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A charming introduction to a hermit's life! Four weeks' torture, tossing, and sickness! Oh, these bleak winds and bitter northern skies, and impassable roads, and dilatory country surgeons! And oh, this dearth of the human physiognomy! and, worse than all, the terrible intimation of Kenneth that I need not expect to be out of doors till spring! Mr. Heathcliff has just honoured me with a call. About seven days ago he sent me a brace of grouse-the last of the season. Scoundrel! He is not altogether guiltless in this illness of mine; and that I had a great mind to tell him. But, alas! how could I offend a man who was charitable enough to sit at my bedside a good hour, and talk on some other subject than pills and draughts, blisters and leeches? This is quite an easy interval. I am too weak to read; yet I feel as if I could enjoy something interesting. Why not have up Mrs. Dean to finish her tale? I can recollect its chief incidents, as far as she had gone. Yes: I remember her hero had run off, and never been heard of for three years; and the heroine was married. I'll ring: she'll be delighted to find me capable of talking cheerfully. Mrs. Dean came. "It wants twenty minutes, sir, to taking the medicine," she commenced. "Away, away with it!" I replied; "I desire to have-" "The doctor says you must drop the powders." "With all my heart! Don't interrupt me. Come and take your seat here. Keep your fingers from that bitter phalanx of vials. Draw your knitting out of your pocket-that will do-now continue the history of Mr. Heathcliff, from where you left off, to the present day. Did he finish his education on the Continent, and come back a gentleman? or did he get a sizar's place at college, or escape to America, and earn honours by drawing blood from his foster-country? or make a fortune more promptly on the English highways?" "He may have done a little in all these vocations, Mr. Lockwood; but I couldn't give my word for any. I stated before that I didn't know how he gained his money; neither am I aware of the means he took to raise his mind from the savage ignorance into which it was sunk: but, with your leave, I'll proceed in my own fashion, if you think it will amuse and not weary you. Are you feeling better this morning?" "Much." "That's good news." * * * * * I got Miss Catherine and myself to Thrushcross Grange; and, to my agreeable disappointment, she behaved infinitely better than I dared to expect. She seemed almost over-fond of Mr. Linton; and even to his sister she showed plenty of affection. They were both very attentive to her comfort, certainly. It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. There were no mutual concessions: one stood erect, and the others yielded: and who can be ill-natured and bad-tempered when they encounter neither opposition nor indifference? I observed that Mr. Edgar had a deep-rooted fear of ruffling her humour. He concealed it from her; but if ever he heard me answer sharply, or saw any other servant grow cloudy at some imperious order of hers, he would show his trouble by a frown of displeasure that never darkened on his own account. He many a time spoke sternly to me about my pertness; and averred that the stab of a knife could not inflict a worse pang than he suffered at seeing his lady vexed. Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be less touchy; and, for the space of half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it. Catherine had seasons of gloom and silence now and then: they were respected with sympathising silence by her husband, who ascribed them to an alteration in her constitution, produced by her perilous illness; as she was never subject to depression of spirits before. The return of sunshine was welcomed by answering sunshine from him. I believe I may assert that they were really in possession of deep and growing happiness. It ended. Well, we _must_ be for ourselves in the long run; the mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering; and it ended when circumstances caused each to feel that the one's interest was not the chief consideration in the other's thoughts. On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a heavy basket of apples which I had been gathering. It had got dusk, and the moon looked over the high wall of the court, causing undefined shadows to lurk in the corners of the numerous projecting portions of the building. I set my burden on the house-steps by the kitchen-door, and lingered to rest, and drew in a few more breaths of the soft, sweet air; my eyes were on the moon, and my back to the entrance, when I heard a voice behind me say,-"Nelly, is that you?" It was a deep voice, and foreign in tone; yet there was something in the manner of pronouncing my name which made it sound familiar. I turned about to discover who spoke, fearfully; for the doors were shut, and I had seen nobody on approaching the steps. Something stirred in the porch; and, moving nearer, I distinguished a tall man dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair. He leant against the side, and held his fingers on the latch as if intending to open for himself. "Who can it be?" I thought. "Mr. Earnshaw? Oh, no! The voice has no resemblance to his." "I have waited here an hour," he resumed, while I continued staring; "and the whole of that time all round has been as still as death. I dared not enter. You do not know me? Look, I'm not a stranger!" A ray fell on his features; the cheeks were sallow, and half covered with black whiskers; the brows lowering, the eyes deep-set and singular. I remembered the eyes. "What!" I cried, uncertain whether to regard him as a worldly visitor, and I raised my hands in amazement. "What! you come back? Is it really you? Is it?" "Yes, Heathcliff," he replied, glancing from me up to the windows, which reflected a score of glittering moons, but showed no lights from within. "Are they at home? where is she? Nelly, you are not glad! you needn't be so disturbed. Is she here? Speak! I want to have one word with her-your mistress. Go, and say some person from Gimmerton desires to see her." "How will she take it?" I exclaimed. "What will she do? The surprise bewilders me-it will put her out of her head! And you _are_ Heathcliff! But altered! Nay, there's no comprehending it. Have you been for a soldier?" "Go and carry my message," he interrupted, impatiently. "I'm in hell till you do!" He lifted the latch, and I entered; but when I got to the parlour where Mr. and Mrs. Linton were, I could not persuade myself to proceed. At length I resolved on making an excuse to ask if they would have the candles lighted, and I opened the door. They sat together in a window whose lattice lay back against the wall, and displayed, beyond the garden trees, and the wild green park, the valley of Gimmerton, with a long line of mist winding nearly to its top (for very soon after you pass the chapel, as you may have noticed, the sough that runs from the marshes joins a beck which follows the bend of the glen). Wuthering Heights rose above this silvery vapour; but our old house was invisible; it rather dips down on the other side. Both the room and its occupants, and the scene they gazed on, looked wondrously peaceful. I shrank reluctantly from performing my errand; and was actually going away leaving it unsaid, after having put my question about the candles, when a sense of my folly compelled me to return, and mutter, "A person from Gimmerton wishes to see