For some days after that evening Mr. Heathcliff shunned meeting us at meals; yet he would not consent formally to exclude Hareton and Cathy. He had an aversion to yielding so completely to his feelings, choosing rather to absent himself; and eating once in twenty-four hours seemed sufficient sustenance for him.
One night, after the family were in bed, I heard him go downstairs, and out at the front door. I did not hear him re-enter, and in the morning I found he was still away. We were in April then: the weather was sweet and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it, and the two dwarf apple-trees near the southern wall in full bloom. After breakfast, Catherine insisted on my bringing a chair and sitting with my work under the fir-trees at the end of the house; and she beguiled Hareton, who had perfectly recovered from his accident, to dig and arrange her little garden, which was shifted to that corner by the influence of Joseph's complaints. I was comfortably revelling in the spring fragrance around, and the beautiful soft blue overhead, when my young lady, who had run down near the gate to procure some primrose roots for a border, returned only half laden, and informed us that Mr. Heathcliff was coming in. "And he spoke to me," she added, with a perplexed countenance.
"What did he say?" asked Hareton.
"He told me to begone as fast as I could," she answered. "But he looked so different from his usual look that I stopped a moment to stare at him."
"How?" he inquired.
"Why, almost bright and cheerful. No, _almost_ nothing-_very much_ excited, and wild, and glad!" she replied.
"Night-walking amuses him, then," I remarked, affecting a careless manner: in reality as surprised as she was, and anxious to ascertain the truth of her statement; for to see the master looking glad would not be an every-day spectacle. I framed an excuse to go in. Heathcliff stood at the open door; he was pale, and he trembled: yet, certainly, he had a strange joyful glitter in his eyes, that altered the aspect of his whole face.
"Will you have some breakfast?" I said. "You must be hungry, rambling about all night!" I wanted to discover where he had been, but I did not like to ask directly.
"No, I'm not hungry," he answered, averting his head, and speaking rather contemptuously, as if he guessed I was trying to divine the occasion of his good humour.
I felt perplexed: I didn't know whether it were not a proper opportunity to offer a bit of admonition.
"I don't think it right to wander out of doors," I observed, "instead of being in bed: it is not wise, at any rate this moist season. I daresay you'll catch a bad cold or a fever: you have something the matter with you now!"
"Nothing but what I can bear," he replied; "and with the greatest pleasure, provided you'll leave me alone: get in, and don't annoy me."
I obeyed: and, in passing, I noticed he breathed as fast as a cat.
"Yes!" I reflected to myself, "we shall have a fit of illness. I cannot conceive what he has been doing."
That noon he sat down to dinner with us, and received a heaped-up plate from my hands, as if he intended to make amends for previous fasting.
"I've neither cold nor fever, Nelly," he remarked, in allusion to my morning's speech; "and I'm ready to do justice to the food you give me."
He took his knife and fork, and was going to commence eating, when the inclination appeared to become suddenly extinct. He laid them on the table, looked eagerly towards the window, then rose and went out. We saw him walking to and fro in the garden while we concluded our meal, and Earnshaw said he'd go and ask why he would not dine: he thought we had grieved him some way.
"Well, is he coming?" cried Catherine, when her cousin returned.
"Nay," he answered; "but he's not angry: he seemed rarely pleased indeed; only I made him impatient by speaking to him twice; and then he bid me be off to you: he wondered how I could want the company of anybody else."
I set his plate to keep warm on the fender; and after an hour or two he re-entered, when the room was clear, in no degree calmer: the same unnatural-it was unnatural-appearance of joy under his black brows; the same bloodless hue, and his teeth visible, now and then, in a kind of smile; his frame shivering, not as one shivers with chill or weakness, but as a tight-stretched cord vibrates-a strong thrilling, rather than trembling.
I will ask what is the matter, I thought; or who should? And I exclaimed-"Have you heard any good news, Mr. Heathcliff? You look uncommonly animated."
"Where should good news come from to me?" he said. "I'm animated with hunger; and, seemingly, I must not eat."
"Your dinner is here," I returned; "why won't you get it?"
"I don't want it now," he muttered, hastily: "I'll wait till supper. And, Nelly, once for all, let me beg you to warn Hareton and the other away from me. I wish to be troubled by nobody: I wish to have this place to myself."
"Is there some new reason for this banishment?" I inquired. "Tell me why you are so queer, Mr. Heathcliff? Where were you last night? I'm not putting the question through idle curiosity, but-"
"You are putting the question through very idle curiosity," he interrupted, with a laugh. "Yet I'll answer it. Last night I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me! And now you'd better go! You'll neither see nor hear anything to frighten you, if you refrain from prying."
Having swept the hearth and wiped the table, I departed; more perplexed than ever.
He did not quit the house again that afternoon, and no one intruded on his solitude; till, at eight o'clock, I deemed it proper, though unsummoned, to carry a candle and his supper to him. He was leaning against the ledge of an open lattice, but not looking out: his face was turned to the interior gloom. The fire had smouldered to ashes; the room was filled with the damp, mild air of the cloudy evening; and so still, that not only the murmur of the beck down Gimmerton was distinguishable, but its ripples and its gurgling over the pebbles, or through the large stones which it could not cover. I uttered an ejaculation of discontent at seeing the dismal grate, and commenced shutting the casements, one after another, till I came to his.
"Must I close this?" I asked, in order to rouse him; for he would not stir.
The light flashed on his features as I spoke. Oh, Mr. Lockwood, I cannot express what a terrible start I got by the momentary view! Those deep black eyes! That smile, and ghastly paleness! It appeared to me, not Mr. Heathcliff, but a goblin; and, in my terror, I let the candle bend towards the wall, and it left me in darkness.
"Yes, close it," he replied, in his familiar voice. "There, that is pure awkwardness! Why did you hold the candle horizontally? Be quick, and bring another."
I hurried out in a foolish state of dread, and said to Joseph-"The master wishes you to take him a light and rekindle the fire." For I dared not go in myself again just then.
Joseph rattled some fire into the shovel, and went: but he brought it back immediately, with the supper-tray in his other hand, explaining that Mr. Heathcliff was going to bed, and he wanted nothing to eat till morning. We heard him mount the stairs directly; he did not proceed to his ordinary chamber, but turned into that with the panelled bed: its window, as I mentioned before, is wide enough for anybody to get through; and it struck me that he plotted another midnight excursion, of which he had rather we had no suspicion.
"Is he a ghoul or a vampire?" I mused. I had read of such hideous incarnate demons. And then I set myself to reflect how I had tended him in infancy, and watched him grow to youth, and followed him almost through his whole course; and what absurd nonsense it was to yield to that sense of horror. "But where did he come from, the little dark thing, harboured by a good man to his bane?" muttered Superstition, as I dozed into unconsciousness. And I began, half dreaming, to weary myself with imagining some fit parentage for him; and, repeating my waking meditations, I tracked his existence over again, with grim variations; at last, picturing his death and funeral: of which, all I can remember is, being exceedingly vexed at having the task of dictating an inscription for his monument, and consulting the sexton about it; and, as he had no surname, and we could not tell his age, we were obliged to content ourselves with the single word, "Heathcliff." That came true: we were. If you enter the kirkyard, you'll read, on his headstone, only that, and the date of his death.
Dawn restored me to common sense. I rose, and went into the garden, as soon as I could see, to ascertain if there were any footmarks under his window. There were none. "He has stayed at home," I thought, "and he'll be all right to-day." I prepared breakfast for the household, as was my usual custom, but told Hareton and Catherine to get theirs ere the master came down, for he lay late. They preferred taking it out of doors, under the trees, and I set a little table to accommodate them.
On my re-entrance, I found Mr. Heathcliff below. He and Joseph were conversing about some farming business; he gave clear, minute directions concerning the matter discussed, but he spoke rapidly, and turned his head continually aside, and had the same excited expression, even more exaggerated. When Joseph quitted the room he took his seat in the place he generally chose, and I put a basin of coffee before him. He drew it nearer, and then rested his arms on the table, and looked at the opposite wall, as I supposed, surveying one particular portion, up and down, with glittering, restless eyes, and with such eager interest that he stopped breathing during half a minute together.
"Come now," I exclaimed, pushing some bread against his hand, "eat and drink that, while it is hot: it has been waiting near an hour."
He didn't notice me, and yet he smiled. I'd rather have seen him gnash his teeth than smile so.
"Mr. Heathcliff! master!" I cried, "don't, for God's sake, stare as if you saw an unearthly vision."
"Don't, for God's sake, shout so loud," he replied. "Turn round, and tell me, are we by ourselves?"
"Of course," was my answer; "of course we are."
Still, I involuntarily obeyed him, as if I was not quite sure. With a sweep of his hand he cleared a vacant space in front among the breakfast things, and leant forward to gaze more at his ease.
Now, I perceived he was not looking at the wall; for when I regarded him alone, it seemed exactly that he gazed at something within two yards' distance. And whatever it was, it communicated, apparently, both pleasure and pain in exquisite extremes: at least the anguished, yet raptured, expression of his countenance suggested that idea. The fancied object was not fixed, either: his eyes pursued it with unwearied diligence, and, even in speaking to me, were never weaned away. I vainly reminded him of his protracted abstinence from food: if he stirred to touch anything in compliance with my entreaties, if he stretched his hand out to get a piece of bread, his fingers clenched before they reached it, and remained on the table, forgetful of their aim.
I sat, a model of patience, trying to attract his absorbed attention from its engrossing speculation; till he grew irritable, and got up, asking why I would not allow him to have his own time in taking his meals? and saying that on the next occasion I needn't wait: I might set the things down and go. Having uttered these words he left the house, slowly sauntered down the garden path, and disappeared through the gate.
The hours crept anxiously by: another evening came. I did not retire to rest till late, and when I did, I could not sleep. He returned after midnight, and, instead of going to bed, shut himself into the room beneath. I listened, and tossed about, and, finally, dressed and descended. It was too irksome to lie there, harassing my brain with a hundred idle misgivings.
