixty miles each way, that is a long spell!' Hindley named a fiddle, and
then he asked Miss Cathy; she was hardly six years old, but she could ride
any horse in the stable, and she chose a whip. He did not forget me; for
he had a kind heart, though he was rather severe sometimes. He promised
to bring me a pocketful of apples and pears, and then he kissed his children,
said good-bye, and set off.
It seemed a long while to us all -- the three days
of his absence -- and often did little Cathy ask when he would be home.
Mrs. Earnshaw expected him by supper-time on the third evening, and she
put the meal off hour after hour; there were no signs of his coming, however,
and at last the children got tired of running down to the gate to look.
Then it grew dark; she would have had them to bed, but they begged sadly
to be allowed to stay up; and, just about eleven o'clock, the door-latch
was raised quietly, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a
chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly
killed -- he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms.
'And at the end of it to be flighted to death!' he
said, opening his great-coat, which he held bundled up in his arms. 'See
here, wife! I was never so beaten with anything in my life: but you must
e'en take it as a gift of God; though it's as dark almost as if it came
from the devil.'
We crowded round, and over Miss Cathy's head I had
a peep at a dirty, ragged, black-haired child; big enough both to walk
and talk: indeed, its face looked older than Catherine's; yet when it was
set on its feet, it only stared round, and repeated over and over again
some gibberish that nobody could understand. I was frightened, and Mrs.
Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how
he could fashion to bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had
their own bairns to feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and
whether he were mad? The master tried to explain the matter; but he was
really half dead with fatigue, and all that I could make out, amongst her
scolding, was a tale of his seeing it starving, and houseless, and as good
as dumb, in the streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired
for its owner. Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and his money
and time being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with
him at once, than run into vain expenses there: because he was determined
he would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my
mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and
give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children.
Hindley and Cathy contented themselves with looking
and listening till peace was restored: then, both began searching their
father's pockets for the presents he had promised them. The former was
a boy of fourteen, but when he drew out what had been a fiddle, crushed
to morsels in the great-coat, he blubbered aloud; and Cathy, when she learned
the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour
by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains
a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They entirely
refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and I had no
more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it might he
gone on the morrow. By chance, or else attracted by hearing his voice,
it crept to Mr. Earnshaw's door, and there he found it on quitting his
chamber. Inquiries were made as to how it got there; I was obliged to confess,
and in recompense for my cowardice and inhumanity was sent out of the house.
This was Heathcliff's first introduction to the family.
On coming back a few days afterwards (for I did not consider my banishment
perpetual), I found they had christened him 'Heathcliff': it was the name
of a son who died in childhood, and it has served him ever since, both
for Christian and surname. Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley
hated him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went
on with him shamefully: for I wasn't reasonable enough to feel my injustice,
and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged.
He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps,
to ill- treatment: he would stand Hindley's blows without winking or shedding
a tear, and my pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his
eyes, as if he had hurt himself by accident, and nobody was to blame. This
endurance made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting
the poor fatherless child, as he called him. He took to Heathcliff strangely,
believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious little, and generally
the truth), and petting him up far above Cathy, who was too mischievous
and wayward for a favourite.
So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling
in the house; and at Mrs. Earnshaw's death, which happened in less than
two years after, the young master had learned to regard his father as an
oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent's
affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these
injuries. I sympathised a while; but when the children fell ill of the
measles, and I had to tend them, and take on me the cares of a woman at
once, I changed my idea. Heathcliff was dangerously sick; and while he
lay at the worst he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he
felt I did a good deal for him, and he hadn't wit to guess that I was compelled
to do it. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever
nurse watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me
to be less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he
was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him
give little trouble.
He got through, and the doctor affirmed it was in
a great measure owing to me, and praised me for my care. I was vain of
his commendations, and softened towards the being by whose means I earned
them, and thus Hindley lost his last ally: still I couldn't dote on Heathcliff,
and I wondered often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen
boy; who never, to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of
gratitude. He was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible;
though knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he
had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes.
As an instance, I remember Mr. Earnshaw once bought a couple of colts at
the parish fair, and gave the lads each one. Heathcliff took the handsomest,
but it soon fell lame, and when he discovered it, he said to Hindley -
'You must exchange horses with me: I don't like mine;
and if you won't I shall tell your father of the three thrashings you've
given me this week, and show him my arm, which is black to the shoulder.'
Hindley put out his tongue, and cuffed him over the ears. 'You'd better
do it at once,' he persisted, escaping to the porch (they were in the stable):
'you will have to: and if I speak of these blows, you'll get them again
with interest.' 'Off, dog!' cried Hindley, threatening him with an iron
weight used for weighing potatoes and hay. 'Throw it,' he replied, standing
still, 'and then I'll tell how you boasted that you would turn me out of
doors as soon as he died, and see whether he will not turn you out directly.'
Hindley threw it, hitting him on the breast, and down he fell, but staggered
up immediately, breathless and white; and, had not I prevented it, he would
have gone just so to the master, and got full revenge by letting his condition
plead for him, intimating who had caused it. 'Take my colt, Gipsy, then!'
said young Earnshaw. 'And I pray that he may break your neck: take him,
and he damned, you beggarly interloper! and wheedle my father out of all
he has: only afterwards show him what you are, imp of Satan. -- And take
that, I hope he'll kick out your brains!'
Heathcliff had gone to loose the beast, and shift
it to his own stall; he was passing behind it, when Hindley finished his
speech by knocking him under its feet, and without stopping to examine
whether his hopes were fulfilled, ran away as fast as he could. I was surprised
to witness how coolly the child gathered himself up, and went on with his
intention; exchanging saddles and all, and then sitting down on a bundle
of hay to overcome the qualm which the violent blow occasioned, before
he entered the house. I persuaded him easily to let me lay the blame of
his bruises on the horse: he minded little what tale was told since he
had what he wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, of such stirs as these,
that I really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as
you will hear.
CHAPTER V
In the course of time Mr. Earnshaw began to fail.
He had been active and healthy, yet his strength left him suddenly; and
when he was confined to the chimney-corner he grew grievously irritable.
A nothing vexed him; and suspected slights of his authority nearly threw
him into fits. This was especially to be remarked if any one attempted
to impose upon, or domineer over, his favourite: he was painfully jealous
lest a word should be spoken amiss to him; seeming to have got into his
head the notion that, because he liked Heathcliff, all hated, and longed
to do him an ill-turn. It was a disadvantage to the lad; for the kinder
among us did not wish to fret the master, so we humoured his partiality;
and that humouring was rich nourishment to the child's pride and black
tempers. Still it became in a manner necessary; twice, or thrice, Hindley's
manifestation of scorn, while his father was near, roused the old man to
a fury: he seized his stick to strike him, and shook with rage that he
could not do it.
At last, our curate (we had a curate then who made
the living answer by teaching the little Lintons and Earnshaws, and farming
his bit of land himself) advised that the young man should be sent to college;
and Mr. Earnshaw agreed, though with a heavy spirit, for he said -- 'Hindley
was nought, and would never thrive as where he wandered.'
I hoped heartily we should have peace now. It hurt
me to think the master should be made uncomfortable by his own good deed.
I fancied the discontent of age and disease arose from his family disagreements;
as he would have it that it did: really, you know, sir, it was in his sinking
frame. We might have got on tolerably, notwithstanding, but for two people
-- Miss Cathy, and Joseph, the servant: you saw him, I daresay, up yonder.
He was, and is yet most likely, the wearisomest self-righteous Pharisee
that ever ransacked a Bible to rake the promises to himself and fling the
curses to his neighbours. By his knack of sermonising and pious discoursing,
he contrived to make a great impression on Mr. Earnshaw; and the more feeble
the master became, the more influence he gained. He was relentless in worrying
him about his soul's concerns, and about ruling his children rigidly. He
encouraged him to regard Hindley as a reprobate; and, night after night,
he regularly grumbled out a long string of tales against Heathcliff and
Catherine: always minding to flatter Earnshaw's weakness by heaping the
heaviest blame on the latter.
Certainly she had ways with her such as I never saw
a child take up before; and she put all of us past our patience fifty times
and oftener in a day: from the hour she came down-stairs till the hour
she went to bed, we had not a minute's security that she wouldn't be in
mischief. Her spirits were always at high-water mark, her tongue always
going -- singing, laughing, and plaguing everybody who would not do the
same. A wild, wicked slip she was -- but she had the bonniest eye, the
sweetest smile, and lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe
she meant no harm; for when once she made you cry in good earnest, it seldom
happened that she would not keep you company, and oblige you to be quiet
that you might comfort her. She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest
punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him: yet
she got chided more than any of us on his account. In play, she liked exceedingly
to act the little mistress; using her hands freely, and commanding her
companions: she did so to me, but I would not bear slapping and ordering;
and so I let her know.
Now, Mr. Earnshaw did not understand jokes from his
children: he had always been strict and grave with them; and Catherine,
on her part, had no idea why her father should be crosser and less patient
in his ailing condition than he was in his prime. His peevish reproofs
wakened in her a naughty delight to provoke him: she was never so happy
as when we were all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold,
saucy look, and her ready words; turning Joseph's religious curses into
ridicule, baiting me, and doing just what her father hated most -- showing
how her pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over
Heathcliff than his kindness: how the boy would do her bidding in
anything, and his only when it suited his own inclination. After
behaving as badly as possible all day, she sometimes came fondling to make
it up at night. 'Nay, Cathy,' the old man would say, 'I cannot love thee,
thou'rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God's
pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!' That
made her cry, at first; and then being repulsed continually hardened her,
and she laughed if I told her to say she was sorry for her faults, and
beg to be forgiven.
But the hour came, at last, that ended Mr. Earnshaw's
troubles on earth. He died quietly in his chair one October evening, seated
by the fire-side. A high wind blustered round the house, and roared in
the chimney: it sounded wild and stormy, yet it was not cold, and we were
all together -- I, a little removed from the hearth, busy at my knitting,
and Joseph reading his Bible near the table (for the servants generally
sat in the house then, after their work was done). Miss Cathy had been
sick, and that made her still; she leant against her father's knee, and
Heathcliff was lying on the floor with his head in her lap. I remember
the master, before he fell into a doze, stroking her bonny hair -- it pleased
him rarely to see her gentle -- and saying, 'Why canst thou not always
be a good lass, Cathy?' And she turned her face up to his, and laughed,
and answered, 'Why cannot you always be a good man, father?' But as soon
as she saw him vexed again, she kissed his hand, and said she would sing
him to sleep. She began singing very low, till his fingers dropped from
hers, and his head sank on his breast. Then I told her to hush, and not
stir, for fear she should wake him. We all kept as mute as mice a full
half-hour, and should have done so longer, only Joseph, having finished
his chapter, got up and said that he must rouse the master for prayers
and bed. He stepped forward, and called him by name, and touched his shoulder;
but he would not move: so he took the candle and looked at him. I thought
there was something wrong as he set down the light; and seizing the children
each by an arm, whispered them to 'frame up- stairs, and make little din
-- they might pray alone that evening -- he had summut to do.'
'I shall bid father good-night first,' said Catherine,
putting her arms round his neck, before we could hinder her. The poor thing
discovered her loss directly -- she screamed out -- 'Oh, he's dead, Heathcliff!
he's dead!' And they both set up a heart-breaking cry.
I joined my wail to theirs, loud and bitter; but
Joseph asked what we could be thinking of to roar in that way over a saint
in heaven. He told me to put on my cloak and run to Gimmerton for the doctor
and the parson. I could not guess the use that either would be of, then.
However, I went, through wind and rain, and brought one, the doctor, back
with me; the other said he would come in the morning. Leaving Joseph to
explain matters, I ran to the children's room: their door was ajar, I saw
they had never lain down, though it was past midnight; but they were calmer,
and did not need me to console them. The little souls were comforting each
other with better thoughts than I could have hit on: no parson in the world
ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their innocent talk;
and, while I sobbed and listened, I could not help wishing we were all
there safe together.
CHAPTER VI
Mr. Hindley came home to the funeral; and -- a thing
that amazed us, and set the neighbours gossiping right and left -- he brought
a wife with him. What she was, and where she was born, he never informed
us: probably, she had neither money nor name to recommend her, or he would
scarcely have kept the union from his father.
She was not one that would have disturbed the house
much on her own account. Every object she saw, the moment she crossed the
threshold, appeared to delight her; and every circumstance that took place
about her: except the preparing for the burial, and the presence of the
mourners. I thought she was half silly, from her behaviour while that went
on: she ran into her chamber, and made me come with her, though I should
have been dressing the children: and there she sat shivering and clasping
her hands, and asking repeatedly -- 'Are they gone yet?' Then she began
describing with hysterical emotion the effect it produced on her to see
black; and started, and trembled, and, at last, fell a-weeping -- and when
I asked what was the matter, answered, she didn't know; but she felt so
afraid of dying! I imagined her as little likely to die as myself. She
was rather thin, but young, and fresh-complexioned, and her eyes sparkled
as bright as diamonds. I did remark, to be sure, that mounting the stairs
made her breathe very quick; that the least sudden noise set her all in
a quiver, and that she coughed troublesomely sometimes: but I knew nothing
of what these symptoms portended, and had no impulse to sympathise with
her. We don't in general take to foreigners here, Mr. Lockwood, unless
they take to us first.
Young Earnshaw was altered considerably in the three
years of his absence. He had grown sparer, and lost his colour, and spoke
and dressed quite differently; and, on the very day of his return, he told
Joseph and me we must thenceforth quarter ourselves in the back-kitchen,
and leave the house for him. Indeed, he would have carpeted and papered
a small spare room for a parlour; but his wife expressed such pleasure
at the white floor and huge glowing fireplace, at the pewter dishes and
delf-case, and dog-kennel, and the wide space there was to move about in
where they usually sat, that he thought it unnecessary to her comfort,
and so dropped the intention.
She expressed pleasure, too, at finding a sister
among her new acquaintance; and she prattled to Catherine, and kissed her,
and ran about with her, and gave her quantities of presents, at the beginning.
Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish, Hindley
became tyrannical. A few words from her, evincing a dislike to Heathcliff,
were enough to rouse in him all his old hatred of the boy. He drove him
from their company to the servants, deprived him of the instructions of
the curate, and insisted that he should labour out of doors instead; compelling
him to do so as hard as any other lad on the farm.
Heathcliff bore his degradation pretty well at first,
because Cathy taught him what she learnt, and worked or played with him
in the fields. They both promised fair to grow up as rude as savages; the
young master being entirely negligent how they behaved, and what they did,
so they kept clear of him. He would not even have seen after their going
to church on Sundays, only Joseph and the curate reprimanded his carelessness
when they absented themselves; and that reminded him to order Heathcliff
a flogging, and Catherine a fast from dinner or supper. But it was one
of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the morning and remain
there all day, and the after punishment grew a mere thing to laugh at.