you ma'am." "What does he want?" asked Mrs. Linton. "I did not question him," I answered. "Well, close the curtains, Nelly," she said; "and bring up tea. I'll be back again directly." She quitted the apartment; Mr. Edgar inquired, carelessly, who it was. "Some one mistress does not expect," I replied. "That Heathcliff-you recollect him, sir-who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw's." "What! the gipsy-the ploughboy?" he cried. "Why did you not say so to Catherine?" "Hush! you must not call him by those names, master," I said. "She'd be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off. I guess his return will make a jubilee to her." Mr. Linton walked to a window on the other side of the room that overlooked the court. He unfastened it, and leant out. I suppose they were below, for he exclaimed quickly: "Don't stand there, love! Bring the person in, if it be anyone particular." Ere long, I heard the click of the latch, and Catherine flew upstairs, breathless and wild; too excited to show gladness: indeed, by her face, you would rather have surmised an awful calamity. "Oh, Edgar, Edgar!" she panted, flinging her arms round his neck. "Oh, Edgar darling! Heathcliff's come back-he is!" And she tightened her embrace to a squeeze. "Well, well," cried her husband, crossly, "don't strangle me for that! He never struck me as such a marvellous treasure. There is no need to be frantic!" "I know you didn't like him," she answered, repressing a little the intensity of her delight. "Yet, for my sake, you must be friends now. Shall I tell him to come up?" "Here," he said, "into the parlour?" "Where else?" she asked. He looked vexed, and suggested the kitchen as a more suitable place for him. Mrs. Linton eyed him with a droll expression-half angry, half laughing at his fastidiousness. "No," she added, after a while; "I cannot sit in the kitchen. Set two tables here, Ellen: one for your master and Miss Isabella, being gentry; the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders. Will that please you, dear? Or must I have a fire lighted elsewhere? If so, give directions. I'll run down and secure my guest. I'm afraid the joy is too great to be real!" She was about to dart off again; but Edgar arrested her. "_You_ bid him step up," he said, addressing me; "and, Catherine, try to be glad, without being absurd. The whole household need not witness the sight of your welcoming a runaway servant as a brother." I descended, and found Heathcliff waiting under the porch, evidently anticipating an invitation to enter. He followed my guidance without waste of words, and I ushered him into the presence of the master and mistress, whose flushed cheeks betrayed signs of warm talking. But the lady's glowed with another feeling when her friend appeared at the door: she sprang forward, took both his hands, and led him to Linton; and then she seized Linton's reluctant fingers and crushed them into his. Now, fully revealed by the fire and candlelight, I was amazed, more than ever, to behold the transformation of Heathcliff. He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside whom my master seemed quite slender and youth-like. His upright carriage suggested the idea of his having been in the army. His countenance was much older in expression and decision of feature than Mr. Linton's; it looked intelligent, and retained no marks of former degradation. A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified: quite divested of roughness, though stern for grace. My master's surprise equalled or exceeded mine: he remained for a minute at a loss how to address the ploughboy, as he had called him. Heathcliff dropped his slight hand, and stood looking at him coolly till he chose to speak. "Sit down, sir," he said, at length. "Mrs. Linton, recalling old times, would have me give you a cordial reception; and, of course, I am gratified when anything occurs to please her." "And I also," answered Heathcliff, "especially if it be anything in which I have a part. I shall stay an hour or two willingly." He took a seat opposite Catherine, who kept her gaze fixed on him as if she feared he would vanish were she to remove it. He did not raise his to her often: a quick glance now and then sufficed; but it flashed back, each time more confidently, the undisguised delight he drank from hers. They were too much absorbed in their mutual joy to suffer embarrassment. Not so Mr. Edgar: he grew pale with pure annoyance: a feeling that reached its climax when his lady rose, and stepping across the rug, seized Heathcliff's hands again, and laughed like one beside herself. "I shall think it a dream to-morrow!" she cried. "I shall not be able to believe that I have seen, and touched, and spoken to you once more. And yet, cruel Heathcliff! you don't deserve this welcome. To be absent and silent for three years, and never to think of me!" "A little more than you have thought of me," he murmured. "I heard of your marriage, Cathy, not long since; and, while waiting in the yard below, I meditated this plan-just to have one glimpse of your face, a stare of surprise, perhaps, and pretended pleasure; afterwards settle my score with Hindley; and then prevent the law by doing execution on myself. Your welcome has put these ideas out of my mind; but beware of meeting me with another aspect next time! Nay, you'll not drive me off again. You were really sorry for me, were you? Well, there was cause. I've fought through a bitter life since I last heard your voice; and you must forgive me, for I struggled only for you!" "Catherine, unless we are to have cold tea, please to come to the table," interrupted Linton, striving to preserve his ordinary tone, and a due measure of politeness. "Mr. Heathcliff will have a long walk, wherever he may lodge to-night; and I'm thirsty." She took her post before the urn; and Miss Isabella came, summoned by the bell; then, having handed their chairs forward, I left the room. The meal hardly endured ten minutes. Catherine's cup was never filled: she could neither eat nor drink. Edgar had made a slop in his saucer, and scarcely swallowed a mouthful. Their guest did not protract his stay that evening above an hour longer. I asked, as he departed, if he went to Gimmerton? "No, to Wuthering Heights," he answered: "Mr. Earnshaw invited me, when I called this morning." Mr. Earnshaw invited _him_! and _he_ called on Mr. Earnshaw! I pondered this sentence painfully, after he was gone. Is he turning out a bit of a hypocrite, and coming into the country to work mischief under a cloak? I mused: I had a presentiment in the bottom of my heart that he had better have remained away. About the middle of the night, I was wakened from my first nap by Mrs. Linton gliding into my chamber, taking a seat on my bedside, and pulling me by the hair to rouse me. "I cannot rest, Ellen," she said, by way of apology. "And I want some living creature to keep me company in my happiness! Edgar is sulky, because I'm glad of a thing that does not interest him: he refuses to open his mouth, except to utter pettish, silly speeches; and he affirmed I was cruel and selfish for wishing to talk when he was so sick and sleepy. He always contrives to be sick at the least cross! I gave a few sentences of commendation to Heathcliff, and he, either for a headache or a pang of envy, began to cry: so I got up and left him." "What use is it praising Heathcliff to him?" I answered. "As lads they had an aversion to each other, and Heathcliff would hate just as