I distinguished Mr. Heathcliff's step, restlessly measuring the floor, and he frequently broke the silence by a deep inspiration, resembling a groan. He muttered detached words also; the only one I could catch was the name of Catherine, coupled with some wild term of endearment or suffering; and spoken as one would speak to a person present; low and earnest, and wrung from the depth of his soul. I had not courage to walk straight into the apartment; but I desired to divert him from his reverie, and therefore fell foul of the kitchen fire, stirred it, and began to scrape the cinders. It drew him forth sooner than I expected. He opened the door immediately, and said-"Nelly, come here-is it morning? Come in with your light."
"It is striking four," I answered. "You want a candle to take upstairs: you might have lit one at this fire."
"No, I don't wish to go upstairs," he said. "Come in, and kindle _me_ a fire, and do anything there is to do about the room."
"I must blow the coals red first, before I can carry any," I replied, getting a chair and the bellows.
He roamed to and fro, meantime, in a state approaching distraction; his heavy sighs succeeding each other so thick as to leave no space for common breathing between.
"When day breaks I'll send for Green," he said; "I wish to make some legal inquiries of him while I can bestow a thought on those matters, and while I can act calmly. I have not written my will yet; and how to leave my property I cannot determine. I wish I could annihilate it from the face of the earth."
"I would not talk so, Mr. Heathcliff," I interposed. "Let your will be a while: you'll be spared to repent of your many injustices yet! I never expected that your nerves would be disordered: they are, at present, marvellously so, however; and almost entirely through your own fault. The way you've passed these three last days might knock up a Titan. Do take some food, and some repose. You need only look at yourself in a glass to see how you require both. Your cheeks are hollow, and your eyes blood-shot, like a person starving with hunger and going blind with loss of sleep."
"It is not my fault that I cannot eat or rest," he replied. "I assure you it is through no settled designs. I'll do both, as soon as I possibly can. But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water rest within arms' length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest. Well, never mind Mr. Green: as to repenting of my injustices, I've done no injustice, and I repent of nothing. I'm too happy; and yet I'm not happy enough. My soul's bliss kills my body, but does not satisfy itself."
"Happy, master?" I cried. "Strange happiness! If you would hear me without being angry, I might offer some advice that would make you happier."
"What is that?" he asked. "Give it."
"You are aware, Mr. Heathcliff," I said, "that from the time you were thirteen years old you have lived a selfish, unchristian life; and probably hardly had a Bible in your hands during all that period. You must have forgotten the contents of the book, and you may not have space to search it now. Could it be hurtful to send for some one-some minister of any denomination, it does not matter which-to explain it, and show you how very far you have erred from its precepts; and how unfit you will be for its heaven, unless a change takes place before you die?"
"I'm rather obliged than angry, Nelly," he said, "for you remind me of the manner in which I desire to be buried. It is to be carried to the churchyard in the evening. You and Hareton may, if you please, accompany me: and mind, particularly, to notice that the sexton obeys my directions concerning the two coffins! No minister need come; nor need anything be said over me.-I tell you I have nearly attained _my_ heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued and uncoveted by me."
"And supposing you persevered in your obstinate fast, and died by that means, and they refused to bury you in the precincts of the kirk?" I said, shocked at his godless indifference. "How would you like it?"
"They won't do that," he replied: "if they did, you must have me removed secretly; and if you neglect it you shall prove, practically, that the dead are not annihilated!"
As soon as he heard the other members of the family stirring he retired to his den, and I breathed freer. But in the afternoon, while Joseph and Hareton were at their work, he came into the kitchen again, and, with a wild look, bid me come and sit in the house: he wanted somebody with him. I declined; telling him plainly that his strange talk and manner frightened me, and I had neither the nerve nor the will to be his companion alone.
"I believe you think me a fiend," he said, with his dismal laugh: "something too horrible to live under a decent roof." Then turning to Catherine, who was there, and who drew behind me at his approach, he added, half sneeringly,-"Will _you_ come, chuck? I'll not hurt you. No! to you I've made myself worse than the devil. Well, there is _one_ who won't shrink from my company! By God! she's relentless. Oh, damn it! It's unutterably too much for flesh and blood to bear-even mine."
He solicited the society of no one more. At dusk he went into his chamber. Through the whole night, and far into the morning, we heard him groaning and murmuring to himself. Hareton was anxious to enter; but I bid him fetch Mr. Kenneth, and he should go in and see him. When he came, and I requested admittance and tried to open the door, I found it locked; and Heathcliff bid us be damned. He was better, and would be left alone; so the doctor went away.
The following evening was very wet: indeed, it poured down till day-dawn; and, as I took my morning walk round the house, I observed the master's window swinging open, and the rain driving straight in. He cannot be in bed, I thought: those showers would drench him through. He must either be up or out. But I'll make no more ado, I'll go boldly and look."
Having succeeded in obtaining entrance with another key, I ran to unclose the panels, for the chamber was vacant; quickly pushing them aside, I peeped in. Mr. Heathcliff was there-laid on his back. His eyes met mine so keen and fierce, I started; and then he seemed to smile. I could not think him dead: but his face and throat were washed with rain; the bed-clothes dripped, and he was perfectly still. The lattice, flapping to and fro, had grazed one hand that rested on the sill; no blood trickled from the broken skin, and when I put my fingers to it, I could doubt no more: he was dead and stark!
I hasped the window; I combed his black long hair from his forehead; I tried to close his eyes: to extinguish, if possible, that frightful, life-like gaze of exultation before any one else beheld it. They would not shut: they seemed to sneer at my attempts; and his parted lips and sharp white teeth sneered too! Taken with another fit of cowardice, I cried out for Joseph. Joseph shuffled up and made a noise, but resolutely refused to meddle with him.
"Th' divil's harried off his soul," he cried, "and he may hev' his carcass into t' bargin, for aught I care! Ech! what a wicked 'un he looks, girning at death!" and the old sinner grinned in mockery. I thought he intended to cut a caper round the bed; but suddenly composing himself, he fell on his knees, and raised his hands, and returned thanks that the lawful master and the ancient stock were restored to their rights.
I felt stunned by the awful event; and my memory unavoidably recurred to former times with a sort of oppressive sadness. But poor Hareton, the most wronged, was the only one who really suffered much. He sat by the corpse all night, weeping in bitter earnest. He pressed its hand, and kissed the sarcastic, savage face that every one else shrank from contemplating; and bemoaned him with that strong grief which springs naturally from a generous heart, though it be tough as tempered steel.
Mr. Kenneth was perplexed to pronounce of what disorder the master died. I concealed the fact of his having swallowed nothing for four days, fearing it might lead to trouble, and then, I am persuaded, he did not abstain on purpose: it was the consequence of his strange illness, not the cause.
We buried him, to the scandal of the whole neighbourhood, as he wished. Earnshaw and I, the sexton, and six men to carry the coffin, comprehended the whole attendance. The six men departed when they had let it down into the grave: we stayed to see it covered. Hareton, with a streaming face, dug green sods, and laid them over the brown mould himself: at present it is as smooth and verdant as its companion mounds-and I hope its tenant sleeps as soundly. But the country folks, if you ask them, would swear on the Bible that he _walks_: there are those who speak to having met him near the church, and on the moor, and even within this house. Idle tales, you'll say, and so say I. Yet that old man by the kitchen fire affirms he has seen two on 'em looking out of his chamber window on every rainy night since his death:-and an odd thing happened to me about a month ago. I was going to the Grange one evening-a dark evening, threatening thunder-and, just at the turn of the Heights, I encountered a little boy with a sheep and two lambs before him; he was crying terribly; and I supposed the lambs were skittish, and would not be guided.
"What is the matter, my little man?" I asked.
"There's Heathcliff and a woman yonder, under t' nab," he blubbered, "un' I darnut pass 'em."
I saw nothing; but neither the sheep nor he would go on so I bid him take the road lower down. He probably raised the phantoms from thinking, as he traversed the moors alone, on the nonsense he had heard his parents and companions repeat. Yet, still, I don't like being out in the dark now; and I don't like being left by myself in this grim house: I cannot help it; I shall be glad when they leave it, and shift to the Grange.
"They are going to the Grange, then?" I said.
"Yes," answered Mrs. Dean, "as soon as they are married, and that will be on New Year's Day."
"And who will live here then?"
"Why, Joseph will take care of the house, and, perhaps, a lad to keep him company. They will live in the kitchen, and the rest will be shut up."
"For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it?" I observed.
"No, Mr. Lockwood," said Nelly, shaking her head. "I believe the dead are at peace: but it is not right to speak of them with levity."
At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning.
"_They_ are afraid of nothing," I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. "Together, they would brave Satan and all his legions."
As they stepped on to the door-stones, and halted to take a last look at the moon-or, more correctly, at each other by her light-I felt irresistibly impelled to escape them again; and, pressing a remembrance into the hand of Mrs. Dean, and disregarding her expostulations at my rudeness, I vanished through the kitchen as they opened the house-door; and so should have confirmed Joseph in his opinion of his fellow-servant's gay indiscretions, had he not fortunately recognised me for a respectable character by the sweet ring of a sovereign at his feet.
My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirk. When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.
I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: the middle one grey, and half buried in the heath; Edgar Linton's only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff's still bare.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

For some days after that evening Mr. Heathcliff absented himself from meals; eating once in twenty-four hours seemed sufficient for him.
One night, after the family were in bed, I heard him go downstairs, and out at the front door. In the morning I found he was still away. It was April: the weather was sweet and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it, and the dwarf apple-trees in full bloom. After breakfast, Catherine insisted on my bringing a chair and sitting with my work under the fir-trees at the end of the house; and she beguiled Hareton to dig her little garden.