The curate might set as many chapters as he pleased for Catherine to get
by heart, and Joseph might thrash Heathcliff till his arm ached; they forgot
everything the minute they were together again: at least the minute they
had contrived some naughty plan of revenge; and many a time I've cried
to myself to watch them growing more reckless daily, and I not daring to
speak a syllable, for fear of losing the small power I still retained over
the unfriended creatures. One Sunday evening, it chanced that they were
banished from the sitting-room, for making a noise, or a light offence
of the kind; and when I went to call them to supper, I could discover them
nowhere. We searched the house, above and below, and the yard and stables;
they were invisible: and, at last, Hindley in a passion told us to bolt
the doors, and swore nobody should let them in that night. The household
went to bed; and I, too, anxious to lie down, opened my lattice and put
my head out to hearken, though it rained: determined to admit them in spite
of the prohibition, should they return. In a while, I distinguished steps
coming up the road, and the light of a lantern glimmered through the gate.
I threw a shawl over my head and ran to prevent them from waking Mr. Earnshaw
by knocking. There was Heathcliff, by himself: it gave me a start to see
him alone.
'Where is Miss Catherine?' I cried hurriedly. 'No
accident, I hope?' 'At Thrushcross Grange,' he answered; 'and I would have
been there too, but they had not the manners to ask me to stay.' 'Well,
you will catch it!' I said: 'you'll never be content till you're sent about
your business. What in the world led you wandering to Thrushcross Grange?'
'Let me get off my wet clothes, and I'll tell you all about it, Nelly,'
he replied. I bid him beware of rousing the master, and while he undressed
and I waited to put out the candle, he continued -- 'Cathy and I escaped
from the wash-house to have a ramble at liberty, and getting a glimpse
of the Grange lights, we thought we would just go and see whether the Lintons
passed their Sunday evenings standing shivering in corners, while their
father and mother sat eating and drinking, and singing and laughing, and
burning their eyes out before the fire. Do you think they do? Or reading
sermons, and being catechised by their manservant, and set to learn a column
of Scripture names, if they don't answer properly?' 'Probably not,' I responded.
'They are good children, no doubt, and don't deserve the treatment you
receive, for your bad conduct.' 'Don't cant, Nelly,' he said: 'nonsense!
We ran from the top of the Heights to the park, without stopping -- Catherine
completely beaten in the race, because she was barefoot. You'll have to
seek for her shoes in the bog to-morrow. We crept through a broken hedge,
groped our way up the path, and planted ourselves on a flower-plot under
the drawing-room window. The light came from thence; they had not put up
the shutters, and the curtains were only half closed. Both of us were able
to look in by standing on the basement, and clinging to the ledge, and
we saw -- ah! it was beautiful -- a splendid place carpeted with crimson,
and crimson-covered chairs and tables, and a pure white ceiling bordered
by gold, a shower of glass-drops hanging in silver chains from the centre,
and shimmering with little soft tapers. Old Mr. and Mrs. Linton were not
there; Edgar and his sisters had it entirely to themselves. Shouldn't they
have been happy? We should have thought ourselves in heaven! And now, guess
what your good children were doing? Isabella -- I believe she is eleven,
a year younger than Cathy -- lay screaming at the farther end of the room,
shrieking as if witches were running red-hot needles into her. Edgar stood
on the hearth weeping silently, and in the middle of the table sat a little
dog, shaking its paw and yelping; which, from their mutual accusations,
we understood they had nearly pulled in two between them. The idiots! That
was their pleasure! to quarrel who should hold a heap of warm hair, and
each begin to cry because both, after struggling to get it, refused to
take it. We laughed outright at the petted things; we did despise them!
When would you catch me wishing to have what Catherine wanted? or find
us by ourselves, seeking entertainment in yelling, and sobbing, and rolling
on the ground, divided by the whole room? I'd not exchange, for a thousand
lives, my condition here, for Edgar Linton's at Thrushcross Grange -- not
if I might have the privilege of flinging Joseph off the highest gable,
and painting the house- front with Hindley's blood!'
'Hush, hush!' I interrupted. 'Still you have not
told me, Heathcliff, how Catherine is left behind?'
'I told you we laughed,' he answered. 'The Lintons
heard us, and with one accord they shot like arrows to the door; there
was silence, and then a cry, "Oh, mamma, mamma! Oh, papa! Oh, mamma, come
here. Oh, papa, oh!" They really did howl out something in that way. We
made frightful noises to terrify them still more, and then we dropped off
the ledge, because somebody was drawing the bars, and we felt we had better
flee. I had Cathy by the hand, and was urging her on, when all at once
she fell down. "Run, Heathcliff, run!" she whispered. "They have let the
bull-dog loose, and he holds me!" The devil had seized her ankle, Nelly:
I heard his abominable snorting. She did not yell out -- no! she would
have scorned to do it, if she had been spitted on the horns of a mad cow.
I did, though: I vociferated curses enough to annihilate any fiend in Christendom;
and I got a stone and thrust it between his jaws, and tried with all my
might to cram it down his throat. A beast of a servant came up with a lantern,
at last, shouting -- "Keep fast, Skulker, keep fast!" He changed his note,
however, when he saw Skulker's game. The dog was throttled off; his huge,
purple tongue hanging half a foot out of his mouth, and his pendent lips
streaming with bloody slaver. The man took Cathy up; she was sick: not
from fear, I'm certain, but from pain. He carried her in; I followed, grumbling
execrations and vengeance. "What prey, Robert?" hallooed Linton from the
entrance. "Skulker has caught a little girl, sir," he replied; "and there's
a lad here," he added, making a clutch at me, "who looks an out-and- outer!
Very like the robbers were for putting them through the window to open
the doors to the gang after all were asleep, that they might murder us
at their ease. Hold your tongue, you foul- mouthed thief, you! you shall
go to the gallows for this. Mr. Linton, sir, don't lay by your gun." "No,
no, Robert," said the old fool. "The rascals knew that yesterday was my
rent-day: they thought to have me cleverly. Come in; I'll furnish them
a reception. There, John, fasten the chain. Give Skulker some water, Jenny.
To beard a magistrate in his stronghold, and on the Sabbath, too! Where
will their insolence stop? Oh, my dear Mary, look here! Don't be afraid,
it is but a boy -- yet the villain scowls so plainly in his face; would
it not be a kindness to the country to hang him at once, before he shows
his nature in acts as well as features?" He pulled me under the chandelier,
and Mrs. Linton placed her spectacles on her nose and raised her hands
in horror. The cowardly children crept nearer also, Isabella lisping --
"Frightful thing! Put him in the cellar, papa. He's exactly like the son
of the fortune-teller that stole my tame pheasant. Isn't he, Edgar?"
'While they examined me, Cathy came round; she heard
the last speech, and laughed. Edgar Linton, after an inquisitive stare,
collected sufficient wit to recognise her. They see us at church, you know,
though we seldom meet them elsewhere. "That's Miss Earnshaw?" he whispered
to his mother, "and look how Skulker has bitten her -- how her foot bleeds!"
'"Miss Earnshaw? Nonsense!" cried the dame; "Miss
Earnshaw scouring the country with a gipsy! And yet, my dear, the child
is in mourning -- surely it is -- and she may be lamed for life!"
'"What culpable carelessness in her brother!" exclaimed
Mr. Linton, turning from me to Catherine. "I've understood from Shielders"'
(that was the curate, sir) '"that he lets her grow up in absolute heathenism.
But who is this? Where did she pick up this companion? Oho! I declare he
is that strange acquisition my late neighbour made, in his journey to Liverpool
-- a little Lascar, or an American or Spanish castaway."
'"A wicked boy, at all events," remarked the old
lady, "and quite unfit for a decent house! Did you notice his language,
Linton? I'm shocked that my children should have heard it."
'I recommenced cursing -- don't be angry, Nelly --
and so Robert was ordered to take me off. I refused to go without Cathy;
he dragged me into the garden, pushed the lantern into my hand, assured
me that Mr. Earnshaw should be informed of my behaviour, and, bidding me
march directly, secured the door again. The curtains were still looped
up at one corner, and I resumed my station as spy; because, if Catherine
had wished to return, I intended shattering their great glass panes to
a million of fragments, unless they let her out. She sat on the sofa quietly.
Mrs. Linton took off the grey cloak of the dairy-maid which we had borrowed
for our excursion, shaking her head and expostulating with her, I suppose:
she was a young lady, and they made a distinction between her treatment
and mine. Then the woman-servant brought a basin of warm water, and washed
her feet; and Mr. Linton mixed a tumbler of negus, and Isabella emptied
a plateful of cakes into her lap, and Edgar stood gaping at a distance.
Afterwards, they dried and combed her beautiful hair, and gave her a pair
of enormous slippers, and wheeled her to the fire; and I left her, as merry
as she could be, dividing her food between the little dog and Skulker,
whose nose she pinched as he ate; and kindling a spark of spirit in the
vacant blue eyes of the Lintons -- a dim reflection from her own enchanting
face. I saw they were full of stupid admiration; she is so immeasurably
superior to them -- to everybody on earth, is she not, Nelly?'
'There will more come of this business than you reckon
on,' I answered, covering him up and extinguishing the light. 'You are
incurable, Heathcliff; and Mr. Hindley will have to proceed to extremities,
see if he won't.' My words came truer than I desired. The luckless adventure
made Earnshaw furious. And then Mr. Linton, to mend matters, paid us a
visit himself on the morrow, and read the young master such a lecture on
the road he guided his family, that he was stirred to look about him, in
earnest. Heathcliff received no flogging, but he was told that the first
word he spoke to Miss Catherine should ensure a dismissal; and Mrs. Earnshaw
undertook to keep her sister-in-law in due restraint when she returned
home; employing art, not force: with force she would have found it impossible.
CHAPTER VII
Cathy stayed at Thrushcross Grange five weeks: till
Christmas. By that time her ankle was thoroughly cured, and her manners
much improved. The mistress visited her often in the interval, and commenced
her plan of reform by trying to raise her self-respect with fine clothes
and flattery, which she took readily; so that, instead of a wild, hatless
little savage jumping into the house, and rushing to squeeze us all breathless,
there 'lighted from a handsome black pony a very dignified person, with
brown ringlets falling from the cover of a feathered beaver, and a long
cloth habit, which she was obliged to hold up with both hands that she
might sail in. Hindley lifted her from her horse, exclaiming delightedly,
'Why, Cathy, you are quite a beauty! I should scarcely have known you:
you look like a lady now. Isabella Linton is not to be compared with her,
is she, Frances?' 'Isabella has not her natural advantages,' replied his
wife: 'but she must mind and not grow wild again here. Ellen, help Miss
Catherine off with her things -- Stay, dear, you will disarrange your curls
-- let me untie your hat.'
I removed the habit, and there shone forth beneath
a grand plaid silk frock, white trousers, and burnished shoes; and, while
her eyes sparkled joyfully when the dogs came bounding up to welcome her,
she dared hardly touch them lest they should fawn upon her splendid garments.
She kissed me gently: I was all flour making the Christmas cake, and it
would not have done to give me a hug; and then she looked round for Heathcliff.
Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw watched anxiously their meeting; thinking it would
enable them to judge, in some measure, what grounds they had for hoping
to succeed in separating the two friends.
Heathcliff was hard to discover, at first. If he
were careless, and uncared for, before Catherine's absence, he had been
ten times more so since. Nobody but I even did him the kindness to call
him a dirty boy, and bid him wash himself, once a week; and children of
his age seldom have a natural pleasure in soap and water. Therefore, not
to mention his clothes, which had seen three months' service in mire and
dust, and his thick uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was
dismally beclouded. He might well skulk behind the settle, on beholding
such a bright, graceful damsel enter the house, instead of a rough-headed
counterpart of himself, as he expected. 'Is Heathcliff not here?' she demanded,
pulling off her gloves, and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened with
doing nothing and staying indoors.
'Heathcliff, you may come forward,' cried Mr. Hindley,
enjoying his discomfiture, and gratified to see what a forbidding young
blackguard he would be compelled to present himself. 'You may come and
wish Miss Catherine welcome, like the other servants.'
Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend in his concealment,
flew to embrace him; she bestowed seven or eight kisses on his cheek within
the second, and then stopped, and drawing back, burst into a laugh, exclaiming,
'Why, how very black and cross you look! and how -- how funny and grim!
But that's because I'm used to Edgar and Isabella Linton. Well, Heathcliff,
have you forgotten me?'
She had some reason to put the question, for shame
and pride threw double gloom over his countenance, and kept him immovable.
'Shake hands, Heathcliff,' said Mr. Earnshaw, condescendingly;
'once in a way, that is permitted.'
'I shall not,' replied the boy, finding his tongue
at last; 'I shall not stand to be laughed at. I shall not bear it!' And
he would have broken from the circle, but Miss Cathy seized him again.
'I did not mean to laugh at you,' she said; 'I could
not hinder myself: Heathcliff, shake hands at least! What are you sulky
for? It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face and brush your
hair, it will be all right: but you are so dirty!'
She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held
in her own, and also at her dress; which she feared had gained no embellishment
from its contact with his.
'You needn't have touched me!' he answered, following
her eye and snatching away his hand. 'I shall be as dirty as I please:
and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty.'
With that he dashed headforemost out of the room,
amid the merriment of the master and mistress, and to the serious disturbance
of Catherine; who could not comprehend how her remarks should have produced
such an exhibition of bad temper.
After playing lady's-maid to the new-comer, and putting
my cakes in the oven, and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great
fires, befitting Christmas-eve, I prepared to sit down and amuse myself
by singing carols, all alone; regardless of Joseph's affirmations that
he considered the merry tunes I chose as next door to songs. He had retired
to private prayer in his chamber, and Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging
Missy's attention by sundry gay trifles bought for her to present to the
little Lintons, as an acknowledgment of their kindness. They had invited
them to spend the morrow at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been
accepted, on one condition: Mrs. Linton begged that her darlings might
be kept carefully apart from that 'naughty swearing boy.'
Under these circumstances I remained solitary. I
smelt the rich scent of the heating spices; and admired the shining kitchen
utensils, the polished clock, decked in holly, the silver mugs ranged on
a tray ready to be filled with mulled ale for supper; and above all, the
speckless purity of my particular care -- the scoured and well-swept floor.
