"Send Ellen, then, to let papa know I'm safe!" exclaimed Catherine, weeping bitterly. "Or marry me now. Poor papa! Ellen, he'll think we're lost. What shall we do?"

'Send Ellen, then, to let papa know I'm safe!' exclaimed Catherine, weeping bitterly. 'Or let me be married now. Poor papa! Ellen, he'll think we're lost!'


"Not he! He'll think you are tired of waiting on him, and run off for a little amusement," answered Heathcliff. "You cannot deny that you entered my house of your own accord, in contempt of his injunctions to the contrary. And it is quite natural that you should desire amusement at your age; and that you would weary of nursing a sick man, and that man _only_ your father. Catherine, his happiest days were over when your days began. He cursed you, I dare say, for coming into the world (I did, at least); and it would just do if he cursed you as _he_ went out of it. I'd join him. I don't love you! How should I? Weep away.

'Not he! He'll think you are tired of waiting on him, and have run off for amusement,' answered Heathcliff. 'It is quite natural that you should weary of nursing a sick man. Catherine, his happiest days were over when your days began. He cursed you, I dare say, for coming into the world (I did, at least); and he should curse you as he goes out of it. I'd join him. I don't love you! How should I? Weep away.


As far as I can see, it will be your chief diversion hereafter; unless Linton make amends for other losses: and your provident parent appears to fancy he may. His letters of advice and consolation entertained me vastly. In his last he recommended my jewel to be careful of his; and kind to her when he got her. Careful and kind-that's paternal. But Linton requires his whole stock of care and kindness for himself. Linton can play the little tyrant well. He'll undertake to torture any number of cats, if their teeth be drawn and their claws pared. You'll be able to tell his uncle fine tales of his _kindness_, when you get home again, I assure you."

You'll be doing plenty of weeping hereafter; unless Linton improves as your father hopes. His letters of advice entertained me vastly. In his last he recommended my jewel to be kind and careful of his. But Linton requires his whole stock of care and kindness for himself: he can play the tyrant well. He'll undertake to torture any number of cats, if their teeth be drawn and their claws cut. You'll be able to tell his uncle fine tales of his kindness, when you get home, I assure you.'


"You're right there!" I said; "explain your son's character. Show his resemblance to yourself: and then, I hope, Miss Cathy will think twice before she takes the cockatrice!"
"I don't much mind speaking of his amiable qualities now," he answered; "because she must either accept him or remain a prisoner, and you along with her, till your master dies. I can detain you both, quite concealed, here. If you doubt, encourage her to retract her word, and you'll have an opportunity of judging!"

'You're right there!' I said; 'Show your son's resemblance to yourself, and Miss Cathy will think twice before she takes him!'
'It doesn't matter now,' he answered; 'because she must either accept him, or remain a prisoner, till your master dies. I can keep you both concealed here.'


"I'll not retract my word," said Catherine. "I'll marry him within this hour, if I may go to Thrushcross Grange afterwards. Mr. Heathcliff, you're a cruel man, but you're not a fiend; and you won't, from _mere_ malice, destroy irrevocably all my happiness. If papa thought I had left him on purpose, and if he died before I returned, could I bear to live? I've given over crying: but I'm going to kneel here, at your knee; and I'll not get up, and I'll not take my eyes from your face till you look back at me! No, don't turn away! _do look_! you'll see nothing to provoke you. I don't hate you. I'm not angry that you struck me.

'I'll marry him within the hour,' said Catherine, 'if I may go home afterwards. Mr. Heathcliff, you're a cruel man, but you're not a fiend. If papa thought I had left him on purpose, and if he died before I returned, could I bear to live? I'm going to kneel here, and I'll not get up till you look back at me! No, don't turn away! do look! I don't hate you. I'm not angry that you struck me.


Have you never loved _anybody_ in all your life, uncle? _never_? Ah! you must look once. I'm so wretched, you can't help being sorry and pitying me."
"Keep your eft's fingers off; and move, or I'll kick you!" cried Heathcliff, brutally repulsing her. "I'd rather be hugged by a snake. How the devil can you dream of fawning on me? I _detest_ you!"

Have you never loved anybody in all your life, uncle? never? Ah! you must look once. I'm so wretched, you can't help pitying me.'
'Keep your lizard's fingers off; and move away, or I'll kick you!' cried Heathcliff, brutally repulsing her. 'I'd rather be hugged by a snake. How the devil can you dream of fawning on me? I detest you!'