I was comfortably enjoying the spring fragrance around, and the beautiful soft blue overhead, when my young lady, who had run down to the gate, informed us that Mr. Heathcliff was coming in. 'And he spoke to me,' she added, looking perplexed.
'What did he say?' asked Hareton.
'He told me to begone as fast as I could,' she answered. 'But he looked so different to usual that I stopped to stare at him.'
'Different? How?'
'Why, almost bright and cheerful. No, almost nothing - very much excited, and wild, and glad!' she replied.
'Night-walking amuses him, then,' I remarked, affecting a careless manner, but really as surprised as she was, for to see the master looking glad would not be an everyday sight.
I made an excuse to go in. Heathcliff stood at the door; he was pale, and he trembled: yet, certainly, he had a strange joyful glitter in his eyes, that altered the aspect of his whole face.
'Will you have some breakfast?' I said. 'You must be hungry, rambling about all night!' I did not like to ask directly where he had been.
'No, I'm not hungry,' he answered.
'I don't think it right to wander out of doors at night,' I advised him, 'it is not wise in this moist season. I daresay you'll catch a cold or a fever: you have something the matter with you now!'
'Nothing but what I can bear,' he replied. 'Get in, and don't annoy me.'
In passing him, I noticed he breathed as fast as a cat.
'Yes!' I reflected, 'we shall have a fit of illness. I cannot imagine what he has been doing.'
That noon Heathcliff sat down to dinner with us, and took a heaped-up plate from my hands, as if he intended to make up for his previous fasting.
'I've neither cold nor fever, Nelly,' he remarked, 'and I'm ready to do justice to your food.'
He took his knife and fork, and was about to begin eating, when he suddenly laid them on the table, looked eagerly towards the window, and then rose and went out. We saw him walking to and fro in the garden. Hareton said he'd go and ask why he would not dine: he thought we had grieved him in some way.
'Well, is he coming?' cried Catherine, when her cousin returned.
'Nay,' he answered; 'but he's not angry: he seemed pleased; only he bid me return to you: he wondered how I could want the company of anybody else.'
I set his plate to keep warm on the fender; and after an hour or two he re-entered, with the same unnatural appearance of joy under his black brows; the same bloodless hue, and his teeth visible in a kind of smile. He was shivering, not as one shivers with chill or weakness, but as a tight-stretched cord vibrates - a strong thrilling, rather than trembling.
'Have you heard any good news, Mr. Heathcliff?' I exclaimed. 'You look uncommonly animated.'
'Where should good news come from to me?' he said. 'I'm animated with hunger; and, seemingly, I must not eat.'
'Your dinner is here,' I returned; 'why won't you get it?'
'I don't want it now,' he muttered hastily: 'I'll wait till supper. And, Nelly, you warn Hareton and the other away from me. I wish to be troubled by nobody: I wish to have this place to myself.'
'Why are you so strange, Mr. Heathcliff? Where were you last night? I'm not asking through idle curiosity, but-'
'You are asking through very idle curiosity,' he interrupted, with a laugh. 'Yet I'll answer. Last night I was on the threshold of hell. Today, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet away! Now you'd better go! And don't pry any longer.'
Having swept the hearth, I departed, more perplexed than ever.
He did not leave the house again that afternoon, and no one intruded on his solitude; till, at eight o'clock, I carried a candle and his supper to him. He was leaning against the ledge of an open window, but not looking out: his face was turned to the interior gloom. The fire had smouldered to ashes; the room was filled with the damp, mild air of the cloudy evening; and it was so still, that the gurgling of the beck down to Gimmerton could be heard.
I exclaimed at seeing the dismal grate, and shut the casement windows, one after another, till I came to his.
'Shall I close this?' I asked, to rouse him; for he would not stir.
The light flashed on his features as I spoke. Oh, Mr. Lockwood, I cannot express what a terrible shock I had! Those deep black eyes! That smile, and ghastly paleness! It appeared to me, not Mr. Heathcliff, but a goblin; and, in my terror, I let the candle fall sideways and go out.
'Yes, close it,' he replied, in his familiar voice. 'There, that is pure awkwardness! Why did you hold the candle horizontally? Be quick, and bring another.'
I hurried out in a foolish state of dread, and said to Joseph, 'The master wishes you to take him a light and make the fire.' For I dared not go in myself just then.
Joseph went: but he came back immediately, with the supper-tray, explaining that Mr. Heathcliff was going to bed, and he wanted nothing to eat till morning. We heard him mount the stairs; he did not go to his ordinary chamber, but turned into that with the panelled bed. Its window is wide enough for anybody to get through; and it struck me that he plotted another midnight excursion.
'Is he a ghoul or a vampire?' I mused. I had read of such hideous demons. And then I made myself reflect how I had tended him in infancy, and watched him grow to youth, and what absurd nonsense it was to yield to that sense of horror.
'But where did he come from, that little, dark, baleful thing?' muttered Superstition, as I dozed. And I began, half dreaming, to imagine his parentage; and I tracked his existence over again, at last picturing his death and funeral: of which all I can remember is, being vexed at having to decide on the inscription for his gravestone. As he had no surname, and we could not tell his age, we had to content ourselves with the single word, 'Heathcliff.' That came true. If you enter the churchyard, you'll read, on his headstone, only that, and the date of his death.
Dawn restored me to common sense. I rose, and went into the garden, to see if there were any footmarks under his window. There were none.
'He has stayed at home,' I thought; 'he'll be all right today.' I prepared breakfast for the household, but told Hareton and Catherine to get theirs before the master came down, for he slept late. They chose to have it out of doors, under the trees.
On my re-entrance, I found Mr. Heathcliff. He and Joseph were talking about some farming business; he gave clear directions about the matter, but he spoke rapidly, and turned his head continually, and had the same excited expression. When Joseph left the room he sat in his usual place, and I put a basin of coffee before him. Heathcliff drew it nearer, and then looked at the opposite wall, surveying one particular portion up and down, with glittering, restless eyes, and with such eager interest that he stopped breathing for half a minute together.
'Come now,' I exclaimed, pushing some bread against his hand, 'eat and drink that, while it is hot.'
He didn't notice me, and yet he smiled. I'd rather have seen him gnash his teeth than smile so.
'Mr. Heathcliff! master!' I cried, 'don't, for God's sake, stare as if you saw an unearthly vision.'
'Don't, for God's sake, shout so loud,' he replied. 'Turn round, and tell me, are we by ourselves?'
'Of course we are!'
Still, I obeyed him, as if I was not quite sure. With a sweep of his hand he cleared a vacant space among the breakfast things, and leant forward to gaze.
Now, I saw he was not looking at the wall; but at something within two yards' distance. And whatever it was, it seemed to give him both pleasure and pain in exquisite extremes: at least his anguished, yet raptured, expression suggested that.
The fancied object moved, for his eyes followed it, even when he was speaking to me. I vainly reminded him that he needed to eat; but if he stretched his hand out to get a piece of bread, his fingers clenched before they reached it, and remained on the table, forgetful of their aim.
I patiently tried to attract his absorbed attention until he grew irritable, and got up, asking why I would not allow him to eat in his own time? and then saying that I needn't wait: I might set the things down and go. He left the house, slowly walked down the garden path, and disappeared through the gate.
The hours crept anxiously by: another evening came. I did not retire to rest till late, and when I did, I could not sleep. He returned after midnight, and, instead of going to bed, shut himself in the room beneath. I listened, and tossed about, and finally dressed and descended, my brain full of a hundred misgivings.
I heard Mr. Heathcliff's step, restlessly measuring the floor, and he frequently broke the silence by a deeply drawn breath, resembling a groan. He muttered words also; the only one I could catch was the name of Catherine, coupled with some wild term of endearment or suffering; and spoken as one would speak to a person present; low and earnest, and wrung from the depth of his soul.
I had not courage to walk straight into the room; but to divert him, I stirred the kitchen fire, and scraped the embers. He opened the door immediately, and said, 'Nelly - is it morning? Come in with your light.'
'It is striking four,' I answered. 'You want a candle to take upstairs.'
'No, I don't wish to go upstairs,' he said. 'Come in, and kindle me a fire.'
While I got the bellows, he roamed to and fro in a distracted state, sighing constantly and heavily.
'When day breaks I'll send for Green,' he said; 'I wish to make some legal inquiries while I can act calmly. I have not written my will yet; and I cannot decide how to leave my property. I wish I could annihilate it from the face of the earth.'
'Do not talk so, Mr. Heathcliff,' I said. 'Leave your will be a while: you'll be spared to repent of your injustices yet! Your nerves are disordered, and it is your own fault. The way you've passed these three last days might exhaust a Titan. Do take some food, and rest. Your cheeks are hollow, and your eyes blood-shot, like a person starving with hunger and going blind with loss of sleep.'
'It is not my fault that I cannot eat or rest,' he replied. 'I'll do both, as soon as I can. But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water to rest within arms' length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest. Well, never mind Mr. Green: as to injustice, I've done none, and I repent of nothing. I'm too happy; and yet I'm not happy enough. My soul's bliss kills my body, but does not satisfy itself.'
'Happy, master?' I cried. 'Strange happiness! I might offer some advice that would make you happier.'
'What is that?' he asked.
'You are aware, Mr. Heathcliff,' I said, 'that since you were thirteen years old you have lived a selfish, unchristian life; and hardly had a Bible in your hands during all that time. You must have forgotten the contents of that book. Could it hurt to send for a minister, who will show you how very far you have erred, and how unfit you will be for its heaven, unless a change takes place before you die?'
'I'm obliged, Nelly,' he said, 'for you remind me of the manner in which I desire to be buried. It is to be carried to the churchyard in the evening. You and Hareton may, if you please, accompany me: and mind, particularly, to see that the sexton obeys my directions concerning the two coffins! No minister need come; nor need any words be said over me. I have nearly attained my heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued and uncoveted by me.'