I gave due inward applause to every object, and then I remembered how old
Earnshaw used to come in when all was tidied, and call me a cant lass,
and slip a shilling into my hand as a Christmas-box; and from that I went
on to think of his fondness for Heathcliff, and his dread lest he should
suffer neglect after death had removed him: and that naturally led me to
consider the poor lad's situation now, and from singing I changed my mind
to crying. It struck me soon, however, there would be more sense in endeavouring
to repair some of his wrongs than shedding tears over them: I got up and
walked into the court to seek him. He was not far; I found him smoothing
the glossy coat of the new pony in the stable, and feeding the other beasts,
according to custom.
'Make haste, Heathcliff!' I said, 'the kitchen is
so comfortable; and Joseph is up-stairs: make haste, and let me dress you
smart before Miss Cathy comes out, and then you can sit together, with
the whole hearth to yourselves, and have a long chatter till bedtime.'
He proceeded with his task, and never turned his
head towards me.
'Come -- are you coming?' I continued. 'There's a
little cake for each of you, nearly enough; and you'll need half-an-hour's
donning.'
I waited five minutes, but getting no answer left
him. Catherine supped with her brother and sister-in-law: Joseph and I
joined at an unsociable meal, seasoned with reproofs on one side and sauciness
on the other. His cake and cheese remained on the table all night for the
fairies. He managed to continue work till nine o'clock, and then marched
dumb and dour to his chamber. Cathy sat up late, having a world of things
to order for the reception of her new friends: she came into the kitchen
once to speak to her old one; but he was gone, and she only stayed to ask
what was the matter with him, and then went back. In the morning he rose
early; and, as it was a holiday, carried his ill-humour on to the moors;
not re-appearing till the family were departed for church. Fasting and
reflection seemed to have brought him to a better spirit. He hung about
me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed abruptly --
'Nelly, make me decent, I'm going to be good.'
'High time, Heathcliff,' I said; 'you have
grieved Catherine: she's sorry she ever came home, I daresay! It looks
as if you envied her, because she is more thought of than you.'
The notion of envying Catherine was incomprehensible
to him, but the notion of grieving her he understood clearly enough.
'Did she say she was grieved?' he inquired, looking
very serious.
'She cried when I told her you were off again this
morning.'
'Well, I cried last night,' he returned, 'and
I had more reason to cry than she.'
'Yes: you had the reason of going to bed with a proud
heart and an empty stomach,' said I. 'Proud people breed sad sorrows for
themselves. But, if you be ashamed of your touchiness, you must ask pardon,
mind, when she comes in. You must go up and offer to kiss her, and say
-- you know best what to say; only do it heartily, and not as if you thought
her converted into a stranger by her grand dress. And now, though I have
dinner to get ready, I'll steal time to arrange you so that Edgar Linton
shall look quite a doll beside you: and that he does. You are younger,
and yet, I'll be bound, you are taller and twice as broad across the shoulders;
you could knock him down in a twinkling; don't you feel that you could?'
Heathcliff's face brightened a moment; then it was
overcast afresh, and he sighed.
'But, Nelly, if I knocked him down twenty times,
that wouldn't make him less handsome or me more so. I wish I had light
hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance
of being as rich as he will be!'
'And cried for mamma at every turn,' I added, 'and
trembled if a country lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home
all day for a shower of rain. Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit!
Come to the glass, and I'll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark
those two lines between your eyes; and those thick brows, that, instead
of rising arched, sink in the middle; and that couple of black fiends,
so deeply buried, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting
under them, like devil's spies? Wish and learn to smooth away the surly
wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident,
innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends
where they are not sure of foes. Don't get the expression of a vicious
cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its desert, and yet hates
all the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.'
'In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton's great
blue eyes and even forehead,' he replied. 'I do -- and that won't help
me to them.'
'A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,'
I continued, 'if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the
bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we've done washing,
and combing, and sulking -- tell me whether you don't think yourself rather
handsome? I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for a prince in disguise. Who
knows but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen,
each of them able to buy up, with one week's income, Wuthering Heights
and Thrushcross Grange together? And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors
and brought to England. Were I in your place, I would frame high notions
of my birth; and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and
dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!'
So I chattered on; and Heathcliff gradually lost
his frown and began to look quite pleasant, when all at once our conversation
was interrupted by a rumbling sound moving up the road and entering the
court. He ran to the window and I to the door, just in time to behold the
two Lintons descend from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs,
and the Earnshaws dismount from their horses: they often rode to church
in winter. Catherine took a hand of each of the children, and brought them
into the house and set them before the fire, which quickly put colour into
their white faces.
I urged my companion to hasten now and show his amiable
humour, and he willingly obeyed; but ill luck would have it that, as he
opened the door leading from the kitchen on one side, Hindley opened it
on the other. They met, and the master, irritated at seeing him clean and
cheerful, or, perhaps, eager to keep his promise to Mrs. Linton, shoved
him back with a sudden thrust, and angrily bade Joseph 'keep the fellow
out of the room -- send him into the garret till dinner is over. He'll
be cramming his fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit, if left alone
with them a minute.'
'Nay, sir,' I could not avoid answering, 'he'll touch
nothing, not he: and I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as
well as we.'
'He shall have his share of my hand, if I catch him
downstairs till dark,' cried Hindley. 'Begone, you vagabond! What! you
are attempting the coxcomb, are you? Wait till I get hold of those elegant
locks -- see if I won't pull them a bit longer!'
'They are long enough already,' observed Master Linton,
peeping from the doorway; 'I wonder they don't make his head ache. It's
like a colt's mane over his eyes!'
He ventured this remark without any intention to
insult; but Heathcliff's violent nature was not prepared to endure the
appearance of impertinence from one whom he seemed to hate, even then,
as a rival. He seized a tureen of hot apple sauce (the first thing that
came under his gripe) and dashed it full against the speaker's face and
neck; who instantly commenced a lament that brought Isabella and Catherine
hurrying to the place. Mr. Earnshaw snatched up the culprit directly and
conveyed him to his chamber; where, doubtless, he administered a rough
remedy to cool the fit of passion, for he appeared red and breathless.
I got the dishcloth, and rather spitefully scrubbed Edgar's nose and mouth,
affirming it served him right for meddling. His sister began weeping to
go home, and Cathy stood by confounded, blushing for all.
'You should not have spoken to him!' she expostulated
with Master Linton. 'He was in a bad temper, and now you've spoilt your
visit; and he'll be flogged: I hate him to be flogged! I can't eat my dinner.
Why did you speak to him, Edgar?'
'I didn't,' sobbed the youth, escaping from my hands,
and finishing the remainder of the purification with his cambric pocket-
handkerchief. 'I promised mamma that I wouldn't say one word to him, and
I didn't.'
'Well, don't cry,' replied Catherine, contemptuously;
'you're not killed. Don't make more mischief; my brother is coming: be
quiet! Hush, Isabella! Has anybody hurt you?'
'There, there, children -- to your seats!' cried
Hindley, bustling in. 'That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely. Next time,
Master Edgar, take the law into your own fists -- it will give you an appetite!'
The little party recovered its equanimity at sight
of the fragrant feast. They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled,
since no real harm had befallen them. Mr. Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls,
and the mistress made them merry with lively talk. I waited behind her
chair, and was pained to behold Catherine, with dry eyes and an indifferent
air, commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her. 'An unfeeling
child,' I thought to myself; 'how lightly she dismisses her old playmate's
troubles. I could not have imagined her to be so selfish.' She lifted a
mouthful to her lips: then she set it down again: her cheeks flushed, and
the tears gushed over them. She slipped her fork to the floor, and hastily
dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion. I did not call her unfeeling
long; for I perceived she was in purgatory throughout the day, and wearying
to find an opportunity of getting by herself, or paying a visit to Heathcliff,
who had been locked up by the master: as I discovered, on endeavouring
to introduce to him a private mess of victuals.
In the evening we had a dance. Cathy begged that
he might be liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner: her entreaties
were vain, and I was appointed to supply the deficiency. We got rid of
all gloom in the excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased
by the arrival of the Gimmerton band, mustering fifteen strong: a trumpet,
a trombone, clarionets, bassoons, French horns, and a bass viol, besides
singers. They go the rounds of all the respectable houses, and receive
contributions every Christmas, and we esteemed it a first-rate treat to
hear them. After the usual carols had been sung, we set them to songs and
glees. Mrs. Earnshaw loved the music, and so they gave us plenty.
Catherine loved it too: but she said it sounded sweetest
at the top of the steps, and she went up in the dark: I followed. They
shut the house door below, never noting our absence, it was so full of
people. She made no stay at the stairs'-head, but mounted farther, to the
garret where Heathcliff was confined, and called him. He stubbornly declined
answering for a while: she persevered, and finally persuaded him to hold
communion with her through the boards. I let the poor things converse unmolested,
till I supposed the songs were going to cease, and the singers to get some
refreshment: then I clambered up the ladder to warn her. Instead of finding
her outside, I heard her voice within. The little monkey had crept by the
skylight of one garret, along the roof, into the skylight of the other,
and it was with the utmost difficulty I could coax her out again. When
she did come, Heathcliff came with her, and she insisted that I should
take him into the kitchen, as my fellow-servant had gone to a neighbour's,
to be removed from the sound of our 'devil's psalmody,' as it pleased him
to call it. I told them I intended by no means to encourage their tricks:
but as the prisoner had never broken his fast since yesterday's dinner,
I would wink at his cheating Mr. Hindley that once. He went down: I set
him a stool by the fire, and offered him a quantity of good things: but
he was sick and could eat little, and my attempts to entertain him were
thrown away. He leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his
hands and remained rapt in dumb meditation. On my inquiring the subject
of his thoughts, he answered gravely -- 'I'm trying to settle how I shall
pay Hindley back. I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at
last. I hope he will not die before I do!'
'For shame, Heathcliff!' said I. 'It is for God to
punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.'
'No, God won't have the satisfaction that I shall,'
he returned. 'I only wish I knew the best way! Let me alone, and I'll plan
it out: while I'm thinking of that I don't feel pain.'
'But, Mr. Lockwood, I forget these tales cannot divert
you. I'm annoyed how I should dream of chattering on at such a rate; and
your gruel cold, and you nodding for bed! I could have told Heathcliff's
history, all that you need hear, in half a dozen words.'
Thus interrupting herself, the housekeeper rose,
and proceeded to lay aside her sewing; but I felt incapable of moving from
the hearth, and I was very far from nodding. 'Sit still, Mrs. Dean,' I
cried; 'do sit still another half-hour. You've done just right to tell
the story leisurely. That is the method I like; and you must finish it
in the same style. I am interested in every character you have mentioned,
more or less.'
'The clock is on the stroke of eleven, sir.'
'No matter -- I'm not accustomed to go to bed in
the long hours. One or two is early enough for a person who lies till ten.'
'You shouldn't lie till ten. There's the very prime
of the morning gone long before that time. A person who has not done one-half
his day's work by ten o'clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half
undone.'
'Nevertheless, Mrs. Dean, resume your chair; because
to-morrow I intend lengthening the night till afternoon. I prognosticate
for myself an obstinate cold, at least.'
'I hope not, sir. Well, you must allow me to leap
over some three years; during that space Mrs. Earnshaw' ----
'No, no, I'll allow nothing of the sort! Are you
acquainted with the mood of mind in which, if you were seated alone, and
the cat licking its kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation
so intently that puss's neglect of one ear would put you seriously out
of temper?'
'A terribly lazy mood, I should say.'
'On the contrary, a tiresomely active one. It is
mine, at present; and, therefore, continue minutely. I perceive that people
in these regions acquire over people in towns the value that a spider in
a dungeon does over a spider in a cottage, to their various occupants;
and yet the deepened attraction is not entirely owing to the situation
of the looker-on. They do live more in earnest, more in themselves,
and less in surface, change, and frivolous external things. I could fancy
a love for life here almost possible; and I was a fixed unbeliever in any
love of a year's standing. One state resembles setting a hungry man down
to a single dish, on which he may concentrate his entire appetite and do
it justice; the other, introducing him to a table laid out by French cooks:
he can perhaps extract as much enjoyment from the whole; but each part
is a mere atom in his regard and remembrance.'
'Oh! here we are the same as anywhere else, when
you get to know us,' observed Mrs. Dean, somewhat puzzled at my speech.
'Excuse me,' I responded; 'you, my good friend, are
a striking evidence against that assertion. Excepting a few provincialisms
of slight consequence, you have no marks of the manners which I am habituated
to consider as peculiar to your class. I am sure you have thought a great
deal more than the generality of servants think. You have been compelled
to cultivate your reflective faculties for want of occasions for frittering
your life away in silly trifles.'
Mrs. Dean laughed.
'I certainly esteem myself a steady, reasonable kind
of body,' she said; 'not exactly from living among the hills and seeing
one set of faces, and one series of actions, from year's end to year's
end; but I have undergone sharp discipline, which has taught me wisdom;
and then, I have read more than you would fancy, Mr. Lockwood. You could
not open a book in this library that I have not looked into, and got something
out of also: unless it be that range of Greek and Latin, and that of French;
and those I know one from another: it is as much as you can expect of a
poor man's daughter. However, if I am to follow my story in true gossip's
fashion, I had better go on; and instead of leaping three years, I will
be content to pass to the next summer -- the summer of 1778, that is nearly
twenty-three years ago.'
CHAPTER VIII
On the morning of a fine June day my first bonny
little nursling, and the last of the ancient Earnshaw stock, was born.
We were busy with the hay in a far-away field, when the girl that usually
brought our breakfasts came running an hour too soon across the meadow
and up the lane, calling me as she ran.
'Oh, such a grand bairn!' she panted out. 'The finest
lad that ever breathed! But the doctor says missis must go: he says she's
been in a consumption these many months. I heard him tell Mr. Hindley:
and now she has nothing to keep her, and she'll be dead before winter.
You must come home directly. You're to nurse it, Nelly: to feed it with
sugar and milk, and take care of it day and night. I wish I were you, because
it will be all yours when there is no missis!'
'But is she very ill?' I asked, flinging down my
rake and tying my bonnet.
'I guess she is; yet she looks bravely,' replied
the girl, 'and she talks as if she thought of living to see it grow a man.
She's out of her head for joy, it's such a beauty! If I were her I'm certain
I should not die: I should get better at the bare sight of it, in spite
of Kenneth. I was fairly mad at him. Dame Archer brought the cherub down
to master, in the house, and his face just began to light up, when the
old croaker steps forward, and says he -- "Earnshaw, it's a blessing your
wife has been spared to leave you this son. When she came, I felt convinced
we shouldn't keep her long; and now, I must tell you, the winter will probably
finish her. Don't take on, and fret about it too much: it can't be helped.
And besides, you should have known better than to choose such a rush of
a lass!"'
'And what did the master answer?' I inquired.