He shrugged his shoulders: shook himself, indeed, as if his flesh crept with aversion; and thrust back his chair; while I got up, and opened my mouth, to commence a downright torrent of abuse. But I was rendered dumb in the middle of the first sentence, by a threat that I should be shown into a room by myself the very next syllable I uttered. It was growing dark-we heard a sound of voices at the garden-gate. Our host hurried out instantly: _he_ had his wits about him; _we_ had not. There was a talk of two or three minutes, and he returned alone.
"I thought it had been your cousin Hareton," I observed to Catherine. "I wish he would arrive! Who knows but he might take our part?"

He shook himself, as if his flesh crept; and thrust back his chair. I opened my mouth to abuse him; but was silenced by a threat.
It was growing dark - we heard voices at the garden-gate. Our host hurried out instantly: after two or three minutes, he returned alone.
'I thought it had been your cousin Hareton,' I observed to Catherine. 'I wish he would arrive! He might take our part.'


"It was three servants sent to seek you from the Grange," said Heathcliff, overhearing me. "You should have opened a lattice and called out: but I could swear that chit is glad you didn't. She's glad to be obliged to stay, I'm certain."
At learning the chance we had missed, we both gave vent to our grief without control; and he allowed us to wail on till nine o'clock. Then he bid us go upstairs, through the kitchen, to Zillah's chamber; and I whispered my companion to obey: perhaps we might contrive to get through the window there, or into a garret, and out by its skylight. The window, however, was narrow, like those below, and the garret trap was safe from our attempts; for we were fastened in as before. We neither of us lay down: Catherine took her station by the lattice, and watched anxiously for morning; a deep sigh being the only answer I could obtain to my frequent entreaties that she would try to rest. I seated myself in a chair, and rocked to and fro, passing harsh judgment on my many derelictions of duty; from which, it struck me then, all the misfortunes of my employers sprang. It was not the case, in reality, I am aware; but it was, in my imagination, that dismal night; and I thought Heathcliff himself less guilty than I.

'It was three servants sent to seek you from the Grange,' said Heathcliff, overhearing me. 'You should have called through the window; but that chit is glad you didn't. She's glad to be obliged to stay, I'm certain.'
At learning the chance we had missed, we both wept; and he allowed us to wail on till nine o'clock. Then he bid us go upstairs to Zillah's chamber; and I whispered to my companion to obey: thinking perhaps we might get through the window there, or out by the garret skylight. The window, however, was too narrow, and the garret was locked.
We neither of us lay down. Catherine waited by the window, and watched anxiously for morning; a deep sigh being her only answer when I begged her to rest. I sat in a chair, and rocked to and fro, passing harsh judgment on myself; for, that dismal night, I thought Heathcliff himself less guilty than I.


At seven o'clock he came, and inquired if Miss Linton had risen. She ran to the door immediately, and answered, "Yes." "Here, then," he said, opening it, and pulling her out. I rose to follow, but he turned the lock again. I demanded my release.
"Be patient," he replied; "I'll send up your breakfast in a while."
I thumped on the panels, and rattled the latch angrily and Catherine asked why I was still shut up? He answered, I must try to endure it another hour, and they went away. I endured it two or three hours; at length, I heard a footstep: not Heathcliff's.
"I've brought you something to eat," said a voice; "oppen t' door!"

At seven o'clock he came for Catherine. She ran to the door immediately, and he pulled her out. When I rose to follow, he turned the lock again. I demanded my release.
'Be patient,' he replied; 'I'll send up your breakfast in a while.'
I thumped on the panels, and rattled the latch angrily. He told me I must endure it another hour, and then went away. I endured it two or three hours, until at length, I heard a footstep: not Heathcliff's.
'I've brought you something to eat,' said a voice; 'open t' door!'


Complying eagerly, I beheld Hareton, laden with food enough to last me all day.
"Tak' it," he added, thrusting the tray into my hand.
"Stay one minute," I began.
"Nay," cried he, and retired, regardless of any prayers I could pour forth to detain him.
And there I remained enclosed the whole day, and the whole of the next night; and another, and another. Five nights and four days I remained, altogether, seeing nobody but Hareton once every morning; and he was a model of a jailor: surly, and dumb, and deaf to every attempt at moving his sense of justice or compassion.