'And supposing you died because of your obstinate fast, and they refused to bury you in the churchyard?' I said, shocked at his godless indifference. 'How would you like it?'
'They won't do that,' he replied: 'if they did, you must have me moved secretly, or I shall haunt you!'
On hearing other members of the family stirring, he retired to his den, and I breathed freer. But in the afternoon, he came into the kitchen again, and, with a wild look, bid me come and sit in the house: he wanted somebody with him. I declined; telling him plainly that he frightened me.
'I believe you think me a fiend,' he said, with his dismal laugh. Then turning to Catherine, who drew behind me, he added, half sneeringly, 'Will you come? I'll not hurt you. No! to you I'm worse than the devil. Well, there is one who won't shrink from my company! By God! she's relentless. Oh, damn it! It's too much for flesh and blood to bear - even mine.'
He asked no more for company. At dusk he went into his chamber. Through the whole night, and far into the morning, we heard him groaning and murmuring to himself. Hareton was anxious to enter; but I bid him fetch Dr. Kenneth.
When he came, and I tried to open the door, I found it locked; and Heathcliff bid us be damned. He said he was better, and would be left alone; so the doctor went away.
The following evening was very wet: indeed, it poured down till dawn; and, as I took my morning walk round the house, I observed the master's window swinging open, and the rain driving straight in. He cannot be in bed, I thought: those showers would drench him through. He must either be up or out. I decided to go and look.
Having got in with another key, I ran to unclose the panels, for the chamber was vacant; quickly pushing them aside, I peeped in.
Mr. Heathcliff was there - laid on his back. His eyes met mine so keen and fierce, I started; and then he seemed to smile. I could not think him dead: but his face and throat were washed with rain; the bed-clothes dripped, and he was perfectly still. The lattice window, flapping to and fro, grazed one hand that rested on the sill. No blood trickled from the broken skin, and when I put my fingers to it, I could doubt no more: he was dead and stark!
I shut the window. I combed his black long hair from his forehead; I tried to close his eyes, to extinguish, if possible, that frightful gaze of exultation. They would not shut: they seemed to sneer at my attempts; and his parted lips and sharp white teeth sneered too! I cried out for Joseph, who shuffled up, but resolutely refused to meddle with him.
'Th' devil's harried off his soul,' he cried, 'and he may have his carcass too, for aught I care! Ech! what a wicked 'un he looks, girning at death!' and the old sinner grinned in mockery. Then, suddenly composing himself, he fell on his knees, and gave thanks that the lawful master was restored to his rights.
I felt stunned; and I remembered former times with a sort of oppressive sadness. But poor Hareton, the most wronged, was the only one who really suffered much. He sat by the corpse all night, weeping in bitter earnest. He pressed its hand, and kissed the sarcastic, savage face that everyone else shrank from contemplating; and bemoaned him with that strong grief which springs naturally from a generous heart, though it be tough as tempered steel.
Dr. Kenneth was perplexed to say what disorder the master died of. I concealed the fact of his having swallowed nothing for four days, fearing it might lead to trouble; in any case, it was the consequence of his strange illness, not the cause.
We buried him, to the scandal of the whole neighbourhood, as he wished. Hareton and I, the sexton, and six men accompanied the coffin. The six men departed when they had let it down into the grave. Hareton, with a streaming face, laid green sods over the brown soil. Now it is as smooth and verdant as its companion mounds - and I hope its tenant sleeps as soundly.
But the country folks would swear on the Bible that he walks: there are those who speak of having met him near the church, and on the moor, and even within this house. Idle tales - yet that old man in the kitchen affirms he has seen two of 'em looking out of Heathcliff's chamber window on every rainy night since his death.
And an odd thing happened to me about a month ago. I was going to the Grange one dark evening, and, near the Heights, I encountered a little boy with a sheep and two lambs. He was crying terribly.
'What is the matter, my little man?' I asked.
'There's Heathcliff and a woman yonder,' he blubbered, 'an' I daren't pass 'em.'
I saw nothing; but neither the sheep nor he would go on, so I bid him take the road lower down. He had probably been thinking of some nonsense he had heard his parents repeat. Yet, still, I don't like being out in the dark now; and I don't like being left by myself in this grim house. I shall be glad when they leave it, and move to the Grange.
'They are going to Thrushcross Grange, then?' I said.
'Yes,' answered Mrs. Dean, 'as soon as they are married, and that will be on New Year's Day.'
'And who will live at Wuthering Heights then?'
'Why, Joseph will take care of the house, with perhaps, a lad to keep him company. They will live in the kitchen, and the rest will be shut up.'
'For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it?' I observed.
'No, Mr. Lockwood,' said Nelly, shaking her head. 'I believe the dead are at peace.'
At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning. As they halted in the doorway to take a last look at the moon - or, more correctly, at each other - I felt impelled to escape them again; and, pressing the hand of Mrs. Dean, I vanished through the kitchen.
On my walk home I went past the church. Here, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted from the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.
I soon discovered the three headstones on the slope next to the moor: the middle one grey, and half buried in the heath; Edgar Linton's with turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff's still bare.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.


1802.-This September I was invited to devastate the moors of a friend in the north, and on my journey to his abode, I unexpectedly came within fifteen miles of Gimmerton. The ostler at a roadside public-house was holding a pail of water to refresh my horses, when a cart of very green oats, newly reaped, passed by, and he remarked,-"Yon's frough Gimmerton, nah! They're allas three wick' after other folk wi' ther harvest."
"Gimmerton?" I repeated-my residence in that locality had already grown dim and dreamy. "Ah! I know. How far is it from this?"
"Happen fourteen mile o'er th' hills; and a rough road," he answered.
A sudden impulse seized me to visit Thrushcross Grange. It was scarcely noon, and I conceived that I might as well pass the night under my own roof as in an inn. Besides, I could spare a day easily to arrange matters with my landlord, and thus save myself the trouble of invading the neighbourhood again. Having rested awhile, I directed my servant to inquire the way to the village; and, with great fatigue to our beasts, we managed the distance in some three hours.
I left him there, and proceeded down the valley alone. The grey church looked greyer, and the lonely churchyard lonelier. I distinguished a moor-sheep cropping the short turf on the graves. It was sweet, warm weather-too warm for travelling; but the heat did not hinder me from enjoying the delightful scenery above and below: had I seen it nearer August, I'm sure it would have tempted me to waste a month among its solitudes. In winter nothing more dreary, in summer nothing more divine, than those glens shut in by hills, and those bluff, bold swells of heath.
I reached the Grange before sunset, and knocked for admittance; but the family had retreated into the back premises, I judged, by one thin, blue wreath, curling from the kitchen chimney, and they did not hear. I rode into the court. Under the porch, a girl of nine or ten sat knitting, and an old woman reclined on the housesteps, smoking a meditative pipe.
"Is Mrs. Dean within?" I demanded of the dame.
"Mistress Dean? Nay!" she answered, "she doesn't bide here: shoo's up at th' Heights."
"Are you the housekeeper, then?" I continued.
"Eea, aw keep th' hause," she replied.
"Well, I'm Mr. Lockwood, the master. Are there any rooms to lodge me in, I wonder? I wish to stay all night."
"T' maister!" she cried in astonishment. "Whet, whoiver knew yah wur coming? Yah sud ha' send word. They's nowt norther dry nor mensful abaht t' place: nowt there isn't!"
She threw down her pipe and bustled in, the girl followed, and I entered too; soon perceiving that her report was true, and, moreover, that I had almost upset her wits by my unwelcome apparition, I bade her be composed. I would go out for a walk; and, meantime she must try to prepare a corner of a sitting-room for me to sup in, and a bedroom to sleep in. No sweeping and dusting, only good fire and dry sheets were necessary. She seemed willing to do her best; though she thrust the hearth-brush into the grates in mistake for the poker, and malappropriated several other articles of her craft: but I retired, confiding in her energy for a resting-place against my return. Wuthering Heights was the goal of my proposed excursion. An afterthought brought me back, when I had quitted the court.
"All well at the Heights?" I inquired of the woman.
"Eea, f'r owt ee knaw!" she answered, skurrying away with a pan of hot cinders.
I would have asked why Mrs. Dean had deserted the Grange, but it was impossible to delay her at such a crisis, so I turned away and made my exit, rambling leisurely along, with the glow of a sinking sun behind, and the mild glory of a rising moon in front-one fading, and the other brightening-as I quitted the park, and climbed the stony by-road branching off to Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling. Before I arrived in sight of it, all that remained of day was a beamless amber light along the west: but I could see every pebble on the path, and every blade of grass, by that splendid moon. I had neither to climb the gate nor to knock-it yielded to my hand. That is an improvement, I thought. And I noticed another, by the aid of my nostrils; a fragrance of stocks and wallflowers wafted on the air from amongst the homely fruit-trees.
Both doors and lattices were open; and yet, as is usually the case in a coal-district, a fine red fire illumined the chimney: the comfort which the eye derives from it renders the extra heat endurable. But the house of Wuthering Heights is so large that the inmates have plenty of space for withdrawing out of its influence; and accordingly what inmates there were had stationed themselves not far from one of the windows. I could both see them and hear them talk before I entered, and looked and listened in consequence; being moved thereto by a mingled sense of curiosity and envy, that grew as I lingered.
"Con-_trary_!" said a voice as sweet as a silver bell. "That for the third time, you dunce! I'm not going to tell you again. Recollect, or I'll pull your hair!"
"Contrary, then," answered another, in deep but softened tones. "And now, kiss me, for minding so well."
"No, read it over first correctly, without a single mistake."
The male speaker began to read: he was a young man, respectably dressed and seated at a table, having a book before him. His handsome features glowed with pleasure, and his eyes kept impatiently wandering from the page to a small white hand over his shoulder, which recalled him by a smart slap on the cheek, whenever its owner detected such signs of inattention. Its owner stood behind; her light, shining ringlets blending, at intervals, with his brown looks, as she bent to superintend his studies; and her face-it was lucky he could not see her face, or he would never have been so steady. I could; and I bit my lip in spite, at having thrown away the chance I might have had of doing something besides staring at its smiting beauty.