'I think he swore: but I didn't mind him, I was straining
to see the bairn,' and she began again to describe it rapturously. I, as
zealous as herself, hurried eagerly home to admire, on my part; though
I was very sad for Hindley's sake. He had room in his heart only for two
idols -- his wife and himself: he doted on both, and adored one, and I
couldn't conceive how he would bear the loss.
When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood
at the front door; and, as I passed in, I asked, 'how was the baby?'
'Nearly ready to run about, Nell!' he replied, putting
on a cheerful smile.
'And the mistress?' I ventured to inquire; 'the doctor
says she's ----'
'Damn the doctor!' he interrupted, reddening. 'Frances
is quite right: she'll be perfectly well by this time next week. Are you
going up-stairs? will you tell her that I'll come, if she'll promise not
to talk. I left her because she would not hold her tongue; and she must
-- tell her Mr. Kenneth says she must be quiet.'
I delivered this message to Mrs. Earnshaw; she seemed
in flighty spirits, and replied merrily, 'I hardly spoke a word, Ellen,
and there he has gone out twice, crying. Well, say I promise I won't speak:
but that does not bind me not to laugh at him!'
Poor soul! Till within a week of her death that gay
heart never failed her; and her husband persisted doggedly, nay, furiously,
in affirming her health improved every day. When Kenneth warned him that
his medicines were useless at that stage of the malady, and he needn't
put him to further expense by attending her, he retorted, 'I know you need
not -- she's well -- she does not want any more attendance from you! She
never was in a consumption. It was a fever; and it is gone: her pulse is
as slow as mine now, and her cheek as cool.'
He told his wife the same story, and she seemed to
believe him; but one night, while leaning on his shoulder, in the act of
saying she thought she should be able to get up to-morrow, a fit of coughing
took her -- a very slight one -- he raised her in his arms; she put her
two hands about his neck, her face changed, and she was dead.
As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell
wholly into my hands. Mr. Earnshaw, provided he saw him healthy and never
heard him cry, was contented, as far as regarded him. For himself, he grew
desperate: his sorrow was of that kind that will not lament. He neither
wept nor prayed; he cursed and defied: execrated God and man, and gave
himself up to reckless dissipation. The servants could not bear his tyrannical
and evil conduct long: Joseph and I were the only two that would stay.
I had not the heart to leave my charge; and besides, you know, I had been
his foster-sister, and excused his behaviour more readily than a stranger
would. Joseph remained to hector over tenants and labourers; and because
it was his vocation to be where he had plenty of wickedness to reprove.
The master's bad ways and bad companions formed a
pretty example for Catherine and Heathcliff. His treatment of the latter
was enough to make a fiend of a saint. And, truly, it appeared as if the
lad were possessed of something diabolical at that period. He delighted
to witness Hindley degrading himself past redemption; and became daily
more notable for savage sullenness and ferocity. I could not half tell
what an infernal house we had. The curate dropped calling, and nobody decent
came near us, at last; unless Edgar Linton's visits to Miss Cathy might
be an exception. At fifteen she was the queen of the country-side; she
had no peer; and she did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature! I own
I did not like her, after infancy was past; and I vexed her frequently
by trying to bring down her arrogance: she never took an aversion to me,
though. She had a wondrous constancy to old attachments: even Heathcliff
kept his hold on her affections unalterably; and young Linton, with all
his superiority, found it difficult to make an equally deep impression.
He was my late master: that is his portrait over the fireplace. It used
to hang on one side, and his wife's on the other; but hers has been removed,
or else you might see something of what she was. Can you make that out?
Mrs. Dean raised the candle, and I discerned a soft-featured
face, exceedingly resembling the young lady at the Heights, but more pensive
and amiable in expression. It formed a sweet picture. The long light hair
curled slightly on the temples; the eyes were large and serious; the figure
almost too graceful. I did not marvel how Catherine Earnshaw could forget
her first friend for such an individual. I marvelled much how he, with
a mind to correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of Catherine
Earnshaw.
'A very agreeable portrait,' I observed to the house-keeper.
'Is it like?'
'Yes,' she answered; 'but he looked better when he
was animated; that is his everyday countenance: he wanted spirit in general.'
Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Lintons
since her five-weeks' residence among them; and as she had no temptation
to show her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed
of being rude where she experienced such invariable courtesy, she imposed
unwittingly on the old lady and gentleman by her ingenious cordiality;
gained the admiration of Isabella, and the heart and soul of her brother:
acquisitions that flattered her from the first -- for she was full of ambition
-- and led her to adopt a double character without exactly intending to
deceive any one. In the place where she heard Heathcliff termed a 'vulgar
young ruffian,' and 'worse than a brute,' she took care not to act like
him; but at home she had small inclination to practise politeness that
would only be laughed at, and restrain an unruly nature when it would bring
her neither credit nor praise.
Mr. Edgar seldom mustered courage to visit Wuthering
Heights openly. He had a terror of Earnshaw's reputation, and shrunk from
encountering him; and yet he was always received with our best attempts
at civility: the master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came;
and if he could not be gracious, kept out of the way. I rather think his
appearance there was distasteful to Catherine; she was not artful, never
played the coquette, and had evidently an objection to her two friends
meeting at all; for when Heathcliff expressed contempt of Linton in his
presence, she could not half coincide, as she did in his absence; and when
Linton evinced disgust and antipathy to Heathcliff, she dared not treat
his sentiments with indifference, as if depreciation of her playmate were
of scarcely any consequence to her. I've had many a laugh at her perplexities
and untold troubles, which she vainly strove to hide from my mockery. That
sounds ill-natured: but she was so proud it became really impossible to
pity her distresses, till she should be chastened into more humility. She
did bring herself, finally, to confess, and to confide in me: there was
not a soul else that she might fashion into an adviser.
Mr. Hindley had gone from home one afternoon, and
Heathcliff presumed to give himself a holiday on the strength of it. He
had reached the age of sixteen then, I think, and without having bad features,
or being deficient in intellect, he contrived to convey an impression of
inward and outward repulsiveness that his present aspect retains no traces
of. In the first place, he had by that time lost the benefit of his early
education: continual hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had extinguished
any curiosity he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and any love for
books or learning. His childhood's sense of superiority, instilled into
him by the favours of old Mr. Earnshaw, was faded away. He struggled long
to keep up an equality with Catherine in her studies, and yielded with
poignant though silent regret: but he yielded completely; and there was
no prevailing on him to take a step in the way of moving upward, when he
found he must, necessarily, sink beneath his former level. Then personal
appearance sympathised with mental deterioration: he acquired a slouching
gait and ignoble look; his naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated
into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable moroseness; and he took a grim
pleasure, apparently, in exciting the aversion rather than the esteem of
his few acquaintance.
Catherine and he were constant companions still at
his seasons of respite from labour; but he had ceased to express his fondness
for her in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses,
as if conscious there could be no gratification in lavishing such marks
of affection on him. On the before-named occasion he came into the house
to announce his intention of doing nothing, while I was assisting Miss
Cathy to arrange her dress: she had not reckoned on his taking it into
his head to be idle; and imagining she would have the whole place to herself,
she managed, by some means, to inform Mr. Edgar of her brother's absence,
and was then preparing to receive him.
'Cathy, are you busy this afternoon?' asked Heathcliff.
'Are you going anywhere?'
'No, it is raining,' she answered.
'Why have you that silk frock on, then?' he said.
'Nobody coming here, I hope?'
'Not that I know of,' stammered Miss: 'but you should
be in the field now, Heathcliff. It is an hour past dinnertime: I thought
you were gone.'
'Hindley does not often free us from his accursed
presence,' observed the boy. 'I'll not work any more to-day: I'll stay
with you.'
'Oh, but Joseph will tell,' she suggested; 'you'd
better go!'
'Joseph is loading lime on the further side of Penistone
Crags; it will take him till dark, and he'll never know.'
So, saying, he lounged to the fire, and sat down.
Catherine reflected an instant, with knitted brows -- she found it needful
to smooth the way for an intrusion. 'Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of
calling this afternoon,' she said, at the conclusion of a minute's silence.
'As it rains, I hardly expect them; but they may come, and if they do,
you run the risk of being scolded for no good.'
'Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy,' he persisted;
'don't turn me out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours! I'm on the
point, sometimes, of complaining that they -- but I'll not ----'
'That they what?' cried Catherine, gazing at him
with a troubled countenance. 'Oh, Nelly!' she added petulantly, jerking
her head away from my hands, 'you've combed my hair quite out of curl!
That's enough; let me alone. What are you on the point of complaining about,
Heathcliff?'
'Nothing -- only look at the almanack on that wall;'
he pointed to a framed sheet hanging near the window, and continued, 'The
crosses are for the evenings you have spent with the Lintons, the dots
for those spent with me. Do you see? I've marked every day.'
'Yes -- very foolish: as if I took notice!' replied
Catherine, in a peevish tone. 'And where is the sense of that?'
'To show that I do take notice,' said Heathcliff.
'And should I always be sitting with you?' she demanded,
growing more irritated. 'What good do I get? What do you talk about? You
might be dumb, or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything
you do, either!'
'You never told me before that I talked too little,
or that you disliked my company, Cathy!' exclaimed Heathcliff, in much
agitation.
'It's no company at all, when people know nothing
and say nothing,' she muttered.
Her companion rose up, but he hadn't time to express
his feelings further, for a horse's feet were heard on the flags, and having
knocked gently, young Linton entered, his face brilliant with delight at
the unexpected summon she had received. Doubtless Catherine marked the
difference between her friends, as one came in and the other went out.
The contrast resembled what you see in exchanging a bleak, hilly, coal
country for a beautiful fertile valley; and his voice and greeting were
as opposite as his aspect. He had a sweet, low manner of speaking, and
pronounced his words as you do: that's less gruff than we talk here, and
softer.
'I'm not come too soon, am I?' he said, casting a
look at me: I had begun to wipe the plate, and tidy some drawers at the
far end in the dresser.
'No,' answered Catherine. 'What are you doing there,
Nelly?'
'My work, Miss,' I replied. (Mr. Hindley had given
me directions to make a third party in any private visits Linton chose
to pay.)
She stepped behind me and whispered crossly, 'Take
yourself and your dusters off; when company are in the house, servants
don't commence scouring and cleaning in the room where they are!'
'It's a good opportunity, now that master is away,'
I answered aloud: 'he hates me to be fidgeting over these things in his
presence. I'm sure Mr. Edgar will excuse me.'
'I hate you to be fidgeting in my presence,'
exclaimed the young lady imperiously, not allowing her guest time to speak:
she had failed to recover her equanimity since the little dispute with
Heathcliff.
'I'm sorry for it, Miss Catherine,' was my response;
and I proceeded assiduously with my occupation.
She, supposing Edgar could not see her, snatched
the cloth from my hand, and pinched me, with a prolonged wrench, very spitefully
on the arm. I've said I did not love her, and rather relished mortifying
her vanity now and then: besides, she hurt me extremely; so I started up
from my knees, and screamed out, 'Oh, Miss, that's a nasty trick! You have
no right to nip me, and I'm not going to bear it.'
'I didn't touch you, you lying creature!' cried she,
her fingers tingling to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage. She
never had power to conceal her passion, it always set her whole complexion
in a blaze.
'What's that, then?' I retorted, showing a decided
purple witness to refute her.
She stamped her foot, wavered a moment, and then,
irresistibly impelled by the naughty spirit within her, slapped me on the
cheek: a stinging blow that filled both eyes with water.
'Catherine, love! Catherine!' interposed Linton,
greatly shocked at the double fault of falsehood and violence which his
idol had committed.
'Leave the room, Ellen!' she repeated, trembling
all over.
Little Hareton, who followed me everywhere, and was
sitting near me on the floor, at seeing my tears commenced crying himself,
and sobbed out complaints against 'wicked aunt Cathy,' which drew her fury
on to his unlucky head: she seized his shoulders, and shook him till the
poor child waxed livid, and Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands
to deliver him. In an instant one was wrung free, and the astonished young
man felt it applied over his own ear in a way that could not be mistaken
for jest. He drew back in consternation. I lifted Hareton in my arms, and
walked off to the kitchen with him, leaving the door of communication open,
for I was curious to watch how they would settle their disagreement. The
insulted visitor moved to the spot where he had laid his hat, pale and
with a quivering lip.
'That's right!' I said to myself. 'Take warning and
begone! It's a kindness to let you have a glimpse of her genuine disposition.'
'Where are you going?' demanded Catherine, advancing
to the door.
He swerved aside, and attempted to pass.
'You must not go!' she exclaimed, energetically.
'I must and shall!' he replied in a subdued voice.
'No,' she persisted, grasping the handle; 'not yet,
Edgar Linton: sit down; you shall not leave me in that temper. I should
be miserable all night, and I won't be miserable for you!'
'Can I stay after you have struck me?' asked Linton.
Catherine was mute.
'You've made me afraid and ashamed of you,' he continued;
'I'll not come here again!'
Her eyes began to glisten and her lids to twinkle.
'And you told a deliberate untruth!' he said.
'I didn't!' she cried, recovering her speech; 'I
did nothing deliberately. Well, go, if you please -- get away! And now
I'll cry -- I'll cry myself sick!'
She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set
to weeping in serious earnest. Edgar persevered in his resolution as far
as the court; there he lingered. I resolved to encourage him.
'Miss is dreadfully wayward, sir,' I called out.
'As bad as any marred child: you'd better be riding home, or else she will
be sick, only to grieve us.'
The soft thing looked askance through the window:
he possessed the power to depart as much as a cat possesses the power to
leave a mouse half killed, or a bird half eaten. Ah, I thought, there will
be no saving him: he's doomed, and flies to his fate! And so it was: he
turned abruptly, hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him;
and when I went in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come
home rabid drunk, ready to pull the whole place about our ears (his ordinary
frame of mind in that condition), I saw the quarrel had merely effected
a closer intimacy -- had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and
enabled them to forsake the disguise of friendship, and confess themselves
lovers.
Intelligence of Mr. Hindley's arrival drove Linton
speedily to his horse, and Catherine to her chamber. I went to hide little
Hareton, and to take the shot out of the master's fowling-piece, which
he was fond of playing with in his insane excitement, to the hazard of
the lives of any who provoked, or even attracted his notice too much; and
I had hit upon the plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief
if he did go the length of firing the gun.
CHAPTER IX
He entered, vociferating oaths dreadful to hear;
and caught me in the act of stowing his son sway in the kitchen cupboard.
Hareton was impressed with a wholesome terror of encountering either his
wild beast's fondness or his madman's rage; for in one he ran a chance
of being squeezed and kissed to death, and in the other of being flung
into the fire, or dashed against the wall; and the poor thing remained
perfectly quiet wherever I chose to put him.