much to hear him praised: it's human nature. Let Mr. Linton alone about him, unless you would like an open quarrel between them." "But does it not show great weakness?" pursued she. "I'm not envious: I never feel hurt at the brightness of Isabella's yellow hair and the whiteness of her skin, at her dainty elegance, and the fondness all the family exhibit for her. Even you, Nelly, if we have a dispute sometimes, you back Isabella at once; and I yield like a foolish mother: I call her a darling, and flatter her into a good temper. It pleases her brother to see us cordial, and that pleases me. But they are very much alike: they are spoiled children, and fancy the world was made for their accommodation; and though I humour both, I think a smart chastisement might improve them all the same." "You're mistaken, Mrs. Linton," said I. "They humour you: I know what there would be to do if they did not. You can well afford to indulge their passing whims as long as their business is to anticipate all your desires. You may, however, fall out, at last, over something of equal consequence to both sides; and then those you term weak are very capable of being as obstinate as you." "And then we shall fight to the death, sha'n't we, Nelly?" she returned, laughing. "No! I tell you, I have such faith in Linton's love, that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn't wish to retaliate." I advised her to value him the more for his affection. "I do," she answered, "but he needn't resort to whining for trifles. It is childish and, instead of melting into tears because I said that Heathcliff was now worthy of anyone's regard, and it would honour the first gentleman in the country to be his friend, he ought to have said it for me, and been delighted from sympathy. He must get accustomed to him, and he may as well like him: considering how Heathcliff has reason to object to him, I'm sure he behaved excellently!" "What do you think of his going to Wuthering Heights?" I inquired. "He is reformed in every respect, apparently: quite a Christian: offering the right hand of fellowship to his enemies all around!" "He explained it," she replied. "I wonder as much as you. He said he called to gather information concerning me from you, supposing you resided there still; and Joseph told Hindley, who came out and fell to questioning him of what he had been doing, and how he had been living; and finally, desired him to walk in. There were some persons sitting at cards; Heathcliff joined them; my brother lost some money to him, and, finding him plentifully supplied, he requested that he would come again in the evening: to which he consented. Hindley is too reckless to select his acquaintance prudently: he doesn't trouble himself to reflect on the causes he might have for mistrusting one whom he has basely injured. But Heathcliff affirms his principal reason for resuming a connection with his ancient persecutor is a wish to install himself in quarters at walking distance from the Grange, and an attachment to the house where we lived together; and likewise a hope that I shall have more opportunities of seeing him there than I could have if he settled in Gimmerton. He means to offer liberal payment for permission to lodge at the Heights; and doubtless my brother's covetousness will prompt him to accept the terms: he was always greedy; though what he grasps with one hand he flings away with the other." "It's a nice place for a young man to fix his dwelling in!" said I. "Have you no fear of the consequences, Mrs. Linton?" "None for my friend," she replied: "his strong head will keep him from danger; a little for Hindley: but he can't be made morally worse than he is; and I stand between him and bodily harm. The event of this evening has reconciled me to God and humanity! I had risen in angry rebellion against Providence. Oh, I've endured very, very bitter misery, Nelly! If that creature knew how bitter, he'd be ashamed to cloud its removal with idle petulance. It was kindness for him which induced me to bear it alone: had I expressed the agony I frequently felt, he would have been taught to long for its alleviation as ardently as I. However, it's over, and I'll take no revenge on his folly; I can afford to suffer anything hereafter! Should the meanest thing alive slap me on the cheek, I'd not only turn the other, but I'd ask pardon for provoking it; and, as a proof, I'll go make my peace with Edgar instantly. Good-night! I'm an angel!" In this self-complacent conviction she departed; and the success of her fulfilled resolution was obvious on the morrow: Mr. Linton had not only abjured his peevishness (though his spirits seemed still subdued by Catherine's exuberance of vivacity), but he ventured no objection to her taking Isabella with her to Wuthering Heights in the afternoon; and she rewarded him with such a summer of sweetness and affection in return as made the house a paradise for several days; both master and servants profiting from the perpetual sunshine. Heathcliff-Mr. Heathcliff I should say in future-used the liberty of visiting at Thrushcross Grange cautiously, at first: he seemed estimating how far its owner would bear his intrusion. Catherine, also, deemed it judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving him; and he gradually established his right to be expected. He retained a great deal of the reserve for which his boyhood was remarkable; and that served to repress all startling demonstrations of feeling. My master's uneasiness experienced a lull, and further circumstances diverted it into another channel for a space. His new source of trouble sprang from the not anticipated misfortune of Isabella Linton evincing a sudden and irresistible attraction towards the tolerated guest. She was at that time a charming young lady of eighteen; infantile in manners, though possessed of keen wit, keen feelings, and a keen temper, too, if irritated. Her brother, who loved her tenderly, was appalled at this fantastic preference. Leaving aside the degradation of an alliance with a nameless man, and the possible fact that his property, in default of heirs male, might pass into such a one's power, he had sense to comprehend Heathcliff's disposition: to know that, though his exterior was altered, his mind was unchangeable and unchanged. And he dreaded that mind: it revolted him: he shrank forebodingly from the idea of committing Isabella to its keeping. He would have recoiled still more had he been aware that her attachment rose unsolicited, and was bestowed where it awakened no reciprocation of sentiment; for the minute he discovered its existence he laid the blame on Heathcliff's deliberate designing. We had all remarked, during some time, that Miss Linton fretted and pined over something. She grew cross and wearisome; snapping at and teasing Catherine continually, at the imminent risk of exhausting her limited patience. We excused her, to a certain extent, on the plea of ill-health: she was dwindling and fading before our eyes. But one day, when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast, complaining that the servants did not do what she told them; that the mistress would allow her to be nothing in the house, and Edgar neglected her; that she had caught a cold with the doors being left open, and we let the parlour fire go out on purpose to vex her, with a hundred yet more frivolous accusations, Mrs. Linton peremptorily insisted that she should get to bed; and, having scolded her heartily, threatened to send