It was Hareton, laden with food. 'Take it,' he added, thrusting the tray into my hand, and retired, ignoring my prayers.
I remained enclosed the whole day, and the whole of the next night; and another, and another. Five nights and four days I remained, seeing nobody but Hareton; and he was a model jailor: surly, and dumb, and deaf to every appeal to his compassion.


A letter, edged with black, announced the day of my master's return. Isabella was dead; and he wrote to bid me get mourning for his daughter, and arrange a room, and other accommodations, for his youthful nephew. Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father back; and indulged most sanguine anticipations of the innumerable excellencies of her "real" cousin. The evening of their expected arrival came. Since early morning she had been busy ordering her own small affairs; and now attired in her new black frock-poor thing! her aunt's death impressed her with no definite sorrow-she obliged me, by constant worrying, to walk with her down through the grounds to meet them.

A letter, edged with black, came from my master. Isabella was dead; and Edgar was returning with his youthful nephew. Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father back; and looked forward to seeing her 'real' cousin. On the evening of their expected arrival, she persuaded me to walk with her through the grounds to meet them.


"Linton is just six months younger than I am," she chattered, as we strolled leisurely over the swells and hollows of mossy turf, under shadow of the trees. "How delightful it will be to have him for a playfellow! Aunt Isabella sent papa a beautiful lock of his hair; it was lighter than mine-more flaxen, and quite as fine. I have it carefully preserved in a little glass box; and I've often thought what a pleasure it would be to see its owner. Oh! I am happy-and papa, dear, dear papa! Come, Ellen, let us run! come, run."
She ran, and returned and ran again, many times before my sober footsteps reached the gate, and then she seated herself on the grassy bank beside the path, and tried to wait patiently; but that was impossible: she couldn't be still a minute.

'Linton is just six months younger than I am,' she chattered, as we strolled under the trees. 'How delightful it will be to have him for a playfellow! Aunt Isabella sent papa a beautiful lock of his hair; it was lighter than mine. I've often thought what a pleasure it would be to see its owner. Oh! I am happy - and dear papa! Come, Ellen, let us run!'
She ran to the gate, and then sat on the grassy bank beside the path, and tried to wait patiently; but that was impossible.


"How long they are!" she exclaimed. "Ah, I see, some dust on the road-they are coming! No! When will they be here? May we not go a little way-half a mile, Ellen, only just half a mile? Do say yes: to that clump of birches at the turn!"

'How long they are!' she exclaimed. 'Ah, I see some dust on the road - they are coming!'


I refused staunchly. At length her suspense was ended: the travelling carriage rolled in sight. Miss Cathy shrieked and stretched out her arms as soon as she caught her father's face looking from the window. He descended, nearly as eager as herself; and a considerable interval elapsed ere they had a thought to spare for any but themselves. While they exchanged caresses I took a peep in to see after Linton. He was asleep in a corner, wrapped in a warm, fur-lined cloak, as if it had been winter. A pale, delicate, effeminate boy, who might have been taken for my master's younger brother, so strong was the resemblance: but there was a sickly peevishness in his aspect that Edgar Linton never had. The latter saw me looking; and having shaken hands, advised me to close the door, and leave him undisturbed; for the journey had fatigued him. Cathy would fain have taken one glance, but her father told her to come, and they walked together up the park, while I hastened before to prepare the servants.

The travelling carriage rolled into sight. Miss Cathy shrieked and stretched out her arms as soon as she saw her father's face looking from the window. Edgar descended, and while they exchanged caresses I took a peep in at Linton. He was asleep in a corner, wrapped in a warm, fur-lined cloak. A pale, delicate, effeminate boy, who might have been taken for my master's younger brother, so strong was the resemblance: but there was a sickly peevishness in his aspect that Edgar Linton never had.
Mr Linton saw me looking; and advised me not to disturb him; for the journey had fatigued him.