'There, I've found it out at last!' cried Hindley,
pulling me back by the skin of my neck, like a dog. 'By heaven and hell,
you've sworn between you to murder that child! I know how it is, now, that
he is always out of my way. But, with the help of Satan, I shall make you
swallow the carving-knife, Nelly! You needn't laugh; for I've just crammed
Kenneth, head-downmost, in the Black- horse marsh; and two is the same
as one -- and I want to kill some of you: I shall have no rest till I do!'
'But I don't like the carving-knife, Mr. Hindley,'
I answered; 'it has been cutting red herrings. I'd rather be shot, if you
please.'
'You'd rather be damned!' he said; 'and so you shall.
No law in England can hinder a man from keeping his house decent, and mine's
abominable! Open your mouth.' He held the knife in his hand, and pushed
its point between my teeth: but, for my part, I was never much afraid of
his vagaries. I spat out, and affirmed it tasted detestably -- I would
not take it on any account.
'Oh!' said he, releasing me, 'I see that hideous
little villain is not Hareton: I beg your pardon, Nell. If it be, he deserves
flaying alive for not running to welcome me, and for screaming as if I
were a goblin. Unnatural cub, come hither! I'll teach thee to impose on
a good-hearted, deluded father. Now, don't you think the lad would be handsomer
cropped? It makes a dog fiercer, and I love something fierce -- get me
a scissors -- something fierce and trim! Besides, it's infernal affectation
-- devilish conceit it is, to cherish our ears -- we're asses enough without
them. Hush, child, hush! Well then, it is my darling! wisht, dry thy eyes
-- there's a joy; kiss me. What! it won't? Kiss me, Hareton! Damn thee,
kiss me! By God, as if I would rear such a monster! As sure as I'm living,
I'll break the brat's neck.'
Poor Hareton was squalling and kicking in his father's
arms with all his might, and redoubled his yells when he carried him up-
stairs and lifted him over the banister. I cried out that he would frighten
the child into fits, and ran to rescue him. As I reached them, Hindley
leant forward on the rails to listen to a noise below; almost forgetting
what he had in his hands. 'Who is that?' he asked, hearing some one approaching
the stairs'-foot. I leant forward also, for the purpose of signing to Heathcliff,
whose step I recognised, not to come further; and, at the instant when
my eye quitted Hareton, he gave a sudden spring, delivered himself from
the careless grasp that held him, and fell.
There was scarcely time to experience a thrill of
horror before we saw that the little wretch was safe. Heathcliff arrived
underneath just at the critical moment; by a natural impulse he arrested
his descent, and setting him on his feet, looked up to discover the author
of the accident. A miser who has parted with a lucky lottery ticket for
five shillings, and finds next day he has lost in the bargain five thousand
pounds, could not show a blanker countenance than he did on beholding the
figure of Mr. Earnshaw above. It expressed, plainer than words could do,
the intensest anguish at having made himself the instrument of thwarting
his own revenge. Had it been dark, I daresay he would have tried to remedy
the mistake by smashing Hareton's skull on the steps; but, we witnessed
his salvation; and I was presently below with my precious charge pressed
to my heart. Hindley descended more leisurely, sobered and abashed.
'It is your fault, Ellen,' he said; 'you should have
kept him out of sight: you should have taken him from me! Is he injured
anywhere?'
'Injured!' I cried angrily; 'if he is not killed,
he'll be an idiot! Oh! I wonder his mother does not rise from her grave
to see how you use him. You're worse than a heathen -- treating your own
flesh and blood in that manner!' He attempted to touch the child, who,
on finding himself with me, sobbed off his terror directly. At the first
finger his father laid on him, however, he shrieked again louder than before,
and struggled as if he would go into convulsions.
'You shall not meddle with him!' I continued. 'He
hates you -- they all hate you -- that's the truth! A happy family you
have; and a pretty state you're come to!'
'I shall come to a prettier, yet, Nelly,' laughed
the misguided man, recovering his hardness. 'At present, convey yourself
and him away. And hark you, Heathcliff! clear you too quite from my reach
and hearing. I wouldn't murder you to-night; unless, perhaps, I set the
house on fire: but that's as my fancy goes.'
While saying this he took a pint bottle of brandy
from the dresser, and poured some into a tumbler.
'Nay, don't!' I entreated. 'Mr. Hindley, do take
warning. Have mercy on this unfortunate boy, if you care nothing for yourself!'
'Any one will do better for him than I shall,' he
answered.
'Have mercy on your own soul!' I said, endeavouring
to snatch the glass from his hand.
'Not I! On the contrary, I shall have great pleasure
in sending it to perdition to punish its Maker,' exclaimed the blasphemer.
'Here's to its hearty damnation!'
He drank the spirits and impatiently bade us go;
terminating his command with a sequel of horrid imprecations too bad to
repeat or remember.
'It's a pity he cannot kill himself with drink,'
observed Heathcliff, muttering an echo of curses back when the door was
shut. 'He's doing his very utmost; but his constitution defies him. Mr.
Kenneth says he would wager his mare that he'll outlive any man on this
side Gimmerton, and go to the grave a hoary sinner; unless some happy chance
out of the common course befall him.'
I went into the kitchen, and sat down to lull my
little lamb to sleep. Heathcliff, as I thought, walked through to the barn.
It turned out afterwards that he only got as far as the other side the
settle, when he flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the
fire and remained silent.
I was rocking Hareton on my knee, and humming a song
that began:
It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat,
The mither beneath the mools heard that --
when Miss Cathy, who had listened to the hubbub from
her room, put her head in, and whispered, -- 'Are you alone, Nelly?'
'Yes, Miss,' I replied.
She entered and approached the hearth. I, supposing
she was going to say something, looked up. The expression of her face seemed
disturbed and anxious. Her lips were half asunder, as if she meant to speak,
and she drew a breath; but it escaped in a sigh instead of a sentence.
I resumed my song; not having forgotten her recent behaviour.
'Where's Heathcliff?' she said, interrupting me.
'About his work in the stable,' was my answer.
He did not contradict me; perhaps he had fallen into
a doze. There followed another long pause, during which I perceived a drop
or two trickle from Catherine's cheek to the flags. Is she sorry for her
shameful conduct? -- I asked myself. That will be a novelty: but she may
come to the point -- as she will -- I sha'n't help her! No, she felt small
trouble regarding any subject, save her own concerns.
'Oh, dear!' she cried at last. 'I'm very unhappy!'
'A pity,' observed I. 'You're hard to please; so
many friends and so few cares, and can't make yourself content!'
'Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?' she pursued,
kneeling down by me, and lifting her winsome eyes to my face with that
sort of look which turns off bad temper, even when one has all the right
in the world to indulge it.
'Is it worth keeping?' I inquired, less sulkily.
'Yes, and it worries me, and I must let it out! I
want to know what I should do. To-day, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry
him, and I've given him an answer. Now, before I tell you whether it was
a consent or denial, you tell me which it ought to have been.'
'Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?' I replied.
'To be sure, considering the exhibition you performed in his presence this
afternoon, I might say it would be wise to refuse him: since he asked you
after that, he must either be hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool.'
'If you talk so, I won't tell you any more,' she
returned, peevishly rising to her feet. 'I accepted him, Nelly. Be quick,
and say whether I was wrong!'
'You accepted him! Then what good is it discussing
the matter? You have pledged your word, and cannot retract.'
'But say whether I should have done so -- do!' she
exclaimed in an irritated tone; chafing her hands together, and frowning.
'There are many things to be considered before that
question can be answered properly,' I said, sententiously. 'First and foremost,
do you love Mr. Edgar?'
'Who can help it? Of course I do,' she answered.
Then I put her through the following catechism: for
a girl of twenty-two it was not injudicious.
'Why do you love him, Miss Cathy?'
'Nonsense, I do -- that's sufficient.'
'By no means; you must say why?'
'Well, because he is handsome, and pleasant to be
with.'
'Bad!' was my commentary.
'And because he is young and cheerful.'
'Bad, still.'
'And because he loves me.'
'Indifferent, coming there.'
'And he will be rich, and I shall like to be the
greatest woman of the neighbourhood, and I shall be proud of having such
a husband.'
'Worst of all. And now, say how you love him?'
'As everybody loves -- You're silly, Nelly.'
'Not at all -- Answer.'
'I love the ground under his feet, and the air over
his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says. I love all
his looks, and all his actions, and him entirely and altogether. There
now!'
'And why?'
'Nay; you are making a jest of it: it is exceedingly
ill-natured! It's no jest to me!' said the young lady, scowling, and turning
her face to the fire.
'I'm very far from jesting, Miss Catherine,' I replied.
'You love Mr. Edgar because he is handsome, and young, and cheerful, and
rich, and loves you. The last, however, goes for nothing: you would love
him without that, probably; and with it you wouldn't, unless he possessed
the four former attractions.'
'No, to be sure not: I should only pity him -- hate
him, perhaps, if he were ugly, and a clown.'
'But there are several other handsome, rich young
men in the world: handsomer, possibly, and richer than he is. What should
hinder you from loving them?'
'If there be any, they are out of my way: I've seen
none like Edgar.'
'You may see some; and he won't always be handsome,
and young, and may not always be rich.'
'He is now; and I have only to do with the present.
I wish you would speak rationally.'
'Well, that settles it: if you have only to do with
the present, marry Mr. Linton.'
'I don't want your permission for that -- I shall
marry him: and yet you have not told me whether I'm right.'
'Perfectly right; if people be right to marry only
for the present. And now, let us hear what you are unhappy about. Your
brother will be pleased; the old lady and gentleman will not object, I
think; you will escape from a disorderly, comfortless home into a wealthy,
respectable one; and you love Edgar, and Edgar loves you. All seems smooth
and easy: where is the obstacle?'
'Here! and here!' replied Catherine,
striking one hand on her forehead, and the other on her breast: 'in whichever
place the soul lives. In my soul and in my heart, I'm convinced I'm wrong!'
'That's very strange! I cannot make it out.'
'It's my secret. But if you will not mock at me,
I'll explain it: I can't do it distinctly; but I'll give you a feeling
of how I feel.'
She seated herself by me again: her countenance grew
sadder and graver, and her clasped hands trembled.
'Nelly, do you never dream queer dreams?' she said,
suddenly, after some minutes' reflection.
'Yes, now and then,' I answered.
'And so do I. I've dreamt in my life dreams that
have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through
and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.
And this is one: I'm going to tell it -- but take care not to smile at
any part of it.'
'Oh! don't, Miss Catherine!' I cried. 'We're dismal
enough without conjuring up ghosts and visions to perplex us. Come, come,
be merry and like yourself! Look at little Hareton! he's dreaming
nothing dreary. How sweetly he smiles in his sleep!'
'Yes; and how sweetly his father curses in his solitude!
You remember him, I daresay, when he was just such another as that chubby
thing: nearly as young and innocent. However, Nelly, I shall oblige you
to listen: it's not long; and I've no power to be merry to-night.'
'I won't hear it, I won't hear it!' I repeated, hastily.
I was superstitious about dreams then, and am still;
and Catherine had an unusual gloom in her aspect, that made me dread something
from which I might shape a prophecy, and foresee a fearful catastrophe.
She was vexed, but she did not proceed. Apparently taking up another subject,
she recommenced in a short time.
'If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely
miserable.'
'Because you are not fit to go there,' I answered.
'All sinners would be miserable in heaven.'
'But it is not for that. I dreamt once that I was
there.'
'I tell you I won't hearken to your dreams, Miss
Catherine! I'll go to bed,' I interrupted again.
She laughed, and held me down; for I made a motion
to leave my chair.
'This is nothing,' cried she: 'I was only going to
say that heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping
to come back to earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me
out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where
I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret, as well as the
other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in
heaven; and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low,
I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff
now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's
handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls
are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as
a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.'
Ere this speech ended I became sensible of Heathcliff's
presence. Having noticed a slight movement, I turned my head, and saw him
rise from the bench, and steal out noiselessly. He had listened till he
heard Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and then he stayed
to hear no further. My companion, sitting on the ground, was prevented
by the back of the settle from remarking his presence or departure; but
I started, and bade her hush!
'Why?' she asked, gazing nervously round.
'Joseph is here,' I answered, catching opportunely
the roll of his cartwheels up the road; 'and Heathcliff will come in with
him. I'm not sure whether he were not at the door this moment.'
'Oh, he couldn't overhear me at the door!' said she.
'Give me Hareton, while you get the supper, and when it is ready ask me
to sup with you. I want to cheat my uncomfortable conscience, and be convinced
that Heathcliff has no notion of these things. He has not, has he? He does
not know what being in love is!'
'I see no reason that he should not know, as well
as you,' I returned; 'and if you are his choice, he'll be the most
unfortunate creature that ever was born! As soon as you become Mrs. Linton,
he loses friend, and love, and all! Have you considered how you'll bear
the separation, and how he'll bear to be quite deserted in the world? Because,
Miss Catherine ----'
'He quite deserted! we separated!' she exclaimed,
with an accent of indignation. 'Who is to separate us, pray? They'll meet
the fate of Milo! Not as long as I live, Ellen: for no mortal creature.
Every Linton on the face of the earth might melt into nothing before I
could consent to forsake Heathcliff. Oh, that's not what I intend -- that's
not what I mean! I shouldn't be Mrs. Linton were such a price demanded!
He'll be as much to me as he has been all his lifetime. Edgar must shake
off his antipathy, and tolerate him, at least. He will, when he learns
my true feelings towards him. Nelly, I see now you think me a selfish wretch;
but did it never strike you that if Heathcliff and I married, we should
be beggars? whereas, if I marry Linton I can aid Heathcliff to rise, and
place him out of my brother's power.'
'With your husband's money, Miss Catherine?' I asked.
'You'll find him not so pliable as you calculate upon: and, though I'm
hardly a judge, I think that's the worst motive you've given yet for being
the wife of young Linton.'
'It is not,' retorted she; 'it is the best! The others
were the satisfaction of my whims: and for Edgar's sake, too, to satisfy
him. This is for the sake of one who comprehends in his person my feelings
to Edgar and myself. I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody
have a notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you.
What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My
great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched
and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself.
If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue
to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe
would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. -- My
love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it,
I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles
the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a
pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own
being. So don't talk of our separation again: it is impracticable; and'
--
She paused, and hid her face in the folds of my gown;
but I jerked it forcibly away. I was out of patience with her folly!
'If I can make any sense of your nonsense, Miss,'
I said, 'it only goes to convince me that you are ignorant of the duties
you undertake in marrying; or else that you are a wicked, unprincipled
girl. But trouble me with no more secrets: I'll not promise to keep them.'