for the doctor. Mention of Kenneth caused her to exclaim, instantly, that her health was perfect, and it was only Catherine's harshness which made her unhappy. "How can you say I am harsh, you naughty fondling?" cried the mistress, amazed at the unreasonable assertion. "You are surely losing your reason. When have I been harsh, tell me?" "Yesterday," sobbed Isabella, "and now!" "Yesterday!" said her sister-in-law. "On what occasion?" "In our walk along the moor: you told me to ramble where I pleased, while you sauntered on with Mr. Heathcliff!" "And that's your notion of harshness?" said Catherine, laughing. "It was no hint that your company was superfluous: we didn't care whether you kept with us or not; I merely thought Heathcliff's talk would have nothing entertaining for your ears." "Oh, no," wept the young lady; "you wished me away, because you knew I liked to be there!" "Is she sane?" asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. "I'll repeat our conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out any charm it could have had for you." "I don't mind the conversation," she answered: "I wanted to be with-" "Well?" said Catherine, perceiving her hesitate to complete the sentence. "With him: and I won't be always sent off!" she continued, kindling up. "You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to be loved but yourself!" "You are an impertinent little monkey!" exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in surprise. "But I'll not believe this idiocy! It is impossible that you can covet the admiration of Heathcliff-that you consider him an agreeable person! I hope I have misunderstood you, Isabella?" "No, you have not," said the infatuated girl. "I love him more than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let him!" "I wouldn't be you for a kingdom, then!" Catherine declared, emphatically: and she seemed to speak sincerely. "Nelly, help me to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: an unreclaimed creature, without refinement, without cultivation; an arid wilderness of furze and whinstone. I'd as soon put that little canary into the park on a winter's day, as recommend you to bestow your heart on him! It is deplorable ignorance of his character, child, and nothing else, which makes that dream enter your head. Pray, don't imagine that he conceals depths of benevolence and affection beneath a stern exterior! He's not a rough diamond-a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic: he's a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. I never say to him, 'Let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them;' I say, 'Let them alone, because _I_ should hate them to be wronged:' and he'd crush you like a sparrow's egg, Isabella, if he found you a troublesome charge. I know he couldn't love a Linton; and yet he'd be quite capable of marrying your fortune and expectations: avarice is growing with him a besetting sin. There's my picture: and I'm his friend-so much so, that had he thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps, have held my tongue, and let you fall into his trap." Miss Linton regarded her sister-in-law with indignation. "For shame! for shame!" she repeated, angrily. "You are worse than twenty foes, you poisonous friend!" "Ah! you won't believe me, then?" said Catherine. "You think I speak from wicked selfishness?" "I'm certain you do," retorted Isabella; "and I shudder at you!" "Good!" cried the other. "Try for yourself, if that be your spirit: I have done, and yield the argument to your saucy insolence."- "And I must suffer for her egotism!" she sobbed, as Mrs. Linton left the room. "All, all is against me: she has blighted my single consolation. But she uttered falsehoods, didn't she? Mr. Heathcliff is not a fiend: he has an honourable soul, and a true one, or how could he remember her?" "Banish him from your thoughts, Miss," I said. "He's a bird of bad omen: no mate for you. Mrs. Linton spoke strongly, and yet I can't contradict her. She is better acquainted with his heart than I, or any one besides; and she never would represent him as worse than he is. Honest people don't hide their deeds. How has he been living? how has he got rich? why is he staying at Wuthering Heights, the house of a man whom he abhors? They say Mr. Earnshaw is worse and worse since he came. They sit up all night together continually, and Hindley has been borrowing money on his land, and does nothing but play and drink: I heard only a week ago-it was Joseph who told me-I met him at Gimmerton: 'Nelly,' he said, 'we's hae a crowner's 'quest enow, at ahr folks'. One on 'em 's a'most getten his finger cut off wi' hauding t' other fro' stickin' hisseln loike a cawlf. That's maister, yeah knaw, 'at 's soa up o' going tuh t' grand 'sizes. He's noan feared o' t' bench o' judges, norther Paul, nur Peter, nur John, nur Matthew, nor noan on 'em, not he! He fair likes-he langs to set his brazened face agean 'em! And yon bonny lad Heathcliff, yah mind, he's a rare 'un. He can girn a laugh as well 's onybody at a raight divil's jest. Does he niver say nowt of his fine living amang us, when he goes to t' Grange? This is t' way on 't:-up at sun-down: dice, brandy, cloised shutters, und can'le-light till next day at noon: then, t'fooil gangs banning und raving to his cham'er, makking dacent fowks dig thur fingers i' thur lugs fur varry shame; un' the knave, why he can caint his brass, un' ate, un' sleep, un' off to his neighbour's to gossip wi' t' wife. I' course, he tells Dame Catherine how her fathur's goold runs into his pocket, and her fathur's son gallops down t' broad road, while he flees afore to oppen t' pikes!' Now, Miss Linton, Joseph is an old rascal, but no liar; and, if his account of Heathcliff's conduct be true, you would never think of desiring such a husband, would you?" "You are leagued with the rest, Ellen!" she replied. "I'll not listen to your slanders. What malevolence you must have to wish to convince me that there is no happiness in the world!" Whether she would have got over this fancy if left to herself, or persevered in nursing it perpetually, I cannot say: she had little time to reflect. The day after, there was a justice-meeting at the next town; my master was obliged to attend; and Mr. Heathcliff, aware of his absence, called rather earlier than usual. Catherine and Isabella were sitting in the library, on hostile terms, but silent: the latter alarmed at her recent indiscretion, and the disclosure she had made of her secret feelings in a transient fit of passion; the former, on mature consideration, really offended with her companion; and, if she laughed again at her pertness, inclined to make it no laughing matter to her. She did laugh as she saw Heathcliff pass the window. I was sweeping the hearth, and I noticed a mischievous smile on her lips. Isabella, absorbed in her meditations, or a book, remained till the door opened; and it was too late to attempt an escape, which she would gladly have done had it been practicable. "Come in, that's right!" exclaimed the mistress, gaily, pulling a chair to the fire. "Here are two people sadly in need of a third to thaw the ice between them; and you are the very one we should both of us choose. Heathcliff, I'm proud to show you, at last, somebody that dotes on you more than myself. I expect you to feel flattered. Nay, it's not Nelly; don't look at her! My poor little sister-in-law is breaking her heart by mere contemplation of your physical and moral beauty. It