"Now, darling," said Mr. Linton, addressing his daughter, as they halted at the bottom of the front steps: "your cousin is not so strong or so merry as you are, and he has lost his mother, remember, a very short time since; therefore, don't expect him to play and run about with you directly. And don't harass him much by talking: let him be quiet this evening, at least, will you?"
"Yes, yes, papa," answered Catherine: "but I do want to see him; and he hasn't once looked out."
The carriage stopped; and the sleeper being roused, was lifted to the ground by his uncle.
"This is your cousin Cathy, Linton," he said, putting their little hands together. "She's fond of you already; and mind you don't grieve her by crying to-night. Try to be cheerful now; the travelling is at an end, and you have nothing to do but rest and amuse yourself as you please."
"Let me go to bed, then," answered the boy, shrinking from Catherine's salute; and he put his fingers to remove incipient tears.
"Come, come, there's a good child," I whispered, leading him in. "You'll make her weep too-see how sorry she is for you!"

'Now, darling,' he said to his daughter, 'your cousin is not so strong or so merry as you are, and he has lost his mother, remember; so don't expect him to play and run about with you. Let him be quiet this evening, at least.'
Edgar and Cathy walked up to the house, while the carriage was driven round to the steps. There he roused Linton and lifted him out.
'This is your cousin Cathy, Linton,' he said, putting their little hands together. 'She's fond of you already; and mind you don't grieve her by crying. Try to be cheerful now; the travelling is at an end, and you can rest and amuse yourself as you please.'
'Let me go to bed, then,' answered the boy, shrinking from Catherine, and starting to weep.
'Come, come, there's a good child,' I whispered, leading him in. 'You'll make her weep too - see how sorry she is for you!'


I do not know whether it was sorrow for him, but his cousin put on as sad a countenance as himself, and returned to her father. All three entered, and mounted to the library, where tea was laid ready. I proceeded to remove Linton's cap and mantle, and placed him on a chair by the table; but he was no sooner seated than he began to cry afresh. My master inquired what was the matter.
"I can't sit on a chair," sobbed the boy.
"Go to the sofa, then, and Ellen shall bring you some tea," answered his uncle patiently.

Certainly, his cousin looked as sad as he did. All three went to the library, where tea was laid ready. I removed Linton's cap and cloak, and placed him on a chair by the table; but he began to cry afresh. My master inquired what was the matter.
'I can't sit on a chair,' sobbed the boy.
'Go to the sofa, then, and Ellen shall bring you some tea,' answered his uncle patiently.


He had been greatly tried, during the journey, I felt convinced, by his fretful ailing charge. Linton slowly trailed himself off, and lay down. Cathy carried a footstool and her cup to his side. At first she sat silent; but that could not last: she had resolved to make a pet of her little cousin, as she would have him to be; and she commenced stroking his curls, and kissing his cheek, and offering him tea in her saucer, like a baby. This pleased him, for he was not much better: he dried his eyes, and lightened into a faint smile.
"Oh, he'll do very well," said the master to me, after watching them a minute. "Very well, if we can keep him, Ellen. The company of a child of his own age will instil new spirit into him soon, and by wishing for strength he'll gain it."

He had been greatly tried during the journey, I felt convinced, by his fretful, ailing charge. Linton slowly trailed off, and lay down, and Cathy carried a footstool to his side. At first she sat silent; but that could not last: she had resolved to make a pet of her little cousin; and she commenced stroking his curls, and kissing his cheek, and offering him tea in her saucer, like a baby. This pleased him: he dried his eyes, and lightened into a faint smile.
'Oh, he'll do very well,' said the master to me, watching them. 'Very well, if we can keep him, Ellen. The company of a child of his own age will give him new spirit.'


"Ay, if we can keep him!" I mused to myself; and sore misgivings came over me that there was slight hope of that. And then, I thought, how ever will that weakling live at Wuthering Heights? Between his father and Hareton, what playmates and instructors they'll be. Our doubts were presently decided-even earlier than I expected. I had just taken the children upstairs, after tea was finished, and seen Linton asleep-he would not suffer me to leave him till that was the case-I had come down, and was standing by the table in the hall, lighting a bedroom candle for Mr. Edgar, when a maid stepped out of the kitchen and informed me that Mr. Heathcliff's servant Joseph was at the door, and wished to speak with the master.
"I shall ask him what he wants first," I said, in considerable trepidation. "A very unlikely hour to be troubling people, and the instant they have returned from a long journey. I don't think the master can see him."

'Ay, if we can keep him!' I mused to myself; I felt that there was little hope of that. I thought, how ever will that weakling live at Wuthering Heights, with Heathcliff and Hareton? what playmates and instructors they'll be.
Our doubts were soon decided. I had just taken the children upstairs to bed, and had come back down, when a maid informed me that Joseph was at the door, and wished to speak with the master.
'It is an unlikely hour to be troubling people, and the instant they have returned from a long journey,' I said. 'I don't think the master can see him.'