'You'll keep that?' she asked, eagerly.
'No, I'll not promise,' I repeated.
She was about to insist, when the entrance of Joseph
finished our conversation; and Catherine removed her seat to a corner,
and nursed Hareton, while I made the supper. After it was cooked, my fellow-servant
and I began to quarrel who should carry some to Mr. Hindley; and we didn't
settle it till all was nearly cold. Then we came to the agreement that
we would let him ask, if he wanted any; for we feared particularly to go
into his presence when he had been some time alone.
'And how isn't that nowt comed in fro' th' field,
be this time? What is he about? girt idle seeght!' demanded the old man,
looking round for Heathcliff.
'I'll call him,' I replied. 'He's in the barn, I've
no doubt.'
I went and called, but got no answer. On returning,
I whispered to Catherine that he had heard a good part of what she said,
I was sure; and told how I saw him quit the kitchen just as she complained
of her brother's conduct regarding him. She jumped up in a fine fright,
flung Hareton on to the settle, and ran to seek for her friend herself;
not taking leisure to consider why she was so flurried, or how her talk
would have affected him. She was absent such a while that Joseph proposed
we should wait no longer. He cunningly conjectured they were staying away
in order to avoid hearing his protracted blessing. They were 'ill eneugh
for ony fahl manners,' he affirmed. And on their behalf he added that night
a special prayer to the usual quarter-of-an-hour's supplication before
meat, and would have tacked another to the end of the grace, had not his
young mistress broken in upon him with a hurried command that he must run
down the road, and, wherever Heathcliff had rambled, find and make him
re-enter directly!
'I want to speak to him, and I must, before
I go upstairs,' she said. 'And the gate is open: he is somewhere out of
hearing; for he would not reply, though I shouted at the top of the fold
as loud as I could.'
Joseph objected at first; she was too much in earnest,
however, to suffer contradiction; and at last he placed his hat on his
head, and walked grumbling forth. Meantime, Catherine paced up and down
the floor, exclaiming --
'I wonder where he is -- I wonder where he indigenaecanindigenae
be! What did I say, Nelly? I've forgotten. Was he vexed at my bad humour
this afternoon? Dear! tell me what I've said to grieve him? I do wish he'd
come. I do wish he would!'
'What a noise for nothing!' I cried, though rather
uneasy myself. 'What a trifle scares you! It's surely no great cause of
alarm that Heathcliff should take a moonlight saunter on the moors, or
even lie too sulky to speak to us in the hay-loft. I'll engage he's lurking
there. See if I don't ferret him out!'
I departed to renew my search; its result was disappointment,
and Joseph's quest ended in the same.
'Yon lad gets war und war!' observed he on re-entering.
'He's left th' gate at t' full swing, and Miss's pony has trodden dahn
two rigs o' corn, and plottered through, raight o'er into t' meadow! Hahsomdiver,
t' maister 'ull play t' devil to-morn, and he'll do weel. He's patience
itsseln wi' sich careless, offald craters -- patience itsseln he is! Bud
he'll not be soa allus -- yah's see, all on ye! Yah mun'n't drive him out
of his heead for nowt!'
'Have you found Heathcliff, you ass?' interrupted
Catherine. 'Have you been looking for him, as I ordered?'
'I sud more likker look for th' horse,' he replied.
'It 'ud be to more sense. Bud I can look for norther horse nur man of a
neeght loike this -- as black as t' chimbley! und Heathcliff's noan t'
chap to coom at maw whistle -- happen he'll be less hard o' hearing
wi' ye!'
It was a very dark evening for summer: the
clouds appeared inclined to thunder, and I said we had better all sit down;
the approaching rain would be certain to bring him home without further
trouble. However, Catherine would hot be persuaded into tranquillity. She
kept wandering to and fro, from the gate to the door, in a state of agitation
which permitted no repose; and at length took up a permanent situation
on one side of the wall, near the road: where, heedless of my expostulations
and the growling thunder, and the great drops that began to plash around
her, she remained, calling at intervals, and then listening, and then crying
outright. She beat Hareton, or any child, at a good passionate fit of crying.
About midnight, while we still sat up, the storm
came rattling over the Heights in full fury. There was a violent wind,
as well as thunder, and either one or the other split a tree off at the
corner of the building: a huge bough fell across the roof, and knocked
down a portion of the east chimney-stack, sending a clatter of stones and
soot into the kitchen-fire. We thought a bolt had fallen in the middle
of us; and Joseph swung on to his knees, beseeching the Lord to remember
the patriarchs Noah and Lot, and, as in former times, spare the righteous,
though he smote the ungodly. I felt some sentiment that it must be a judgment
on us also. The Jonah, in my mind, was Mr. Earnshaw; and I shook the handle
of his den that I might ascertain if he were yet living. He replied audibly
enough, in a fashion which made my companion vociferate, more clamorously
than before, that a wide distinction might be drawn between saints like
himself and sinners like his master. But the uproar passed away in twenty
minutes, leaving us all unharmed; excepting Cathy, who got thoroughly drenched
for her obstinacy in refusing to take shelter, and standing bonnetless
and shawl-less to catch as much water as she could with her hair and clothes.
She came in and lay down on the settle, all soaked as she was, turning
her face to the back, and putting her hands before it.
'Well, Miss!' I exclaimed, touching her shoulder;
'you are not bent on getting your death, are you? Do you know what o'clock
it is? Half-past twelve. Come, come to bed! there's no use waiting any
longer on that foolish boy: he'll be gone to Gimmerton, and he'll stay
there now. He guesses we shouldn't wait for him till this late hour: at
least, he guesses that only Mr. Hindley would be up; and he'd rather avoid
having the door opened by the master.'
'Nay, nay, he's noan at Gimmerton,' said Joseph.
'I's niver wonder but he's at t' bothom of a bog-hoile. This visitation
worn't for nowt, and I wod hev' ye to look out, Miss - yah muh be t' next.
Thank Hivin for all! All warks togither for gooid to them as is chozzen,
and piked out fro' th' rubbidge! Yah knaw whet t' Scripture ses.' And he
began quoting several texts, referring us to chapters and verses where
we might find them.
I, having vainly begged the wilful girl to rise and
remove her wet things, left him preaching and her shivering, and betook
myself to bed with little Hareton, who slept as fast as if everyone had
been sleeping round him. I heard Joseph read on a while afterwards; then
I distinguished his slow step on the ladder, and then I dropped asleep.
Coming down somewhat later than usual, I saw, by
the sunbeams piercing the chinks of the shutters, Miss Catherine still
seated near the fireplace. The house-door was ajar, too; light entered
from its unclosed windows; Hindley had come out, and stood on the kitchen
hearth, haggard and drowsy.
'What ails you, Cathy?' he was saying when I entered:
'you look as dismal as a drowned whelp. Why are you so damp and pale, child?'
'I've been wet,' she answered reluctantly, 'and I'm
cold, that's all.'
'Oh, she is naughty!' I cried, perceiving the master
to be tolerably sober. 'She got steeped in the shower of yesterday evening,
and there she has sat the night through, and I couldn't prevail on her
to stir.'
Mr. Earnshaw stared at us in surprise. 'The night
through,' he repeated. 'What kept her up? not fear of the thunder, surely?
That was over hours since.'
Neither of us wished to mention Heathcliff's absence,
as long as we could conceal it; so I replied, I didn't know how she took
it into her head to sit up; and she said nothing. The morning was fresh
and cool; I threw back the lattice, and presently the room filled with
sweet scents from the garden; but Catherine called peevishly to me, 'Ellen,
shut the window. I'm starving!' And her teeth chattered as she shrank closer
to the almost extinguished embers.
'She's ill,' said Hindley, taking her wrist; 'I suppose
that's the reason she would not go to bed. Damn it! I don't want to be
troubled with more sickness here. What took you into the rain?'
Running after t' lads, as usuald!' croaked Joseph,
catching an opportunity from our hesitation to thrust in his evil tongue.
'If I war yah, maister, I'd just slam t' boards i' their faces all on 'em,
gentle and simple! Never a day ut yah're off, but yon cat o' Linton comes
sneaking hither; and Miss Nelly, shoo's a fine lass! shoo sits watching
for ye i' t' kitchen; and as yah're in at one door, he's out at t'other;
and, then, wer grand lady goes a-courting of her side! It's bonny behaviour,
lurking amang t' fields, after twelve o' t' night, wi' that fahl, flaysome
divil of a gipsy, Heathcliff! They think I'm blind; but I'm noan:
nowt ut t' soart! -- I seed young Linton boath coming and going, and I
seed yah' (directing his discourse to me), 'yah gooid fur nowt,
slattenly witch! nip up and bolt into th' house, t' minute yah heard t'
maister's horse-fit clatter up t' road.'
'Silence, eavesdropper!' cried Catherine; 'none of
your insolence before me! Edgar Linton came yesterday by chance, Hindley;
and it was I who told him to be off: because I knew you would not
like to have met him as you were.'
'You lie, Cathy, no doubt,' answered her brother,
'and you are a confounded simpleton! But never mind Linton at present:
tell me, were you not with Heathcliff last night? Speak the truth, now.
You need not he afraid of harming him: though I hate him as much as ever,
he did me a good turn a short time since that will make my conscience tender
of breaking his neck. To prevent it, I shall send him about his business
this very morning; and after he's gone, I'd advise you all to look sharp:
I shall only have the more humour for you.'
'I never saw Heathcliff last night,' answered Catherine,
beginning to sob bitterly: 'and if you do turn him out of doors, I'll go
with him. But, perhaps, you'll never have an opportunity: perhaps, he's
gone.' Here she burst into uncontrollable grief, and the remainder of her
words were inarticulate.
Hindley lavished on her a torrent of scornful abuse,
and bade her get to her room immediately, or she shouldn't cry for nothing!
I obliged her to obey; and I shall never forget what a scene she acted
when we reached her chamber: it terrified me. I thought she was going mad,
and I begged Joseph to run for the doctor. It proved the commencement of
delirium: Mr. Kenneth, as soon as he saw her, pronounced her dangerously
ill; she had a fever. He bled her, and he told me to let her live on whey
and water-gruel, and take care she did not throw herself downstairs or
out of the window; and then he left: for he had enough to do in the parish,
where two or three miles was the ordinary distance between cottage and
cottage.
Though I cannot say I made a gentle nurse, and Joseph
and the master were no better, and though our patient was as wearisome
and headstrong as a patient could be, she weathered it through. Old Mrs.
Linton paid us several visits, to be sure, and set things to rights, and
scolded and ordered us all; and when Catherine was convalescent, she insisted
on conveying her to Thrushcross Grange: for which deliverance we were very
grateful. But the poor dame had reason to repent of her kindness: she and
her husband both took the fever, and died within a few days of each other.
Our young lady returned to us saucier and more passionate,
and haughtier than ever. Heathcliff had never been heard of since the evening
of the thunder-storm; and, one day, I had the misfortune, when she had
provoked me exceedingly, to lay the blame of his disappearance on her:
where indeed it belonged, as she well knew. From that period, for several
months, she ceased to hold any communication with me, save in the relation
of a mere servant. Joseph fell under a ban also: he would speak
his mind, and lecture her all the same as if she were a little girl; and
she esteemed herself a woman, and our mistress, and thought that her recent
illness gave her a claim to be treated with consideration. Then the doctor
had said that she would not bear crossing much; she ought to have her own
way; and it was nothing less than murder in her eyes for any one to presume
to stand up and contradict her. From Mr. Earnshaw and his companions she
kept aloof; and tutored by Kenneth, and serious threats of a fit that often
attended her rages, her brother allowed her whatever she pleased to demand,
and generally avoided aggravating her fiery temper. He was rather too
indulgent in humouring her caprices; not from affection, but from pride:
he wished earnestly to see her bring honour to the family by an alliance
with the Lintons, and as long as she let him alone she might trample on
us like slaves, for aught he cared! Edgar Linton, as multitudes have been
before and will be after him, was infatuated: and believed himself the
happiest man alive on the day he led her to Gimmerton Chapel, three years
subsequent to his father's death.
Much against my inclination, I was persuaded to leave
Wuthering Heights and accompany her here, Little Hareton was nearly five
years old, and I had just begun to teach him his letters. We made a sad
parting; but Catherine's tears were more powerful than ours. When I refused
to go, and when she found her entreaties did not move me, she went lamenting
to her husband and brother. The former offered me munificent wages; the
latter ordered me to pack up: he wanted no women in the house, he said,
now that there was no mistress; and as to Hareton, the curate should take
him in hand, by-and-by. And so I had but one choice left: to do as I was
ordered. I told the master he got rid of all decent people only to run
to ruin a little faster; I kissed Hareton, said good-by; and since then
he has been a stranger: and it's very queer to think it, but I've no doubt
he has completely forgotten all about Ellen Dean, and that he was ever
more than all the world to her and she to him!
At this point of the housekeeper's story she chanced
to glance towards the time-piece over the chimney; and was in amazement
on seeing the minute-hand measure half-past one. She would not hear of
staying a second longer: in truth, I felt rather disposed to defer the
sequel of her narrative myself. And now that she is vanished to her rest,
and I have meditated for another hour or two, I shall summon courage to
go also, in spite of aching laziness of head and limbs.
CHAPTER X
A charming introduction to a hermit's life! Four
weeks' torture, tossing, and sickness! Oh, these bleak winds and bitter
northern skies, and impassable roads, and dilatory country surgeons! And
oh, this dearth of the human physiognomy! and, worse than all, the terrible
intimation of Kenneth that I need not expect to be out of doors till spring!
Mr. Heathcliff has just honoured me with a call.
About seven days ago he sent me a brace of grouse -- the last of the season.
Scoundrel! He is not altogether guiltless in this illness of mine; and
that I had a great mind to tell him. But, alas! how could I offend a man
who was charitable enough to sit at my bedside a good hour, and talk on
some other subject than pills and draughts, blisters and leeches? This
is quite an easy interval. I am too weak to read; yet I feel as if I could
enjoy something interesting. Why not have up Mrs. Dean to finish her tale?
I can recollect its chief incidents, as far as she had gone. Yes: I remember
her hero had run off, and never been heard of for three years; and the
heroine was married. I'll ring: she'll be delighted to find me capable
of talking cheerfully. Mrs. Dean came.
'It wants twenty minutes, sir, to taking the medicine,'
she commenced.
'Away, away with it!' I replied; 'I desire to have
----'
'The doctor says you must drop the powders.'
'With all my heart! Don't interrupt me. Come and
take your seat here. Keep your fingers from that bitter phalanx of vials.
Draw your knitting out of your pocket -- that will do -- now continue the
history of Mr. Heathcliff, from where you left off, to the present day.