The task was done, not free from further blunders; but the pupil claimed a reward, and received at least five kisses; which, however, he generously returned. Then they came to the door, and from their conversation I judged they were about to issue out and have a walk on the moors. I supposed I should be condemned in Hareton Earnshaw's heart, if not by his mouth, to the lowest pit in the infernal regions if I showed my unfortunate person in his neighbourhood then; and feeling very mean and malignant, I skulked round to seek refuge in the kitchen. There was unobstructed admittance on that side also; and at the door sat my old friend Nelly Dean, sewing and singing a song; which was often interrupted from within by harsh words of scorn and intolerance, uttered in far from musical accents.
"I'd rayther, by th' haulf, hev' 'em swearing i' my lugs fro'h morn to neeght, nor hearken ye hahsiver!" said the tenant of the kitchen, in answer to an unheard speech of Nelly's. "It's a blazing shame, that I cannot oppen t' blessed Book, but yah set up them glories to sattan, and all t' flaysome wickednesses that iver were born into th' warld! Oh! ye're a raight nowt; and shoo's another; and that poor lad 'll be lost atween ye. Poor lad!" he added, with a groan; "he's witched: I'm sartin on't. Oh, Lord, judge 'em, for there's norther law nor justice among wer rullers!"
"No! or we should be sitting in flaming fagots, I suppose," retorted the singer. "But wisht, old man, and read your Bible like a Christian, and never mind me. This is 'Fairy Annie's Wedding'-a bonny tune-it goes to a dance."
Mrs. Dean was about to recommence, when I advanced; and recognising me directly, she jumped to her feet, crying-"Why, bless you, Mr. Lockwood! How could you think of returning in this way? All's shut up at Thrushcross Grange. You should have given us notice!"
"I've arranged to be accommodated there, for as long as I shall stay," I answered. "I depart again to-morrow. And how are you transplanted here, Mrs. Dean? tell me that."
"Zillah left, and Mr. Heathcliff wished me to come, soon after you went to London, and stay till you returned. But, step in, pray! Have you walked from Gimmerton this evening?"
"From the Grange," I replied; "and while they make me lodging room there, I want to finish my business with your master; because I don't think of having another opportunity in a hurry."
"What business, sir?" said Nelly, conducting me into the house. "He's gone out at present, and won't return soon."
"About the rent," I answered.
"Oh! then it is with Mrs. Heathcliff you must settle," she observed; "or rather with me. She has not learnt to manage her affairs yet, and I act for her: there's nobody else."
I looked surprised.
"Ah! you have not heard of Heathcliff's death, I see," she continued.
"Heathcliff dead!" I exclaimed, astonished. "How long ago?"
"Three months since: but sit down, and let me take your hat, and I'll tell you all about it. Stop, you have had nothing to eat, have you?"
"I want nothing: I have ordered supper at home. You sit down too. I never dreamt of his dying! Let me hear how it came to pass. You say you don't expect them back for some time-the young people?"
"No-I have to scold them every evening for their late rambles: but they don't care for me. At least, have a drink of our old ale; it will do you good: you seem weary."
She hastened to fetch it before I could refuse, and I heard Joseph asking whether "it warn't a crying scandal that she should have followers at her time of life? And then, to get them jocks out o' t' maister's cellar! He fair shaamed to 'bide still and see it."
She did not stay to retaliate, but re-entered in a minute, bearing a reaming silver pint, whose contents I lauded with becoming earnestness. And afterwards she furnished me with the sequel of Heathcliff's history. He had a "queer" end, as she expressed it.
I was summoned to Wuthering Heights, within a fortnight of your leaving us, she said; and I obeyed joyfully, for Catherine's sake. My first interview with her grieved and shocked me: she had altered so much since our separation. Mr. Heathcliff did not explain his reasons for taking a new mind about my coming here; he only told me he wanted me, and he was tired of seeing Catherine: I must make the little parlour my sitting-room, and keep her with me. It was enough if he were obliged to see her once or twice a day. She seemed pleased at this arrangement; and, by degrees, I smuggled over a great number of books, and other articles, that had formed her amusement at the Grange; and flattered myself we should get on in tolerable comfort. The delusion did not last long. Catherine, contented at first, in a brief space grew irritable and restless. For one thing, she was forbidden to move out of the garden, and it fretted her sadly to be confined to its narrow bounds as spring drew on; for another, in following the house, I was forced to quit her frequently, and she complained of loneliness: she preferred quarrelling with Joseph in the kitchen to sitting at peace in her solitude. I did not mind their skirmishes: but Hareton was often obliged to seek the kitchen also, when the master wanted to have the house to himself! and though in the beginning she either left it at his approach, or quietly joined in my occupations, and shunned remarking or addressing him-and though he was always as sullen and silent as possible-after a while, she changed her behaviour, and became incapable of letting him alone: talking at him; commenting on his stupidity and idleness; expressing her wonder how he could endure the life he lived-how he could sit a whole evening staring into the fire, and dozing.
"He's just like a dog, is he not, Ellen?" she once observed, "or a cart-horse? He does his work, eats his food, and sleeps eternally! What a blank, dreary mind he must have! Do you ever dream, Hareton? And, if you do, what is it about? But you can't speak to me!"
Then she looked at him; but he would neither open his mouth nor look again.
"He's, perhaps, dreaming now," she continued. "He twitched his shoulder as Juno twitches hers. Ask him, Ellen."
"Mr. Hareton will ask the master to send you upstairs, if you don't behave!" I said. He had not only twitched his shoulder but clenched his fist, as if tempted to use it.
"I know why Hareton never speaks, when I am in the kitchen," she exclaimed, on another occasion. "He is afraid I shall laugh at him. Ellen, what do you think? He began to teach himself to read once; and, because I laughed, he burned his books, and dropped it: was he not a fool?"
"Were not you naughty?" I said; "answer me that."
"Perhaps I was," she went on; "but I did not expect him to be so silly. Hareton, if I gave you a book, would you take it now? I'll try!"
She placed one she had been perusing on his hand; he flung it off, and muttered, if she did not give over, he would break her neck.
"Well, I shall put it here," she said, "in the table-drawer; and I'm going to bed."
Then she whispered me to watch whether he touched it, and departed. But he would not come near it; and so I informed her in the morning, to her great disappointment. I saw she was sorry for his persevering sulkiness and indolence: her conscience reproved her for frightening him off improving himself: she had done it effectually. But her ingenuity was at work to remedy the injury: while I ironed, or pursued other such stationary employments as I could not well do in the parlour, she would bring some pleasant volume and read it aloud to me. When Hareton was there, she generally paused in an interesting part, and left the book lying about: that she did repeatedly; but he was as obstinate as a mule, and, instead of snatching at her bait, in wet weather he took to smoking with Joseph; and they sat like automatons, one on each side of the fire, the elder happily too deaf to understand her wicked nonsense, as he would have called it, the younger doing his best to seem to disregard it. On fine evenings the latter followed his shooting expeditions, and Catherine yawned and sighed, and teased me to talk to her, and ran off into the court or garden the moment I began; and, as a last resource, cried, and said she was tired of living: her life was useless.
Mr. Heathcliff, who grew more and more disinclined to society, had almost banished Earnshaw from his apartment. Owing to an accident at the commencement of March, he became for some days a fixture in the kitchen. His gun burst while out on the hills by himself; a splinter cut his arm, and he lost a good deal of blood before he could reach home. The consequence was that, perforce, he was condemned to the fireside and tranquillity, till he made it up again. It suited Catherine to have him there: at any rate, it made her hate her room upstairs more than ever: and she would compel me to find out business below, that she might accompany me.
On Easter Monday, Joseph went to Gimmerton fair with some cattle; and, in the afternoon, I was busy getting up linen in the kitchen. Earnshaw sat, morose as usual, at the chimney corner, and my little mistress was beguiling an idle hour with drawing pictures on the window-panes, varying her amusement by smothered bursts of songs, and whispered ejaculations, and quick glances of annoyance and impatience in the direction of her cousin, who steadfastly smoked, and looked into the grate. At a notice that I could do with her no longer intercepting my light, she removed to the hearthstone. I bestowed little attention on her proceedings, but, presently, I heard her begin-"I've found out, Hareton, that I want-that I'm glad-that I should like you to be my cousin now, if you had not grown so cross to me, and so rough."
Hareton returned no answer.
"Hareton, Hareton, Hareton! do you hear?" she continued.
"Get off wi' ye!" he growled, with uncompromising gruffness.
"Let me take that pipe," she said, cautiously advancing her hand and abstracting it from his mouth.
Before he could attempt to recover it, it was broken, and behind the fire. He swore at her and seized another.
"Stop," she cried, "you must listen to me first; and I can't speak while those clouds are floating in my face."
"Will you go to the devil!" he exclaimed, ferociously, "and let me be!"
"No," she persisted, "I won't: I can't tell what to do to make you talk to me; and you are determined not to understand. When I call you stupid, I don't mean anything: I don't mean that I despise you. Come, you shall take notice of me, Hareton: you are my cousin, and you shall own me."
"I shall have naught to do wi' you and your mucky pride, and your damned mocking tricks!" he answered. "I'll go to hell, body and soul, before I look sideways after you again. Side out o' t' gate, now, this minute!"
Catherine frowned, and retreated to the window-seat chewing her lip, and endeavouring, by humming an eccentric tune, to conceal a growing tendency to sob.
"You should be friends with your cousin, Mr. Hareton," I interrupted, "since she repents of her sauciness. It would do you a great deal of good: it would make you another man to have her for a companion."
"A companion!" he cried; "when she hates me, and does not think me fit to wipe her shoon! Nay, if it made me a king, I'd not be scorned for seeking her good-will any more."