Joseph had advanced through the kitchen as I uttered these words, and now presented himself in the hall. He was donned in his Sunday garments, with his most sanctimonious and sourest face, and, holding his hat in one hand, and his stick in the other, he proceeded to clean his shoes on the mat.
"Good-evening, Joseph," I said, coldly. "What business brings you here to-night?"
"It's Maister Linton I mun spake to," he answered, waving me disdainfully aside.
"Mr. Linton is going to bed; unless you have something particular to say, I'm sure he won't hear it now," I continued. "You had better sit down in there, and entrust your message to me."
"Which is his rahm?" pursued the fellow, surveying the range of closed doors.

However, Joseph had advanced through the kitchen as I uttered these words, and now presented himself in his Sunday clothes, with his most sanctimonious and sourest face.
'Good-evening, Joseph,' I said, coldly. 'What brings you here tonight?'
'It's Master Linton I must speak to,' he answered, waving me disdainfully aside.
'Mr. Linton is going to bed; unless you have something particular to say, I'm sure he won't hear it now,' I continued. 'You had better entrust your message to me.'
'Which is his room?' he pursued, surveying the range of closed doors.


I perceived he was bent on refusing my mediation, so very reluctantly I went up to the library, and announced the unseasonable visitor, advising that he should be dismissed till next day. Mr. Linton had no time to empower me to do so, for Joseph mounted close at my heels, and, pushing into the apartment, planted himself at the far side of the table, with his two fists clapped on the head of his stick, and began in an elevated tone, as if anticipating opposition-
"Hathecliff has sent me for his lad, and I munn't goa back 'bout him."
Edgar Linton was silent a minute; an expression of exceeding sorrow overcast his features: he would have pitied the child on his own account; but, recalling Isabella's hopes and fears, and anxious wishes for her son, and her commendations of him to his care, he grieved bitterly at the prospect of yielding him up, and searched in his heart how it might be avoided. No plan offered itself: the very exhibition of any desire to keep him would have rendered the claimant more peremptory: there was nothing left but to resign him. However, he was not going to rouse him from his sleep.
"Tell Mr. Heathcliff," he answered calmly, "that his son shall come to Wuthering Heights to-morrow. He is in bed, and too tired to go the distance now. You may also tell him that the mother of Linton desired him to remain under my guardianship; and, at present, his health is very precarious."

Reluctantly I went to the library, and announced him. But Joseph followed close at my heels, and, pushing into the room, began in a high tone, as if anticipating opposition:
'Heathcliff has sent me for his lad, and I mustn't go back without him.'
Edgar Linton was silent a minute; sorrow overcast his features. Recalling Isabella's anxious wishes for her son, he grieved bitterly at the prospect of yielding him up, and searched in his heart how it might be avoided. No plan offered itself: there was nothing left but to resign him. However, he was not going to rouse him from his sleep.
'Tell Mr. Heathcliff,' he answered calmly, 'that his son shall come to Wuthering Heights tomorrow. He is in bed, and too tired to travel now. You may also tell him that Linton's mother desired him to remain under my guardianship; and, at present, his health is very precarious.'


"Noa!" said Joseph, giving a thud with his prop on the floor, and assuming an authoritative air. "Noa! that means naught. Hathecliff maks noa 'count o' t' mother, nor ye norther; but he'll heu' his lad; und I mun tak' him-soa now ye knaw!"
"You shall not to-night!" answered Linton decisively. "Walk down stairs at once, and repeat to your master what I have said. Ellen, show him down. Go-"

'No!' said Joseph. 'Heathcliff makes no account o' the mother; he'll have his lad; and I must take him - so now yah know!'
'Not tonight!' answered Linton decisively. 'Walk downstairs at once, and repeat to your master what I have said. Ellen, show him down. Go!'


And, aiding the indignant elder with a lift by the arm, he rid the room of him and closed the door.
"Varrah weell!" shouted Joseph, as he slowly drew off. "To-morn, he's come hisseln, and thrust _him_ out, if ye darr!"

And, aiding the indignant elder with his arm, he rid the room of him and closed the door.
'Very weell!' shouted Joseph as he left. 'To-morn, he'll come hisself; and thrust him out, if yah dare!'