Did he finish his education on the Continent, and come back a gentleman?
or did he get a sizar's place at college, or escape to America, and earn
honours by drawing blood from his foster-country? or make a fortune more
promptly on the English highways?'
'He may have done a little in all these vocations,
Mr. Lockwood; but I couldn't give my word for any. I stated before that
I didn't know how he gained his money; neither am I aware of the means
he took to raise his mind from the savage ignorance into which it was sunk:
but, with your leave, I'll proceed in my own fashion, if you think it will
amuse and not weary you. Are you feeling better this morning?'
'Much.'
'That's good news.'
I got Miss Catherine and myself to Thrushcross Grange;
and, to my agreeable disappointment, she behaved infinitely better than
I dared to expect. She seemed almost over-fond of Mr. Linton; and even
to his sister she showed plenty of affection. They were both very attentive
to her comfort, certainly. It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles,
but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. There were no mutual concessions:
one stood erect, and the others yielded: and who can be ill-natured
and bad-tempered when they encounter neither opposition nor indifference?
I observed that Mr. Edgar had a deep-rooted fear of ruffling her humour.
He concealed it from her; but if ever he heard me answer sharply, or saw
any other servant grow cloudy at some imperious order of hers, he would
show his trouble by a frown of displeasure that never darkened on his own
account. He many a time spoke sternly to me about my pertness; and averred
that the stab of a knife could not inflict a worse pang than he suffered
at seeing his lady vexed. Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be
less touchy; and, for the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless
as sand, because no fire came near to explode it. Catherine had seasons
of gloom and silence now and then: they were respected with sympathising
silence by her husband, who ascribed them to an alteration in her constitution,
produced by her perilous illness; as she was never subject to depression
of spirits before. The return of sunshine was welcomed by answering sunshine
from him. I believe I may assert that they were really in possession of
deep and growing happiness.
It ended. Well, we must be for ourselves in
the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the
domineering; and it ended when circumstances caused each to feel that the
one's interest was not the chief consideration in the other's thoughts.
On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a heavy
basket of apples which I had been gathering. It had got dusk, and the moon
looked over the high wall of the court, causing undefined shadows to lurk
in the corners of the numerous projecting portions of the building. I set
my burden on the house-steps by the kitchen-door, and lingered to rest,
and drew in a few more breaths of the soft, sweet air; my eyes were on
the moon, and my back to the entrance, when I heard a voice behind me say,
-- 'Nelly, is that you?'
It was a deep voice, and foreign in tone; yet there
was something in the manner of pronouncing my name which made it sound
familiar. I turned about to discover who spoke, fearfully; for the doors
were shut, and I had seen nobody on approaching the steps. Something stirred
in the porch; and, moving nearer, I distinguished a tall man dressed in
dark clothes, with dark face and hair. He leant against the side, and held
his fingers on the latch as if intending to open for himself. 'Who can
it be?' I thought. 'Mr. Earnshaw? Oh, no! The voice has no resemblance
to his.'
'I have waited here an hour,' he resumed, while I
continued staring; 'and the whole of that time all round has been as still
as death. I dared not enter. You do not know me? Look, I'm not a stranger!'
A ray fell on his features; the cheeks were sallow,
and half covered with black whiskers; the brows lowering, the eyes deep-set
and singular. I remembered the eyes.
'What!' I cried, uncertain whether to regard him
as a worldly visitor, and I raised my hands in amazement. 'What! you come
back? Is it really you? Is it?'
'Yes, Heathcliff,' he replied, glancing from me up
to the windows, which reflected a score of glittering moons, but showed
no lights from within. 'Are they at home? where is she? Nelly, you are
not glad! you needn't be so disturbed. Is she here? Speak! I want to have
one word with her -- your mistress. Go, and say some person from Gimmerton
desires to see her.'
'How will she take it?' I exclaimed. 'What will she
do? The surprise bewilders me -- it will put her out of her head! And you
are
Heathcliff! But altered! Nay, there's no comprehending it. Have you been
for a soldier?'
'Go and carry my message,' he interrupted, impatiently.
'I'm in hell till you do!'
He lifted the latch, and I entered; but when I got
to the parlour where Mr. and Mrs. Linton were, I could not persuade myself
to proceed. At length I resolved on making an excuse to ask if they would
have the candles lighted, and I opened the door.
They sat together in a window whose lattice lay back
against the wall, and displayed, beyond the garden trees, and the wild
green park, the valley of Gimmerton, with a long line of mist winding nearly
to its top (for very soon after you pass the chapel, as you may have noticed,
the sough that runs from the marshes joins a beck which follows the bend
of the glen). Wuthering Heights rose above this silvery vapour; but our
old house was invisible; it rather dips down on the other side. Both the
room and its occupants, and the scene they gazed on, looked wondrously
peaceful. I shrank reluctantly from performing my errand; and was actually
going away leaving it unsaid, after having put my question about the candles,
when a sense of my folly compelled me to return, and mutter, 'A person
from Gimmerton wishes to see you ma'am.'
'What does he want?' asked Mrs. Linton.
'I did not question him,' I answered.
'Well, close the curtains, Nelly,' she said; 'and
bring up tea. I'll be back again directly.'
She quitted the apartment; Mr. Edgar inquired, carelessly,
who it was.
'Some one mistress does not expect,' I replied. 'That
Heathcliff -- you recollect him, sir -- who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw's.'
'What! the gipsy -- the ploughboy?' he cried. 'Why
did you not say so to Catherine?'
'Hush! you must not call him by those names, master,'
I said. 'She'd be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken
when he ran off. I guess his return will make a jubilee to her.'
Mr. Linton walked to a window on the other side of
the room that overlooked the court. He unfastened it, and leant out. I
suppose they were below, for he exclaimed quickly: 'Don't stand there,
love! Bring the person in, if it be anyone particular.' Ere long, I heard
the click of the latch, and Catherine flew up-stairs, breathless and wild;
too excited to show gladness: indeed, by her face, you would rather have
surmised an awful calamity.
'Oh, Edgar, Edgar!' she panted, flinging her arms
round his neck. 'Oh, Edgar darling! Heathcliff's come back -- he is!' And
she tightened her embrace to a squeeze.
'Well, well,' cried her husband, crossly, 'don't
strangle me for that! He never struck me as such a marvellous treasure.
There is no need to be frantic!'
'I know you didn't like him,' she answered, repressing
a little the intensity of her delight. 'Yet, for my sake, you must be friends
now. Shall I tell him to come up?'
'Here,' he said, 'into the parlour?'
'Where else?' she asked.
He looked vexed, and suggested the kitchen as a more
suitable place for him. Mrs. Linton eyed him with a droll expression --
half angry, half laughing at his fastidiousness.
'No,' she added, after a while; 'I cannot sit in
the kitchen. Set two tables here, Ellen: one for your master and Miss Isabella,
being gentry; the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders.
Will that please you, dear? Or must I have a fire lighted elsewhere? If
so, give directions. I'll run down and secure my guest. I'm afraid the
joy is too great to be real!'
She was about to dart off again; but Edgar arrested
her.
'You bid him step up,' he said, addressing
me; 'and, Catherine, try to be glad, without being absurd. The whole household
need not witness the sight of your welcoming a runaway servant as a brother.'
I descended, and found Heathcliff waiting under the
porch, evidently anticipating an invitation to enter. He followed my guidance
without waste of words, and I ushered him into the presence of the master
and mistress, whose flushed cheeks betrayed signs of warm talking. But
the lady's glowed with another feeling when her friend appeared at the
door: she sprang forward, took both his hands, and led him to Linton; and
then she seized Linton's reluctant fingers and crushed them into his. Now,
fully revealed by the fire and candlelight, I was amazed, more than ever,
to behold the transformation of Heathcliff. He had grown a tall, athletic,
well-formed man; beside whom my master seemed quite slender and youth-like.
His upright carriage suggested the idea of his having been in the army.
His countenance was much older in expression and decision of feature than
Mr. Linton's; it looked intelligent, and retained no marks of former degradation.
A half- civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full
of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite
divested of roughness, though stern for grace. My master's surprise equalled
or exceeded mine: he remained for a minute at a loss how to address the
ploughboy, as he had called him. Heathcliff dropped his slight hand, and
stood looking at him coolly till he chose to speak.
'Sit down, sir,' he said, at length. 'Mrs. Linton,
recalling old times, would have me give you a cordial reception; and, of
course, I am gratified when anything occurs to please her.'
'And I also,' answered Heathcliff, 'especially if
it be anything in which I have a part. I shall stay an hour or two willingly.'
He took a seat opposite Catherine, who kept her gaze
fixed on him as if she feared he would vanish were she to remove it. He
did not raise his to her often: a quick glance now and then sufficed; but
it flashed back, each time more confidently, the undisguised delight he
drank from hers. They were too much absorbed in their mutual joy to suffer
embarrassment. Not so Mr. Edgar: he grew pale with pure annoyance: a feeling
that reached its climax when his lady rose, and stepping across the rug,
seized Heathcliff's hands again, and laughed like one beside herself.
'I shall think it a dream to-morrow!' she cried.
'I shall not be able to believe that I have seen, and touched, and spoken
to you once more. And yet, cruel Heathcliff! you don't deserve this welcome.
To be absent and silent for three years, and never to think of me!'
'A little more than you have thought of me,' he murmured.
'I heard of your marriage, Cathy, not long since; and, while waiting in
the yard below, I meditated this plan -- just to have one glimpse of your
face, a stare of surprise, perhaps, and pretended pleasure; afterwards
settle my score with Hindley; and then prevent the law by doing execution
on myself. Your welcome has put these ideas out of my mind; but beware
of meeting me with another aspect next time! Nay, you'll not drive me off
again. You were really sorry for me, were you? Well, there was cause. I've
fought through a bitter life since I last heard your voice; and you must
forgive me, for I struggled only for you!'
'Catherine, unless we are to have cold tea, please
to come to the table,' interrupted Linton, striving to preserve his ordinary
tone, and a due measure of politeness. 'Mr. Heathcliff will have a long
walk, wherever he may lodge to-night; and I'm thirsty.'
She took her post before the urn; and Miss Isabella
came, summoned by the bell; then, having handed their chairs forward, I
left the room. The meal hardly endured ten minutes. Catherine's cup was
never filled: she could neither eat nor drink. Edgar had made a slop in
his saucer, and scarcely swallowed a mouthful. Their guest did not protract
his stay that evening above an hour longer. I asked, as he departed, if
he went to Gimmerton?
'No, to Wuthering Heights,' he answered: 'Mr. Earnshaw
invited me, when I called this morning.'
Mr. Earnshaw invited him! and he called
on Mr. Earnshaw! I pondered this sentence painfully, after he was gone.
Is he turning out a bit of a hypocrite, and coming into the country to
work mischief under a cloak? I mused: I had a presentiment in the bottom
of my heart that he had better have remained away.
About the middle of the night, I was wakened from
my first nap by Mrs. Linton gliding into my chamber, taking a seat on my
bedside, and pulling me by the hair to rouse me.
'I cannot rest, Ellen,' she said, by way of apology.
'And I want some living creature to keep me company in my happiness! Edgar
is sulky, because I'm glad of a thing that does not interest him: he refuses
to open his mouth, except to utter pettish, silly speeches; and he affirmed
I was cruel and selfish for wishing to talk when he was so sick and sleepy.
He always contrives to be sick at the least cross! I gave a few sentences
of commendation to Heathcliff, and he, either for a headache or a pang
of envy, began to cry: so I got up and left him.'
'What use is it praising Heathcliff to him?' I answered.
'As lads they had an aversion to each other, and Heathcliff would hate
just as much to hear him praised: it's human nature. Let Mr. Linton alone
about him, unless you would like an open quarrel between them.'
'But does it not show great weakness?' pursued she.
'I'm not envious: I never feel hurt at the brightness of Isabella's yellow
hair and the whiteness of her skin, at her dainty elegance, and the fondness
all the family exhibit for her. Even you, Nelly, if we have a dispute sometimes,
you back Isabella at once; and I yield like a foolish mother: I call her
a darling, and flatter her into a good temper. It pleases her brother to
see us cordial, and that pleases me. But they are very much alike: they
are spoiled children, and fancy the world was made for their accommodation;
and though I humour both, I think a smart chastisement might improve them
all the same.'
'You're mistaken, Mrs. Linton,' said I. 'They humour
you: I know what there would be to do if they did not. You can well afford
to indulge their passing whims as long as their business is to anticipate
all your desires. You may, however, fall out, at last, over something of
equal consequence to both sides; and then those you term weak are very
capable of being as obstinate as you.'
'And then we shall fight to the death, sha'n't we,
Nelly?' she returned, laughing. 'No! I tell you, I have such faith in Linton's
love, that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn't wish to retaliate.'
I advised her to value him the more for his affection.
'I do,' she answered, 'but he needn't resort to whining
for trifles. It is childish and, instead of melting into tears because
I said that Heathcliff was now worthy of anyone's regard, and it would
honour the first gentleman in the country to be his friend, he ought to
have said it for me, and been delighted from sympathy. He must get accustomed
to him, and he may as well like him: considering how Heathcliff has reason
to object to him, I'm sure he behaved excellently!'
'What do you think of his going to Wuthering Heights?'
I inquired. 'He is reformed in every respect, apparently: quite a Christian:
offering the right hand of fellowship to his enemies all around!'
'He explained it,' she replied. 'I wonder as much
as you. He said he called to gather information concerning me from you,
supposing you resided there still; and Joseph told Hindley, who came out
and fell to questioning him of what he had been doing, and how he had been
living; and finally, desired him to walk in. There were some persons sitting
at cards; Heathcliff joined them; my brother lost some money to him, and,
finding him plentifully supplied, he requested that he would come again
in the evening: to which he consented. Hindley is too reckless to select
his acquaintance prudently: he doesn't trouble himself to reflect on the
causes he might have for mistrusting one whom he has basely injured. But
Heathcliff affirms his principal reason for resuming a connection with
his ancient persecutor is a wish to instal himself in quarters at walking
distance from the Grange, and an attachment to the house where we lived
together; and likewise a hope that I shall have more opportunities of seeing
him there than I could have if he settled in Gimmerton. He means to offer
liberal payment for permission to lodge at the Heights; and doubtless my
brother's covetousness will prompt him to accept the terms: he was always
greedy; though what he grasps with one hand he flings away with the other.'
'It's a nice place for a young man to fix his dwelling
in!' said I. 'Have you no fear of the consequences, Mrs. Linton?'