"It is not I who hate you, it is you who hate me!" wept Cathy, no longer disguising her trouble. "You hate me as much as Mr. Heathcliff does, and more."
"You're a damned liar," began Earnshaw: "why have I made him angry, by taking your part, then, a hundred times? and that when you sneered at and despised me, and-Go on plaguing me, and I'll step in yonder, and say you worried me out of the kitchen!"
"I didn't know you took my part," she answered, drying her eyes; "and I was miserable and bitter at everybody; but now I thank you, and beg you to forgive me: what can I do besides?"
She returned to the hearth, and frankly extended her hand. He blackened and scowled like a thunder-cloud, and kept his fists resolutely clenched, and his gaze fixed on the ground. Catherine, by instinct, must have divined it was obdurate perversity, and not dislike, that prompted this dogged conduct; for, after remaining an instant undecided, she stooped and impressed on his cheek a gentle kiss. The little rogue thought I had not seen her, and, drawing back, she took her former station by the window, quite demurely. I shook my head reprovingly, and then she blushed and whispered-"Well! what should I have done, Ellen? He wouldn't shake hands, and he wouldn't look: I must show him some way that I like him-that I want to be friends."
Whether the kiss convinced Hareton, I cannot tell: he was very careful, for some minutes, that his face should not be seen, and when he did raise it, he was sadly puzzled where to turn his eyes.
Catherine employed herself in wrapping a handsome book neatly in white paper, and having tied it with a bit of ribbon, and addressed it to "Mr. Hareton Earnshaw," she desired me to be her ambassadress, and convey the present to its destined recipient.
"And tell him, if he'll take it, I'll come and teach him to read it right," she said; "and, if he refuse it, I'll go upstairs, and never tease him again."
I carried it, and repeated the message; anxiously watched by my employer. Hareton would not open his fingers, so I laid it on his knee. He did not strike it off, either. I returned to my work. Catherine leaned her head and arms on the table, till she heard the slight rustle of the covering being removed; then she stole away, and quietly seated herself beside her cousin. He trembled, and his face glowed: all his rudeness and all his surly harshness had deserted him: he could not summon courage, at first, to utter a syllable in reply to her questioning look, and her murmured petition.
"Say you forgive me, Hareton, do. You can make me so happy by speaking that little word."
He muttered something inaudible.
"And you'll be my friend?" added Catherine, interrogatively.
"Nay, you'll be ashamed of me every day of your life," he answered; "and the more ashamed, the more you know me; and I cannot bide it."
"So you won't be my friend?" she said, smiling as sweet as honey, and creeping close up.
I overheard no further distinguishable talk, but, on looking round again, I perceived two such radiant countenances bent over the page of the accepted book, that I did not doubt the treaty had been ratified on both sides; and the enemies were, thenceforth, sworn allies.
The work they studied was full of costly pictures; and those and their position had charm enough to keep them unmoved till Joseph came home. He, poor man, was perfectly aghast at the spectacle of Catherine seated on the same bench with Hareton Earnshaw, leaning her hand on his shoulder; and confounded at his favourite's endurance of her proximity: it affected him too deeply to allow an observation on the subject that night. His emotion was only revealed by the immense sighs he drew, as he solemnly spread his large Bible on the table, and overlaid it with dirty bank-notes from his pocket-book, the produce of the day's transactions. At length he summoned Hareton from his seat.
"Tak' these in to t' maister, lad," he said, "and bide there. I's gang up to my own rahm. This hoile's neither mensful nor seemly for us: we mun side out and seearch another."
"Come, Catherine," I said, "we must 'side out' too: I've done my ironing. Are you ready to go?"
"It is not eight o'clock!" she answered, rising unwillingly.
"Hareton, I'll leave this book upon the chimney-piece, and I'll bring some more to-morrow."
"Ony books that yah leave, I shall tak' into th' hahse," said Joseph, "and it'll be mitch if yah find 'em agean; soa, yah may plase yerseln!"
Cathy threatened that his library should pay for hers; and, smiling as she passed Hareton, went singing upstairs: lighter of heart, I venture to say, than ever she had been under that roof before; except, perhaps, during her earliest visits to Linton.
The intimacy thus commenced grew rapidly; though it encountered temporary interruptions. Earnshaw was not to be civilized with a wish, and my young lady was no philosopher, and no paragon of patience; but both their minds tending to the same point-one loving and desiring to esteem, and the other loving and desiring to be esteemed-they contrived in the end to reach it.
You see, Mr. Lockwood, it was easy enough to win Mrs. Heathcliff's heart. But now, I'm glad you did not try. The crown of all my wishes will be the union of those two. I shall envy no one on their wedding day: there won't be a happier woman than myself in England!

1802 - This September I was invited to shoot on the moors of a friend in the north, and on my journey to his home, I unexpectedly came within fifteen miles of Gimmerton.
A sudden impulse seized me to visit Thrushcross Grange. I decided that I might as well pass the night under my own roof as in an inn. Besides, I could spare a day to arrange matters with my landlord, and save myself the trouble of invading the neighbourhood again. I directed my servant to inquire the way to the village; and we managed the distance in some three hours.
I left him there, and went down the valley alone. The grey church looked greyer, and the lonely churchyard lonelier. I noticed a moor-sheep cropping the short turf on the graves. It was sweet, warm weather; in winter nothing more dreary, in summer nothing more divine, than those glens shut in by hills, and those bluff, bold swells of heath.
I reached the Grange before sunset, and knocked for admittance; but the family had retreated into the back, I judged by one thin, blue wreath curling from the kitchen chimney, and they did not hear. I rode into the courtyard. Under the porch sat a girl of nine or ten, and an old woman, smoking a pipe.
'Is Mrs. Dean within?' I demanded.
'Mistress Dean? Nay!' she answered, 'she doesn't live here: she's up at th' Heights.'
'Are you the housekeeper, then?' I continued. 'I'm Mr. Lockwood, the master. Are there any rooms to lodge me in? I wish to stay all night.'
'T' master!' she cried in astonishment. 'Yah should have sent word. There's nowt dry about t' place!'
She bustled in, and I entered too; soon seeing that she spoke the truth. I told her I would go out for a walk; and meantime she must try to prepare a corner of a sitting-room for me to sup in, and a bedroom to sleep in. I proposed to go to Wuthering Heights.
'All well at the Heights?' I inquired of the woman.
'Ee, for owt I know!' she answered, scurrying away.
I would have asked why Mrs. Dean had deserted the Grange, but it was impossible; so I turned away, rambling leisurely along, with the glow of a sinking sun behind, and the mild glory of a rising moon in front. Before I arrived in sight of Mr. Heathcliff's house, all that remained of day was a beamless amber light along the west: but I could see every pebble on the path, and every blade of grass, by that splendid moon.
The gate yielded to my hand. That is an improvement, I thought. And I noticed another; a fragrance of stocks and wallflowers wafted on the air.
Both doors and windows were open; and yet a fire illumined the chimney. But the main room of Wuthering Heights is so large that the inmates have plenty of space for withdrawing from the fire's heat; and they sat not far from one of the windows. I could both see and hear them before I entered, and looked and listened in growing curiosity and envy.
'Con-trary!' said a voice as sweet as a silver bell. 'That for the third time, you dunce! I'm not going to tell you again. Recollect, or I'll pull your hair!'
'Contrary, then,' answered another, in deep but softened tones. 'And now, kiss me, for minding so well.'
'No, first read it without a single mistake.'
The male speaker began to read: he was a young man, respectably dressed and seated at a table, with a book before him. His handsome features glowed with pleasure, and his eyes kept wandering from the page to a small white hand over his shoulder, which recalled him by a smart slap on the cheek. Its owner stood behind; her light ringlets blending with his brown locks, as she bent to superintend his studies; and her face - I bit my lip, at having thrown away the chance I might have had of winning such beauty.
The task was done; the pupil claimed a reward, and received at least five kisses, which he generously returned. Then they talked about going out for a walk on the moors. I supposed I should be condemned by Hareton Earnshaw to the lowest pit of Hell if I showed myself just then; so I skulked round to seek refuge in the kitchen.
There at the door sat my old friend Nelly Dean, sewing and singing a song; which was interrupted from within by harsh words of scorn.
'I'd rather have 'em swearing from morn to neeght!' said Joseph. 'I cannot open t' blessed Book, but yah set up them glories to Satan!'
'Hush, old man,' retorted Mrs. Dean; 'read your Bible, and never mind me.'
She was about to start singing again, when I advanced; and she jumped to her feet, crying, 'Why, bless you, Mr. Lockwood! How could you think of returning in this way? You should have given us notice!'
'I depart again tomorrow,' I answered. 'And why are you here, Mrs. Dean?'
'Zillah left, and Mr. Heathcliff wished me to come. But, step in, pray! Have you walked from Gimmerton this evening?'
'From the Grange,' I replied; 'I want to finish my business with your master.'
'What business, sir?' said Nelly. 'He's gone out at present, and won't return soon.'
'About the rent,' I answered.
'Oh! then it is with Mrs. Heathcliff you must settle,' she observed; 'or rather with me. She has not learnt to manage her affairs yet, and I act for her: there's nobody else.'
I looked surprised.
'Ah! you have not heard of Heathcliff's death, I see,' she continued.
'Heathcliff dead!' I exclaimed, astonished. 'How long ago?'
'Three months since: but sit down, and let me take your hat, and I'll tell you all about it.'
'I never dreamt of his dying! Let me hear how it came to pass. You say you don't expect the young people back for some time?'
'No - they like their late rambles. Have a drink of our old ale; it will do you good.'
She hastened to fetch it. I heard Joseph asking whether it 'weren't a crying shame that she should have fellers at her time of life?' She did not retaliate, but re-entered bearing a foaming silver pint. Then she told me the sequel of Heathcliff's history. He had a 'queer' end, as she expressed it.