lies in your own power to be Edgar's brother! No, no, Isabella, you sha'n't run off," she continued, arresting, with feigned playfulness, the confounded girl, who had risen indignantly. "We were quarrelling like cats about you, Heathcliff; and I was fairly beaten in protestations of devotion and admiration: and, moreover, I was informed that if I would but have the manners to stand aside, my rival, as she will have herself to be, would shoot a shaft into your soul that would fix you for ever, and send my image into eternal oblivion!" "Catherine!" said Isabella, calling up her dignity, and disdaining to struggle from the tight grasp that held her, "I'd thank you to adhere to the truth and not slander me, even in joke! Mr. Heathcliff, be kind enough to bid this friend of yours release me: she forgets that you and I are not intimate acquaintances; and what amuses her is painful to me beyond expression." As the guest answered nothing, but took his seat, and looked thoroughly indifferent what sentiments she cherished concerning him, she turned and whispered an earnest appeal for liberty to her tormentor. "By no means!" cried Mrs. Linton in answer. "I won't be named a dog in the manger again. You _shall_ stay: now then! Heathcliff, why don't you evince satisfaction at my pleasant news? Isabella swears that the love Edgar has for me is nothing to that she entertains for you. I'm sure she made some speech of the kind; did she not, Ellen? And she has fasted ever since the day before yesterday's walk, from sorrow and rage that I despatched her out of your society under the idea of its being unacceptable." "I think you belie her," said Heathcliff, twisting his chair to face them. "She wishes to be out of my society now, at any rate!" And he stared hard at the object of discourse, as one might do at a strange repulsive animal: a centipede from the Indies, for instance, which curiosity leads one to examine in spite of the aversion it raises. The poor thing couldn't bear that; she grew white and red in rapid succession, and, while tears beaded her lashes, bent the strength of her small fingers to loosen the firm clutch of Catherine; and perceiving that as fast as she raised one finger off her arm another closed down, and she could not remove the whole together, she began to make use of her nails; and their sharpness presently ornamented the detainer's with crescents of red. "There's a tigress!" exclaimed Mrs. Linton, setting her free, and shaking her hand with pain. "Begone, for God's sake, and hide your vixen face! How foolish to reveal those talons to him. Can't you fancy the conclusions he'll draw? Look, Heathcliff! they are instruments that will do execution-you must beware of your eyes." "I'd wrench them off her fingers, if they ever menaced me," he answered, brutally, when the door had closed after her. "But what did you mean by teasing the creature in that manner, Cathy? You were not speaking the truth, were you?" "I assure you I was," she returned. "She has been dying for your sake several weeks, and raving about you this morning, and pouring forth a deluge of abuse, because I represented your failings in a plain light, for the purpose of mitigating her adoration. But don't notice it further: I wished to punish her sauciness, that's all. I like her too well, my dear Heathcliff, to let you absolutely seize and devour her up." "And I like her too ill to attempt it," said he, "except in a very ghoulish fashion. You'd hear of odd things if I lived alone with that mawkish, waxen face: the most ordinary would be painting on its white the colours of the rainbow, and turning the blue eyes black, every day or two: they detestably resemble Linton's." "Delectably!" observed Catherine. "They are dove's eyes-angel's!" "She's her brother's heir, is she not?" he asked, after a brief silence. "I should be sorry to think so," returned his companion. "Half a dozen nephews shall erase her title, please heaven! Abstract your mind from the subject at present: you are too prone to covet your neighbour's goods; remember _this_ neighbour's goods are mine." "If they were _mine_, they would be none the less that," said Heathcliff; "but though Isabella Linton may be silly, she is scarcely mad; and, in short, we'll dismiss the matter, as you advise." From their tongues they did dismiss it; and Catherine, probably, from her thoughts. The other, I felt certain, recalled it often in the course of the evening. I saw him smile to himself-grin rather-and lapse into ominous musing whenever Mrs. Linton had occasion to be absent from the apartment. I determined to watch his movements. My heart invariably cleaved to the master's, in preference to Catherine's side: with reason I imagined, for he was kind, and trustful, and honourable; and she-she could not be called _opposite_, yet she seemed to allow herself such wide latitude, that I had little faith in her principles, and still less sympathy for her feelings. I wanted something to happen which might have the effect of freeing both Wuthering Heights and the Grange of Mr. Heathcliff quietly; leaving us as we had been prior to his advent. His visits were a continual nightmare to me; and, I suspected, to my master also. His abode at the Heights was an oppression past explaining. I felt that God had forsaken the stray sheep there to its own wicked wanderings, and an evil beast prowled between it and the fold, waiting his time to spring and destroy.

A charming introduction to a hermit's life! Four weeks' torture and sickness! Oh, these bleak winds and bitter northern skies, and impassable roads, and slow country surgeons! And oh, this lack of human faces! Worse than all, the doctor tells me that I must not expect to be out of doors till spring! Mr. Heathcliff honoured me with a call. About seven days ago he sent me a brace of grouse. Scoundrel! He is to blame for my illness; as I had a great mind to tell him. But how could I offend a man who was charitable enough to sit at my bedside a good hour, and talk on some other subject than pills and leeches? Being too weak to read, I rang Mrs. Dean and asked her to finish her tale. I remembered her hero had run off, and never been heard of for three years; and the heroine was married. 'Take your seat,' I said. 'Draw your knitting out of your pocket - now continue the history of Mr. Heathcliff. Did he go to the Continent, and come back an educated gentleman? or did he escape to America, and fight against the English? or make his fortune on the highways?' 'He may have done all those, Mr. Lockwood; but I couldn't say. I don't know how he gained his money; nor how he raised his mind from its savage ignorance: but I'll proceed, if you think it will not weary you.' I took Miss Catherine to Thrushcross Grange (said Mrs. Dean); and she behaved much better than I expected. She seemed almost over-fond of Mr. Linton; and even to his sister she showed affection. They were both very attentive to her comfort, certainly. It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. She stood erect, and the others yielded. I observed that Mr. Edgar had a deep-rooted fear of angering her. If ever he heard me answer her sharply, he would frown, and spoke sternly to me about my pertness. Since he was a kind master, I learned to be less touchy; and, for half a year, the gunpowder lay as harmless as sand, because no fire came near to explode it. Catherine had seasons of gloom now and then: they were respected by her husband, who thought they were produced by her previous illness. The return of sunshine was welcomed by answering sunshine from him. I believe that they were really in possession of deep and growing happiness. It ended. Events happened to make each feel that they were not first in the other's thoughts. One mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a basket of apples. It was dusk, and the moon looked over the high wall of the court, causing shadows to lurk in the corners. I set my burden by the kitchen-door, and lingered to rest, drawing in the soft, sweet air, when I heard a voice behind me say, 'Nelly, is that you?' It was a deep voice, and foreign in tone; yet something in its manner sounded familiar. I turned around fearfully, for I had seen nobody. Something stirred in the porch; and I distinguished a tall man dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair. 