'None for my friend,' she replied: 'his strong head
will keep him from danger; a little for Hindley: but he can't be made morally
worse than he is; and I stand between him and bodily harm. The event of
this evening has reconciled me to God and humanity! I had risen in angry
rebellion against Providence. Oh, I've endured very, very bitter misery,
Nelly! If that creature knew how bitter, he'd be ashamed to cloud its removal
with idle petulance. It was kindness for him which induced me to bear it
alone: had I expressed the agony I frequently felt, he would have been
taught to long for its alleviation as ardently as I. However, it's over,
and I'll take no revenge on his folly; I can afford to suffer anything
hereafter! Should the meanest thing alive slap me on the cheek, I'd not
only turn the other, but I'd ask pardon for provoking it; and, as a proof,
I'll go make my peace with Edgar instantly. Good- night! I'm an angel!'
In this self-complacent conviction she departed;
and the success of her fulfilled resolution was obvious on the morrow:
Mr. Linton had not only abjured his peevishness (though his spirits seemed
still subdued by Catherine's exuberance of vivacity), but he ventured no
objection to her taking Isabella with her to Wuthering Heights in the afternoon;
and she rewarded him with such a summer of sweetness and affection in return
as made the house a paradise for several days; both master and servants
profiting from the perpetual sunshine.
Heathcliff -- Mr. Heathcliff I should say in future
-- used the liberty of visiting at Thrushcross Grange cautiously, at first:
he seemed estimating how far its owner would bear his intrusion. Catherine,
also, deemed it judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving
him; and he gradually established his right to be expected. He retained
a great deal of the reserve for which his boyhood was remarkable; and that
served to repress all startling demonstrations of feeling. My master's
uneasiness experienced a lull, and further circumstances diverted it into
another channel for a space.
His new source of trouble sprang from the not anticipated
misfortune of Isabella Linton evincing a sudden and irresistible attraction
towards the tolerated guest. She was at that time a charming young lady
of eighteen; infantile in manners, though possessed of keen wit, keen feelings,
and a keen temper, too, if irritated. Her brother, who loved her tenderly,
was appalled at this fantastic preference. Leaving aside the degradation
of an alliance with a nameless man, and the possible fact that his property,
in default of heirs male, might pass into such a one's power, he had sense
to comprehend Heathcliff's disposition: to know that, though his exterior
was altered, his mind was unchangeable and unchanged. And he dreaded that
mind: it revolted him: he shrank forebodingly from the idea of committing
Isabella to its keeping. He would have recoiled still more had he been
aware that her attachment rose unsolicited, and was bestowed where it awakened
no reciprocation of sentiment; for the minute he discovered its existence
he laid the blame on Heathcliff's deliberate designing.
We had all remarked, during some time, that Miss
Linton fretted and pined over something. She grew cross and wearisome;
snapping at and teasing Catherine continually, at the imminent risk of
exhausting her limited patience. We excused her, to a certain extent, on
the plea of ill-health: she was dwindling and fading before our eyes. But
one day, when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast,
complaining that the servants did not do what she told them; that the mistress
would allow her to be nothing in the house, and Edgar neglected her; that
she had caught a cold with the doors being left open, and we let the parlour
fire go out on purpose to vex her, with a hundred yet more frivolous accusations,
Mrs. Linton peremptorily insisted that she should get to bed; and, having
scolded her heartily, threatened to send for the doctor. Mention of Kenneth
caused her to exclaim, instantly, that her health was perfect, and it was
only Catherine's harshness which made her unhappy.
'How can you say I am harsh, you naughty fondling?'
cried the mistress, amazed at the unreasonable assertion. 'You are surely
losing your reason. When have I been hash, tell me?'
'Yesterday,' sobbed Isabella, 'and now!'
'Yesterday!' said her sister-in-law. 'On what occasion?'
'In our walk along the moor: you told me to ramble
where I pleased, while you sauntered on with Mr. Heathcliff?'
'And that's your notion of harshness?' said Catherine,
laughing. 'It was no hint that your company was superfluous? We didn't
care whether you kept with us or not; I merely thought Heathcliff's talk
would have nothing entertaining for your ears.'
'Oh, no,' wept the young lady; 'you wished me away,
because you knew I liked to be there!'
'Is she sane?' asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me.
'I'll repeat our conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out
any charm it could have had for you.'
'I don't mind the conversation,' she answered: 'I
wanted to be with ----'
"Well?' said Catherine, perceiving her hesitate to
complete the sentence.
'With him: and I won't be always sent off!' she continued,
kindling up. 'You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to
be loved but yourself!'
'You are an impertinent little monkey!' exclaimed
Mrs. Linton, in surprise. 'But I'll not believe this idiotcy! It is impossible
that you can covet the admiration of Heathcliff -- that you consider him
an agreeable person! I hope I have misunderstood you, Isabella?'
'No, you have not,' said the infatuated girl. 'I
love him more than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would
let him!'
'I wouldn't be you for a kingdom, then!' Catherine
declared, emphatically: and she seemed to speak sincerely. 'Nelly, help
me to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: an unreclaimed
creature, without refinement, without cultivation; an arid wilderness of
furze and whinstone. I'd as soon put that little canary into the park on
a winter's day, as recommend you to bestow your heart on him! It is deplorable
ignorance of his character, child, and nothing else, which makes that dream
enter your head. Pray, don't imagine that he conceals depths of benevolence
and affection beneath a stern exterior! He's not a rough diamond -- a pearl-containing
oyster of a rustic: he's a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. I never say to
him, "Let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel
to harm them;" I say, "Let them alone, because I should hate them to be
wronged:" and he'd crush you like a sparrow's egg, Isabella, if he found
you a troublesome charge. I know he couldn't love a Linton; and yet he'd
be quite capable of marrying your fortune and expectations: avarice is
growing with him a besetting sin. There's my picture: and I'm his friend
-- so much so, that had he thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps,
have held my tongue, and let you fall into his trap.'
Miss Linton regarded her sister-in-law with indignation.
'For shame! for shame!' she repeated, angrily. 'You
are worse than twenty foes, you poisonous friend!'
'Ah! you won't believe me, then?' said Catherine.
'You think I speak from wicked selfishness?'
'I'm certain you do,' retorted Isabella; 'and I shudder
at you!'
'Good!' cried the other. 'Try for yourself, if that
be your spirit: I have done, and yield the argument to your saucy insolence.'
-
'And I must suffer for her egotism!' she sobbed,
as Mrs. Linton left the room. 'All, all is against me: she has blighted
my single consolation. But she uttered falsehoods, didn't she? Mr. Heathcliff
is not a fiend: he has an honourable soul, and a true one, or how could
he remember her?'
'Banish him from your thoughts, Miss,' I said. 'He's
a bird of bad omen: no mate for you. Mrs. Linton spoke strongly, and yet
I can't contradict her. She is better acquainted with his heart than I,
or any one besides; and she never would represent him as worse than he
is. Honest people don't hide their deeds. How has he been living? how has
he got rich? why is he staying at Wuthering Heights, the house of a man
whom he abhors? They say Mr. Earnshaw is worse and worse since he came.
They sit up all night together continually, and Hindley has been borrowing
money on his land, and does nothing but play and drink: I heard only a
week ago -- it was Joseph who told me -- I met him at Gimmerton: "Nelly,"
he said, "we's hae a crowner's 'quest enow, at ahr folks'. One on 'em 's
a'most getten his finger cut off wi' hauding t' other fro' stickin' hisseln
loike a cawlf. That's maister, yeah knaw, 'at 's soa up o' going tuh t'
grand 'sizes. He's noan feared o' t' bench o' judges, norther Paul, nur
Peter, nur John, nur Matthew, nor noan on 'em, not he! He fair likes --
he langs to set his brazened face agean 'em! And yon bonny lad Heathcliff,
yah mind, he's a rare 'un. He can girn a laugh as well 's onybody at a
raight divil's jest. Does he niver say nowt of his fine living amang us,
when he goes to t' Grange? This is t' way on 't:- up at sun-down: dice,
brandy, cloised shutters, und can'le-light till next day at noon: then,
t'fooil gangs banning und raving to his cham'er, makking dacent fowks dig
thur fingers i' thur lugs fur varry shame; un' the knave, why he can caint
his brass, un' ate, un' sleep, un' off to his neighbour's to gossip wi'
t' wife. I' course, he tells Dame Catherine how her fathur's goold runs
into his pocket, and her fathur's son gallops down t' broad road, while
he flees afore to oppen t' pikes!" Now, Miss Linton, Joseph is an old rascal,
but no liar; and, if his account of Heathcliff's conduct be true, you would
never think of desiring such a husband, would you?'
'You are leagued with the rest, Ellen!' she replied.
'I'll not listen to your slanders. What malevolence you must have to wish
to convince me that there is no happiness in the world!'
Whether she would have got over this fancy if left
to herself, or persevered in nursing it perpetually, I cannot say: she
had little time to reflect. The day after, there was a justice-meeting
at the next town; my master was obliged to attend; and Mr. Heathcliff,
aware of his absence, called rather earlier than usual. Catherine and Isabella
were sitting in the library, on hostile terms, but silent: the latter alarmed
at her recent indiscretion, and the disclosure she had made of her secret
feelings in a transient fit of passion; the former, on mature consideration,
really offended with her companion; and, if she laughed again at her pertness,
inclined to make it no laughing matter to her. She did laugh as she saw
Heathcliff pass the window. I was sweeping the hearth, and I noticed a
mischievous smile on her lips. Isabella, absorbed in her meditations, or
a book, remained till the door opened; and it was too late to attempt an
escape, which she would gladly have done had it been practicable.
'Come in, that's right!' exclaimed the mistress,
gaily, pulling a chair to the fire. 'Here are two people sadly in need
of a third to thaw the ice between them; and you are the very one we should
both of us choose. Heathcliff, I'm proud to show you, at last, somebody
that dotes on you more than myself. I expect you to feel flattered. Nay,
it's not Nelly; don't look at her! My poor little sister-in-law is breaking
her heart by mere contemplation of your physical and moral beauty. It lies
in your own power to be Edgar's brother! No, no, Isabella, you sha'n't
run off,' she continued, arresting, with feigned playfulness, the confounded
girl, who had risen indignantly. 'We were quarrelling like cats about you,
Heathcliff; and I was fairly beaten in protestations of devotion and admiration:
and, moreover, I was informed that if I would but have the manners to stand
aside, my rival, as she will have herself to be, would shoot a shaft into
your soul that would fix you for ever, and send my image into eternal oblivion!'
'Catherine!' said Isabella, calling up her dignity,
and disdaining to struggle from the tight grasp that held her, 'I'd thank
you to adhere to the truth and not slander me, even in joke! Mr. Heathcliff,
be kind enough to bid this friend of yours release me: she forgets that
you and I are not intimate acquaintances; and what amuses her is painful
to me beyond expression.'
As the guest answered nothing, but took his seat,
and looked thoroughly indifferent what sentiments she cherished concerning
him, she turned and whispered an earnest appeal for liberty to her tormentor.
'By no means!' cried Mrs. Linton in answer. 'I won't
be named a dog in the manger again. You shall stay: now then! Heathcliff,
why don't you evince satisfaction at my pleasant news? Isabella swears
that the love Edgar has for me is nothing to that she entertains for you.
I'm sure she made some speech of the kind; did she not, Ellen? And she
has fasted ever since the day before yesterday's walk, from sorrow and
rage that I despatched her out of your society under the idea of its being
unacceptable.'
'I think you belie her,' said Heathcliff, twisting
his chair to face them. 'She wishes to be out of my society now, at any
rate!'
And he stared hard at the object of discourse, as
one might do at a strange repulsive animal: a centipede from the Indies,
for instance, which curiosity leads one to examine in spite of the aversion
it raises. The poor thing couldn't bear that; she grew white and red in
rapid succession, and, while tears beaded her lashes, bent the strength
of her small fingers to loosen the firm clutch of Catherine; and perceiving
that as fast as she raised one finger off her arm another closed down,
and she could not remove the whole together, she began to make use of her
nails; and their sharpness presently ornamented the detainer's with crescents
of red.
'There's a tigress!' exclaimed Mrs. Linton, setting
her free, and shaking her hand with pain. 'Begone, for God's sake, and
hide your vixen face! How foolish to reveal those talons to him.
Can't you fancy the conclusions he'll draw? Look, Heathcliff! they are
instruments that will do execution -- you must beware of your eyes.'
'I'd wrench them off her fingers, if they ever menaced
me,' he answered, brutally, when the door had closed after her. 'But what
did you mean by teasing the creature in that manner, Cathy? You were not
speaking the truth, were you?'
'I assure you I was,' she returned. 'She has been
dying for your sake several weeks, and raving about you this morning, and
pouring forth a deluge of abuse, because I represented your failings in
a plain light, for the purpose of mitigating her adoration. But don't notice
it further: I wished to punish her sauciness, that's all. I like her too
well, my dear Heathcliff, to let you absolutely seize and devour her up.'
'And I like her too ill to attempt it,' said he,
'except in a very ghoulish fashion. You'd hear of odd things if I lived
alone with that mawkish, waxen face: the most ordinary would be painting
on its white the colours of the rainbow, and turning the blue eyes black,
every day or two: they detestably resemble Linton's.'
'Delectably!' observed Catherine. 'They are dove's
eyes -- angel's!'
'She's her brother's heir, is she not?' he asked,
after a brief silence.
'I should be sorry to think so,' returned his companion.
'Half a dozen nephews shall erase her title, please heaven! Abstract your
mind from the subject at present: you are too prone to covet your neighbour's
goods; remember this neighbour's goods are mine.'
'If they were mine, they would be none the
less that,' said Heathcliff; 'but though Isabella Linton may be silly,
she is scarcely mad; and, in short, we'll dismiss the matter, as you advise.'
From their tongues they did dismiss it; and Catherine,
probably, from her thoughts. The other, I felt certain, recalled it often
in the course of the evening. I saw him smile to himself -- grin rather
-- and lapse into ominous musing whenever Mrs. Linton had occasion to be
absent from the apartment.
I determined to watch his movements. My heart invariably
cleaved to the master's, in preference to Catherine's side: with reason
I imagined, for he was kind, and trustful, and honourable; and she -- she
could not be called opposite, yet she seemed to allow herself such
wide latitude, that I had little faith in her principles, and still less
sympathy for her feelings. I wanted something to happen which might have
the effect of freeing both Wuthering Heights and the Grange of Mr. Heathcliff
quietly; leaving us as we had been prior to his advent. His visits were
a continual nightmare to me; and, I suspected, to my master also. His abode
at the Heights was an oppression past explaining. I felt that God had forsaken
the stray sheep there to its own wicked wanderings, and an evil beast prowled
between it and the fold, waiting his time to spring and destroy.