Mrs. Dean said: I was summoned to Wuthering Heights within a fortnight of your leaving us, and I obeyed joyfully, for Catherine's sake. I was shocked to see her; she had altered so much. Mr. Heathcliff did not explain why he wanted me; he only said he was tired of seeing Catherine, and that I must make the little parlour my sitting-room, and keep her with me. She seemed pleased at this arrangement; and I smuggled over many books and other articles, thinking that we should get on in tolerable comfort.
This delusion did not last long. Catherine soon grew irritable and restless. For one thing, she was forbidden to move out of the garden, and fretted when confined to its narrow bounds; for another, I was forced to leave her frequently, and she complained of loneliness: she preferred quarrelling with Joseph in the kitchen to sitting in her solitude. I did not mind their skirmishes: but Hareton was often in the kitchen too, when the master wanted to be by himself.
To start with, she left at Hareton's approach, or was quiet - while he was sullen and silent - but then she changed, and would not let him alone: commenting on his stupidity and idleness; and wondering how he could sit a whole evening staring into the fire.
'He's just like a dog, is he not, Ellen?' she once observed, 'or a cart-horse? He does his work, eats his food, and sleeps eternally! What a blank, dreary mind he must have! Do you ever dream, Hareton? And, if you do, what about?'
He would neither speak nor look at her.
'He's dreaming now,' she continued. 'He twitched his shoulder as Juno does.'
He had not only twitched his shoulder but clenched his fist, as if tempted to use it.
'I know why Hareton never speaks, when I am in the kitchen,' she exclaimed. 'He is afraid I shall laugh at him. Ellen, he began to teach himself to read once; and, because I laughed, he burned his books, and stopped: was he not a fool?'
'Were not you naughty?' I said; 'answer me that.'
'Perhaps I was,' she went on; 'but I did not expect him to be so silly. Hareton, if I gave you a book, would you take it now? I'll try!'
She placed one she had been reading on his hand; he flung it off, and muttered that if she did not give over, he would break her neck.
'Well, I shall put it here,' she said. 'I'm going to bed.'
Then she whispered to me to watch whether he touched it, and departed. But he would not come near it; and so I informed her in the morning, to her great disappointment. I saw she was sorry, and ashamed of frightening him off improving himself.
But she set to work to remedy the injury: while I ironed, she would bring some pleasant book and read it aloud to me. She often paused in an interesting part, and left the book lying about: but Hareton was as obstinate as a mule, and, instead of snatching at her bait, he took to smoking with Joseph; and they sat on each side of the fire, the elder too deaf to understand her nonsense, and the younger doing his best to ignore it. On fine evenings Hareton went shooting, and Catherine yawned and sighed, and teased me, and cried, and said she was tired of living: her life was useless.
Mr. Heathcliff, who grew more and more disinclined to society, had almost banished Earnshaw from his apartment. Owing to an accident in early March, Hareton became for some days a fixture in the kitchen. His gun burst while he was out on the hills; a splinter cut his arm, and he lost a good deal of blood before he could reach home. In consequence he was condemned to the fireside, till he recovered. It suited Catherine; at any rate, she spent more time there with me.
On Easter Monday, Joseph went to Gimmerton fair with some cattle; and I was busy sorting linen in the kitchen. Earnshaw sat, morose as usual, at the chimney corner, and my little mistress was idly drawing pictures on the window-panes, with quick glances of impatience in the direction of her cousin, who steadfastly smoked, and looked into the fire. I did not pay her much attention, but presently, I heard her begin:
'I've found out, Hareton, that I want - that I'm glad - that I should like you to be my cousin now, if you had not grown so cross to me, and so rough.'
Hareton returned no answer.
'Hareton, Hareton! do you hear?' she continued.
'Get off wi' ye!' he growled gruffly.
'Let me take that pipe,' she said, 'you must listen to me; and I can't speak while those clouds are floating in my face.'
'Will you go to the devil!' he exclaimed, ferociously, 'and let me be!'
'No,' she persisted, 'I won't: I don't know how to make you talk to me; and you are determined not to understand. When I call you stupid, I don't mean that I despise you. Come, you shall take notice of me, Hareton.'
'I shall have naught to do wi' you and your mucky pride, and your damned mocking tricks!' he answered. 'I'll go to hell, before I look sideways after you again!'
Catherine frowned, and retreated to the window-seat chewing her lip, and trying to conceal a sob.
'You should be friends with your cousin, Mr. Hareton,' I interrupted, 'since she repents of her sauciness. It would do you a great deal of good to have her for a companion.'
'A companion!' he cried; 'when she hates me, and does not think me fit to wipe her shoes! Nay, I'll not be scorned for seeking her good-will any more.'
'It is not I who hate you, it is you who hate me!' wept Cathy, no longer disguising her tears. 'You hate me as much as Mr. Heathcliff does, and more.'
'You're a damned liar,' began Earnshaw: 'why have I made him angry, by taking your part, then, a hundred times? and then you despised me!'
'I didn't know you took my part,' she answered, drying her eyes; 'and I was miserable and bitter at everybody; but now I thank you, and beg you to forgive me. What can I do besides?'
She returned to the hearth, and frankly extended her hand. He scowled like a thunder-cloud, and kept his fists resolutely clenched, and his gaze fixed on the ground. Catherine must have known it was stubbornness, and not dislike, that caused this conduct; for she stooped and gave his cheek a gentle kiss. The little rogue thought I had not seen her; but I shook my head reprovingly, and then she blushed and whispered:
'Well! what should I have done, Ellen? He wouldn't shake hands: I must show him some way that I like him - that I want to be friends.'
Whether the kiss convinced Hareton, I cannot tell: he was very careful, for some minutes, that his face should not be seen, and when he did raise it, he was sadly puzzled where to turn his eyes.
Catherine busied herself in wrapping a handsome book neatly in paper, and having tied it with a bit of ribbon, and addressed it to 'Mr. Hareton Earnshaw,' she asked me to give the present to him.
'And tell him, if he'll take it, I'll come and teach him to read it right,' she said; 'and, if he refuses it, I'll go upstairs, and never tease him again.'
I carried it, and repeated the message; anxiously watched by Catherine. Hareton would not open his fingers, so I laid it on his knee. He did not strike it off, either. Catherine leaned her head and arms on the table, till she heard the slight rustle of the covering being removed; then she quietly seated herself beside her cousin. He trembled, and his face glowed: all his rudeness and surly harshness had deserted him. He could not utter a word, at first, in reply to her murmur.
'Say you forgive me, Hareton, do. You can make me so happy by speaking that little word.'
He muttered something inaudible.
'And you'll be my friend?' asked Catherine.
'Nay, you'll be ashamed of me every day of your life,' he answered; 'and I cannot abide it.'
'So you won't be my friend?' she said, smiling as sweet as honey, and creeping close up.
I overheard no further talk, but, on looking round again, I perceived two such radiant countenances bent over the page of the book, that I did not doubt the enemies were now sworn friends.
When Joseph came home, he was perfectly aghast at the sight of Catherine seated next to Hareton, leaning her hand on his shoulder; and confounded at his favourite's endurance of her closeness. With an immense sigh, he solemnly spread his large Bible on the table, overlaid it with dirty bank-notes from his transactions at the market, and summoned Hareton from his seat.
'Take these in to t' master, lad,' he said, 'and stay there. This room's not seemly for us: we must go and seek another.'
'Come, Catherine,' I said, 'we must go out too: I've done my ironing. Are you ready?'
She rose unwillingly. 'Hareton, I'll leave this book upon the chimney-piece, and I'll bring some more tomorrow.'
'Any books that yah leave, I shall take,' said Joseph.
Cathy threatened that his library should pay for hers; and, smiling as she passed Hareton, went singing upstairs.
The intimacy thus begun grew rapidly. Earnshaw was not to be civilized with a wish, and my young lady was no paragon of patience; but with both their minds tending to the same point - one loving and desiring to esteem, and the other loving and desiring to be esteemed - they contrived in the end to reach it.
You see, Mr. Lockwood, it was easy enough to win Mrs. Heathcliff's heart. But now, I'm glad you did not try. The crown of all my wishes will be the union of those two. I shall envy no one on their wedding day: there won't be a happier woman than myself in England!


Summer was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded his assent to their entreaties, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride to join her cousin. It was a close, sultry day: devoid of sunshine, but with a sky too dappled and hazy to threaten rain: and our place of meeting had been fixed at the guide-stone, by the cross-roads. On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, despatched as a messenger, told us that,-"Maister Linton wer just o' this side th' Heights: and he'd be mitch obleeged to us to gang on a bit further."
"Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle," I observed: "he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are off at once."
"Well, we'll turn our horses' heads round when we reach him," answered my companion; "our excursion shall lie towards home."
But when we reached him, and that was scarcely a quarter of a mile from his own door, we found he had no horse; and we were forced to dismount, and leave ours to graze. He lay on the heath, awaiting our approach, and did not rise till we came within a few yards. Then he walked so feebly, and looked so pale, that I immediately exclaimed,-"Why, Master Heathcliff, you are not fit for enjoying a ramble this morning. How ill you do look!"
Catherine surveyed him with grief and astonishment: she changed the ejaculation of joy on her lips to one of alarm; and the congratulation on their long-postponed meeting to an anxious inquiry, whether he were worse than usual?
"No-better-better!" he panted, trembling, and retaining her hand as if he needed its support, while his large blue eyes wandered timidly over her; the hollowness round them transforming to haggard wildness the languid expression they once possessed.
"But you have been worse," persisted his cousin; "worse than when I saw you last; you are thinner, and-"
"I'm tired," he interrupted, hurriedly. "It is too hot for walking, let us rest here. And, in the morning, I often feel sick-papa says I grow so fast."
Badly satisfied, Cathy sat down, and he reclined beside her.