'Who can it be?' I thought. 'I have waited here an hour,' he resumed; 'and the place has been as still as death. I dared not enter. You do not know me? I'm not a stranger!' A ray fell on his features; the cheeks were sallow, and half covered with black whiskers; the brows lowering, the eyes deep-set and singular. I remembered the eyes. 'What!' I cried in amazement. 'Is it really you?' 'Yes; Heathcliff,' he replied, glancing up to the windows, which reflected a score of glittering moons, but showed no lights within. 'Are they at home? Is she here? I want to have one word with her. Go and say some person from Gimmerton desires to see her.' 'The surprise will put her out of her head!' I exclaimed. 'Heathcliff! Have you been for a soldier?' 'Go and carry my message,' he said impatiently. 'I'm in hell till you do!' I entered; and found Mr. and Mrs. Linton in the parlour. They sat together in a window which displayed the wild green park and the valley of Gimmerton, with a long line of mist winding nearly to its top. Wuthering Heights rose above this silvery vapour. All looked wondrously peaceful. I shrank from performing my errand; but I muttered, 'A person from Gimmerton wishes to see you, ma'am.' 'Well, close the curtains, Nelly,' she said; 'I'll be back directly.' She left the apartment; Mr. Edgar inquired, carelessly, who it was. 'Some one mistress does not expect,' I replied. 'That Heathcliff who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw's.' 'What! the gipsy?' he cried. 'Hush! you must not call him that, master,' I said. 'She'd be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off. I guess his return will be a joy to her.' Catherine flew upstairs, breathless and wild; too excited to show gladness: indeed, by her face, you would rather have guessed an awful calamity had happened. 'Oh, Edgar, Edgar!' she panted, flinging her arms round his neck. 'Oh, Edgar darling! Heathcliff's come back!' 'Well, well,' cried her husband, crossly, 'don't strangle me for that! He never struck me as such a marvellous treasure.' 'I know you didn't like him,' she answered. 'Yet, for my sake, you must be friends now. Shall I tell him to come up?' 'Here,' he said, 'into the parlour?' 'Where else?' He looked vexed, and suggested the kitchen as a more suitable place. 'No," said Mrs. Linton, half angry, half laughing; 'Set two tables here, Ellen: one for your master and Miss Isabella, being gentry; the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders. Will that please you, dear? Or must I have a fire lit elsewhere? I'll run down to my guest. I'm afraid the joy is too great to be real!' She was about to dart off again; but Edgar stopped her. 'Bid him step up,' he said to me; 'and, Catherine, try to be glad, without being absurd. The whole household need not witness the sight of your welcoming a runaway servant as a brother.' I descended, and found Heathcliff waiting under the porch. He followed me into the presence of the master and mistress, whose flushed cheeks betrayed signs of an argument. But when her friend appeared at the door, she sprang forward, and led him to Linton; and then she seized Linton's reluctant fingers and crushed them into his. Now, fully revealed by the candlelight, I was amazed to behold the transformation of Heathcliff. He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside whom my master seemed quite slender and youth-like. His upright carriage suggested the idea of his having been in the army. His face looked older and more decisive than Mr. Linton's; and intelligent, with no sign of its former degradation. A half-civilised ferocity lurked yet in the eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was dignified: quite without roughness. My master's surprise equalled mine: he remained for a minute at a loss how to address the ploughboy, as he had called him. Heathcliff dropped his slight hand, and stood looking at him coolly till he chose to speak. 'Sit down, sir,' he said, at length. 'Mrs. Linton, recalling old times, wishes me to receive you cordially; and, of course, I am gratified when anything occurs to please her.' 'I also,' answered Heathcliff, 'especially if it be anything in which I have a part. I shall stay an hour or two willingly.' He took a seat opposite Catherine, who kept her eyes fixed on him as if she feared he would vanish. He did not raise his gaze to her often: a quick glance now and then sufficed; but it flashed back, each time more confidently, the undisguised delight he drank from her look. They were too much absorbed in their mutual joy to suffer embarrassment. Not so Mr. Edgar: he grew pale with annoyance: a feeling that reached its climax when his lady rose, and, stepping across the rug, seized Heathcliff's hands again, and laughed like one beside herself. 'I shall think it a dream tomorrow!' she cried. 'I shall not be able to believe that I have seen, and touched, and spoken to you once more. And yet, cruel Heathcliff! you don't deserve this welcome. To be absent and silent for three years, and never to think of me!' 'A little more than you have thought of me,' he murmured. 'I heard of your marriage, Cathy; and I decided to have one glimpse of your face; and afterwards to settle my score with Hindley; and then prevent the law by doing execution on myself. Your welcome has put these ideas out of my mind. You'll not drive me off again. You were really sorry for me, were you? Well, there was cause. I've fought through a bitter life since I last heard your voice; and I struggled only for you!' 'Catherine, please come to the table,' interrupted Linton, striving to keep his ordinary tone, and a measure of politeness. 'Mr. Heathcliff will have a long walk, wherever he may lodge to-night; and I'm thirsty.' Miss Isabella came; then, with the tea poured, I left the room. The meal hardly lasted ten minutes. Catherine could neither eat nor drink. Edgar scarcely swallowed a mouthful. Their guest did not stay more than an hour. I asked him, as he left, if he went to Gimmerton? 'No, to Wuthering Heights,' he answered: 'Mr. Earnshaw invited me, when I called this morning.' Hindley invited him! I pondered this sentence painfully, after he was gone. Was he coming into the country to work mischief under a cloak? I felt that he had better have stayed away. About the middle of the night, I was wakened by Mrs. Linton gliding into my chamber. 'I cannot rest, Ellen,' she said. 'Edgar is sulky, because I'm glad of a thing that does not interest him: he is pettish, and said I was cruel and selfish for wishing to talk when he was sick and sleepy. He always contrives to be sick at the least thing! I said a few sentences in praise of Heathcliff, and he began to cry: so I got up and left him.' 'What use is it praising Heathcliff to him?' I answered. 'As lads they did not like each other, and Heathcliff would hate to hear him praised.' 'But does it not show great weakness?' said she. 'I'm never envious of Isabella's fair hair or her dainty elegance. In a dispute, I yield and call her a darling. It pleases her brother to see us friends, and that pleases me. But they are very much alike: they are spoiled children, and fancy the world was made for them; and though I humour both, I think a smart chastisement might improve them.' 'You're mistaken, Mrs. Linton,' said I. 'They humour you. They make it their business to foresee all your desires. If you fall out, however, they can be as obstinate as you can.' She laughed. 'I have such faith in Linton's love, that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn't retaliate. But he needn't resort to whining. Instead of melting into tears because I said that Heathcliff was now worthy of anyone's regard, he ought to have said it himself. He must get used to him. I'm sure Heathcliff behaved excellently!' 'What do you think of his going to Wuthering Heights?' I inquired. 'He said he called there to gather information about me; and Hindley asked him what he had been doing, and desired him to walk in. There were some persons sitting at cards; Heathcliff joined them; my brother lost some money to him, and, finding him plentifully supplied, he asked him to come again in the evening. Hindley is reckless; he doesn't reflect that perhaps he should mistrust one whom he has injured. But Heathcliff says he has an attachment to the house where we lived together. He means to pay well to lodge at the Heights; and doubtless my brother's greed will lead him to accept.' 'Have you no fear of the consequences, Mrs. Linton?' 'None for Heathcliff,' she replied: 'a little for Hindley: but I stand between him and harm. The event of this evening has reconciled me to God and humanity! Oh, I've endured very bitter misery, Nelly! If Edgar knew how bitter, he would not be so petulant. It was kindness for him which made me bear it. However, now I can bear anything! As a proof, I'll go make my peace with Edgar instantly. Good-night! I'm an angel!' In this self-complacent conviction she departed; and her success was obvious the next day. Mr. Linton not only ceased his peevishness (though he seemed still subdued), but he let her take Isabella with her to Wuthering Heights; and Catherine rewarded him with such a summer of sweetness and affection as made the house a paradise for several days. Heathcliff - Mr. Heathcliff I should say in future - used the liberty of visiting Thrushcross Grange cautiously, at first. Catherine wisely moderated her pleasure in receiving him; and he retained a great deal of his boyhood reserve. My master's uneasiness was lulled, and other matters distracted him for a while. His new source of trouble sprang from Isabella Linton, who felt a sudden and irresistible attraction towards Heathcliff. She was at that time a charming young lady of eighteen; infantile in manners, though with keen wit, and a keen temper, too. Her brother, who loved her tenderly, was appalled at her preference. Leaving aside the degradation of an alliance with a nameless man, he understood Heathcliff's character. He knew that, though Heathcliff's exterior was altered, his mind was unchanged. And that mind revolted him: he shrank from the idea of giving Isabella to its keeping. He would have recoiled still more had he known that Heathcliff cared nothing for her. We had all noticed for a while that Miss Linton fretted and pined over something. She grew cross and wearisome. We excused her on the plea of ill-health: she was fading before our eyes. But one day, when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast, complaining that the servants did not obey her, that she had caught a cold and that we let the parlour fire go out on purpose, and a hundred more frivolous accusations, Mrs. Linton insisted that she should get to bed; and threatened to send for the doctor. Isabella exclaimed that her health was perfect, and that it was only Catherine's harshness which made her unhappy. 'When have I been harsh?' cried the mistress, amazed. 'Yesterday,' sobbed Isabella. 'Yesterday! When?' 'In our walk along the moor: you told me to ramble where I pleased, while you walked on with Mr. Heathcliff!' 'And that's your notion of harshness?' said Catherine, laughing. 'I merely thought Heathcliff's talk would not have entertained you.' 'Oh, no,' wept the young lady; 'you wished me away, because you knew I liked to be there! I wanted to be with-' 'Well?' said Catherine. 'With him: and I won't be always sent off! You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and want no one to be loved but yourself!' 'You are an impertinent little monkey!' exclaimed Mrs. Linton. 'But I'll not believe this idiocy! You cannot consider Heathcliff agreeable! I hope I have misunderstood you, Isabella?' 'No, you have not,' said the infatuated girl. 'I love him more than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let him!' 'I wouldn't be you for a kingdom, then!' Catherine declared. 'Nelly, help me to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: a creature without refinement; a wilderness of furze and stone. I'd as soon put that little canary outside on a winter's day, as recommend you to give your heart to him! Don't imagine that he conceals kindness beneath a stern exterior! He's not a rough diamond - a pearl-containing oyster: he's a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. He'd crush you like a sparrow's egg, Isabella, if he found you troublesome. Yet he'd be quite capable of marrying your fortune: avarice is becoming his besetting sin.' 'I don't believe you!' said Miss Linton indignantly. 'Ah! You think I speak from wicked selfishness?' 'I'm certain you do,' retorted Isabella. 'Good!' cried the other. 'Try for yourself: I have done.' 'All is against me!' sobbed Isabella, as Mrs. Linton left the room. 'But she lied, didn't she? Mr. Heathcliff is not a fiend: he has a true soul, or how could he remember her?' 'Banish him from your thoughts, Miss,' I said. 'He's a bird of bad omen: no mate for you. How has he got rich? Why is he staying at Wuthering Heights, with a man whom he hates? They say Mr. Earnshaw is worse and worse since he came. They sit up all night together, and Hindley does nothing but gamble and drink, pouring his gold into Heathcliff's pocket!' 'I'll not listen to your slanders, Ellen!' she replied. The next day, my master was out, and Mr. Heathcliff called in his absence. Catherine and Isabella were sitting in the library, on hostile terms. As Heathcliff passed the window, I noticed a mischievous smile on Catherine's face. 'Come in!' she exclaimed gaily. 'We need someone to thaw the ice between us; and you are the very person. Heathcliff, I'm proud to show you, at last, somebody that dotes on you more than myself. Nay, it's not Nelly; don't look at her! My poor little sister-in-law is breaking her heart over you. It lies in your power to be Edgar's brother! No, no, Isabella, you shan't run off,' she continued, grasping her. 'We were quarrelling like cats about you, Heathcliff; and I was informed that if I would only stand aside, my rival would shoot an arrow into your soul that would fix you for ever!' 