"This is something like your paradise," said she, making an effort at cheerfulness. "You recollect the two days we agreed to spend in the place and way each thought pleasantest? This is nearly yours, only there are clouds; but then they are so soft and mellow: it is nicer than sunshine. Next week, if you can, we'll ride down to the Grange Park, and try mine."
Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of and he had evidently great difficulty in sustaining any kind of conversation. His lack of interest in the subjects she started, and his equal incapacity to contribute to her entertainment, were so obvious that she could not conceal her disappointment. An indefinite alteration had come over his whole person and manner. The pettishness that might be caressed into fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy; there was less of the peevish temper of a child which frets and teases on purpose to be soothed, and more of the self-absorbed moroseness of a confirmed invalid, repelling consolation, and ready to regard the good-humoured mirth of others as an insult. Catherine perceived, as well as I did, that he held it rather a punishment, than a gratification, to endure our company; and she made no scruple of proposing, presently, to depart. That proposal, unexpectedly, roused Linton from his lethargy, and threw him into a strange state of agitation. He glanced fearfully towards the Heights, begging she would remain another half-hour, at least.
"But I think," said Cathy, "you'd be more comfortable at home than sitting here; and I cannot amuse you to-day, I see, by my tales, and songs, and chatter: you have grown wiser than I, in these six months; you have little taste for my diversions now: or else, if I could amuse you, I'd willingly stay."
"Stay to rest yourself," he replied. "And, Catherine, don't think or say that I'm _very_ unwell: it is the heavy weather and heat that make me dull; and I walked about, before you came, a great deal for me. Tell uncle I'm in tolerable health, will you?"
"I'll tell him that _you_ say so, Linton. I couldn't affirm that you are," observed my young lady, wondering at his pertinacious assertion of what was evidently an untruth.
"And be here again next Thursday," continued he, shunning her puzzled gaze. "And give him my thanks for permitting you to come-my best thanks, Catherine. And-and, if you _did_ meet my father, and he asked you about me, don't lead him to suppose that I've been extremely silent and stupid: don't look sad and downcast, as you are doing-he'll be angry."
"I care nothing for his anger," exclaimed Cathy, imagining she would be its object.
"But I do," said her cousin, shuddering. "_Don't_ provoke him against me, Catherine, for he is very hard."
"Is he severe to you, Master Heathcliff?" I inquired. "Has he grown weary of indulgence, and passed from passive to active hatred?"
Linton looked at me, but did not answer; and, after keeping her seat by his side another ten minutes, during which his head fell drowsily on his breast, and he uttered nothing except suppressed moans of exhaustion or pain, Cathy began to seek solace in looking for bilberries, and sharing the produce of her researches with me: she did not offer them to him, for she saw further notice would only weary and annoy.
"Is it half-an-hour now, Ellen?" she whispered in my ear, at last. "I can't tell why we should stay. He's asleep, and papa will be wanting us back."
"Well, we must not leave him asleep," I answered; "wait till he wakes, and be patient. You were mighty eager to set off, but your longing to see poor Linton has soon evaporated!"
"Why did _he_ wish to see me?" returned Catherine. "In his crossest humours, formerly, I liked him better than I do in his present curious mood. It's just as if it were a task he was compelled to perform-this interview-for fear his father should scold him. But I'm hardly going to come to give Mr. Heathcliff pleasure; whatever reason he may have for ordering Linton to undergo this penance. And, though I'm glad he's better in health, I'm sorry he's so much less pleasant, and so much less affectionate to me."
"You think _he is_ better in health, then?" I said.
"Yes," she answered; "because he always made such a great deal of his sufferings, you know. He is not tolerably well, as he told me to tell papa; but he's better, very likely."
"There you differ with me, Miss Cathy," I remarked; "I should conjecture him to be far worse."
Linton here started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and asked if any one had called his name.
"No," said Catherine; "unless in dreams. I cannot conceive how you manage to doze out of doors, in the morning."
"I thought I heard my father," he gasped, glancing up to the frowning nab above us. "You are sure nobody spoke?"
"Quite sure," replied his cousin. "Only Ellen and I were disputing concerning your health. Are you truly stronger, Linton, than when we separated in winter? If you be, I'm certain one thing is not stronger-your regard for me: speak,-are you?"
The tears gushed from Linton's eyes as he answered, "Yes, yes, I am!" And, still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze wandered up and down to detect its owner.
Cathy rose. "For to-day we must part," she said. "And I won't conceal that I have been sadly disappointed with our meeting; though I'll mention it to nobody but you: not that I stand in awe of Mr. Heathcliff."
"Hush," murmured Linton; "for God's sake, hush! He's coming." And he clung to Catherine's arm, striving to detain her; but at that announcement she hastily disengaged herself, and whistled to Minny, who obeyed her like a dog.
"I'll be here next Thursday," she cried, springing to the saddle. "Good-bye. Quick, Ellen!"
And so we left him, scarcely conscious of our departure, so absorbed was he in anticipating his father's approach.
Before we reached home, Catherine's displeasure softened into a perplexed sensation of pity and regret, largely blended with vague, uneasy doubts about Linton's actual circumstances, physical and social: in which I partook, though I counselled her not to say much; for a second journey would make us better judges. My master requested an account of our ongoings. His nephew's offering of thanks was duly delivered, Miss Cathy gently touching on the rest: I also threw little light on his inquiries, for I hardly knew what to hide and what to reveal.

Summer was already past its prime, when Edgar yielded, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride to join her cousin. It was a day devoid of sunshine, but too hazy to threaten rain. Our place of meeting had been fixed by the cross-roads. On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, sent as a messenger, told us: 'Master Linton were just this side of th' Heights: and we must go on a bit further.'
When we reached him, he was scarcely a quarter of a mile from his own door. He lay on the heath, and did not rise till we came within a few yards of him. Then he walked so feebly, and looked so pale, that I immediately exclaimed, 'Why, Master Heathcliff, how ill you do look!'
Catherine surveyed him with grief and astonishment; anxiously she inquired whether he were worse than usual?
'No - better - better!' he panted, trembling, and holding her hand as if he needed its support, while his large blue eyes wandered over her with a expression of haggard wildness.
'But you have been worse since I saw you last,' persisted Cathy; 'you are thinner, and-'
'I'm tired,' he interrupted, hurriedly. 'It is too hot for walking; let us rest here. In the morning, I often feel sick - papa says I grow so fast.'
Dissatisfied, Cathy sat down beside him.
'This is something like your paradise,' said she, making an effort at cheerfulness; 'only there are clouds; but they are so soft and mellow, it is nicer than sunshine. Next week, if you can, we'll ride down to the Grange Park, and try my paradise.'
Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of. He had great difficulty in holding any kind of conversation. His lack of interest was so obvious that Cathy could not conceal her disappointment. His pettishness had yielded to a listless apathy; the self-absorbed moroseness of a confirmed invalid.
Catherine saw that he endured, rather than enjoyed, our company; and she soon proposed to depart. That proposal unexpectedly roused Linton from his lethargy, and threw him into a strange state of agitation. He glanced fearfully towards the Heights, begging she would remain another half-hour, at least.
'But I think,' said Cathy, 'you'd be more comfortable at home than sitting here. If I could amuse you, I'd willingly stay.'
'Stay to rest,' he replied. 'It is the heat that make me dull; and I walked about a great deal before you came. Tell uncle I'm in good health, will you?'
'I'll tell him that you say so, Linton. I couldn't affirm that you are,' observed my young lady.
'And be here again next Thursday,' continued he. 'And thank him for permitting you to come. And - and, if you did meet my father, and he asked you about me, don't tell him I've been silent and stupid - he'll be angry.'
'I care nothing for his anger,' exclaimed Cathy.
'But I do,' said her cousin, shuddering. 'Don't provoke him against me, Catherine, for he is very hard.'
'Is he severe to you, Master Heathcliff?' I inquired.
Linton looked at me, but did not answer. After sitting by his side another ten minutes, while his head fell drowsily on his breast, and he uttered nothing except suppressed moans, Cathy began to look for bilberries, and share them with me: she did not offer them to him.
'Is it half-an-hour now, Ellen?' she whispered. 'He's asleep, and papa will be wanting us back.'
'Wait till he wakes,' I answered. 'You were mighty eager to come, but your longing to see poor Linton has soon evaporated!'
'Why did he wish to see me?' returned Catherine. 'He's in such a strange mood. It's as if this meeting were a task he was compelled to perform for fear his father should scold him. Though I'm glad he's better in health, I'm sorry he's so much less pleasant, and less affectionate to me.'
'You think he is better in health, then?' I said.
'Yes,' she answered; 'because he always made such a great deal of his sufferings. He is not completely well, but he's better, very likely.'
'There you differ with me, Miss Cathy,' I remarked; 'I should say he is far worse.'
Linton started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and asked if anyone had called his name.
'I thought I heard my father,' he gasped, glancing around. 'You are sure nobody spoke?'
'Quite sure,' replied his cousin. 'Are you truly stronger, Linton, than last winter?'
The tears gushed from Linton's eyes as he answered, 'Yes, yes, I am!' Still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze wandered up and down to detect its owner.
Cathy rose. 'For today we must part,' she said. 'And I won't conceal that I have been sadly disappointed with our meeting; though I'll mention it to nobody: not that I stand in awe of Mr. Heathcliff.'
'Hush,' murmured Linton; 'for God's sake, hush! He's coming.' And he clung to Catherine's arm; but she hastily freed herself, and whistled to her pony.
'I'll be here next Thursday,' she cried, springing to the saddle. 'Good-bye. Quick, Ellen!' And so we left him.
Before we reached home, Catherine's displeasure softened into a perplexed pity, blended with vague, uneasy doubts about Linton. I shared her doubts, though I counselled her not to say much; for we should judge his state better after a second journey.
My master requested an account of our trip. His nephew's thanks were duly delivered, but we said little else; for I hardly knew what to hide and what to reveal.