'Catherine!' said Isabella, with dignity, 'I'd thank you to keep to the truth and not slander me, even in joke! Mr. Heathcliff, what amuses her is painful to me.' As the guest answered nothing, but looked thoroughly indifferent, she whispered to Catherine to let her go. 'By no means!' cried Mrs. Linton. 'You shall stay! Heathcliff, why aren't you pleased? Isabella swears that the love Edgar has for me is nothing to that she has for you.' Heathcliff stared hard at Isabella, as one might do at a strange repulsive animal. The poor thing couldn't bear that; she grew white and then red, and, while tears beaded her lashes, bent the strength of her small fingers to loosen Catherine's clutch. When she could not remove the hand, she began to use her sharp nails. 'There's a tigress!' exclaimed Mrs. Linton, setting her free. 'Begone, for God's sake, and hide your vixen face! How foolish to reveal those talons to him!' 'I'd wrench them off her fingers, if they ever menaced me,' he answered brutally, when the door had closed after her. 'But you were not speaking the truth, were you?' 'I assure you I was,' returned Catherine. 'She has been raving about you, and abusing me, because I described your failings. I wished to punish her sauciness, that's all. I like her too well, my dear Heathcliff, to let you seize and devour her.' 'And I like her too ill to attempt it,' said he. 'You'd hear of odd things if I lived with that mawkish, waxen face: I'd be painting it the colours of the rainbow, and turning the blue eyes black: they detestably resemble Linton's.' 'Delectably!' observed Catherine. 'They are dove's eyes - angel's!' 'She's her brother's heir, is she not?' 'I should be sorry to think so,' she returned. 'Half a dozen nephews shall erase her title, I hope! Keep your mind off the subject: you are too prone to covet your neighbour's goods; remember this neighbour's goods are mine.' They ceased to discuss the matter; but Heathcliff, I felt certain, recalled it often in the course of the evening. I saw him smile ominously to himself whenever Mrs. Linton was absent from the room. I determined to watch his movements. I felt for my master, for he was kind and honourable - more honourable than Catherine. Heathcliff's visits were a continual nightmare to me; and, I suspected, to my master also. And as for Wuthering Heights - I felt that God had forsaken the stray sheep there to its wicked wanderings, and an evil beast prowled between it and the fold, waiting his time to spring and destroy.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 10

On the morrow of that Monday, Earnshaw being still unable to follow his ordinary employments, and therefore remaining about the house, I speedily found it would be impracticable to retain my charge beside me, as heretofore. She got downstairs before me, and out into the garden, where she had seen her cousin performing some easy work; and when I went to bid them come to breakfast, I saw she had persuaded him to clear a large space of ground from currant and gooseberry bushes, and they were busy planning together an importation of plants from the Grange. I was terrified at the devastation which had been accomplished in a brief half-hour; the black-currant trees were the apple of Joseph's eye, and she had just fixed her choice of a flower-bed in the midst of them. "There! That will be all shown to the master," I exclaimed, "the minute it is discovered. And what excuse have you to offer for taking such liberties with the garden? We shall have a fine explosion on the head of it: see if we don't! Mr. Hareton, I wonder you should have no more wit than to go and make that mess at her bidding!" "I'd forgotten they were Joseph's," answered Earnshaw, rather puzzled; "but I'll tell him I did it." We always ate our meals with Mr. Heathcliff. I held the mistress's post in making tea and carving; so I was indispensable at table. Catherine usually sat by me, but to-day she stole nearer to Hareton; and I presently saw she would have no more discretion in her friendship than she had in her hostility. "Now, mind you don't talk with and notice your cousin too much," were my whispered instructions as we entered the room. "It will certainly annoy Mr. Heathcliff, and he'll be mad at you both." "I'm not going to," she answered. The minute after, she had sidled to him, and was sticking primroses in his plate of porridge. He dared not speak to her there: he dared hardly look; and yet she went on teasing, till he was twice on the point of being provoked to laugh. I frowned, and then she glanced towards the master: whose mind was occupied on other subjects than his company, as his countenance evinced; and she grew serious for an instant, scrutinizing him with deep gravity. Afterwards she turned, and recommenced her nonsense; at last, Hareton uttered a smothered laugh. Mr. Heathcliff started; his eye rapidly surveyed our faces, Catherine met it with her accustomed look of nervousness and yet defiance, which he abhorred. "It is well you are out of my reach," he exclaimed. "What fiend possesses you to stare back at me, continually, with those infernal eyes? Down with them! and don't remind me of your existence again. I thought I had cured you of laughing." "It was me," muttered Hareton. "What do you say?" demanded the master. Hareton looked at his plate, and did not repeat the confession. Mr. Heathcliff looked at him a bit, and then silently resumed his breakfast and his interrupted musing. We had nearly finished, and the two young people prudently shifted wider asunder, so I anticipated no further disturbance during that sitting: when Joseph appeared at the door, revealing by his quivering lip and furious eyes that the outrage committed on his precious shrubs was detected. He must have seen Cathy and her cousin about the spot before he examined it, for while his jaws worked like those of a cow chewing its cud, and rendered his speech difficult to understand, he began:- "I mun hev' my wage, and I mun goa! I _hed_ aimed to dee wheare I'd sarved fur sixty year; and I thowt I'd lug my books up into t' garret, and all my bits o' stuff, and they sud hev' t' kitchen to theirseln; for t' sake o' quietness. It wur hard to gie up my awn hearthstun, but I thowt I _could_ do that! But nah, shoo's taan my garden fro' me, and by th' heart, maister, I cannot stand it! Yah may bend to th' yoak an ye will-I noan used to 't, and an old man doesn't sooin get used to new barthens. I'd rayther arn my bite an' my sup wi' a hammer in th' road!" "Now, now, idiot!" interrupted Heathcliff, "cut it short! What's your grievance? I'll interfere in no quarrels between you and Nelly. She may thrust you into the coal-hole for anything I care." "It's noan Nelly!" answered Joseph. "I sudn't shift for Nelly-nasty ill nowt as shoo is. Thank God! _shoo_ cannot stale t' sowl o' nob'dy! Shoo wer niver soa handsome, but what a body mud look at her 'bout winking. It's yon flaysome, graceless quean, that's witched our lad, wi' her bold een and her forrard ways-till-Nay! it fair brusts my heart! He's forgotten all I've done for him, and made on him, and goan and riven up a whole row o' t' grandest currant-trees i' t' garden!" and here he lamented outright; unmanned by a sense of his bitter injuries, and Earnshaw's ingratitude and dangerous condition. "Is the fool drunk?" asked Mr. Heathcliff. "Hareton, is it you he's finding fault with?" "I've pulled up two or three bushes," replied the young man; "but I'm going to set 'em again." "And why have you pulled them up?" said the master. Catherine wisely put in her tongue. "We wanted to plant some flowers there," she cried. "I'm the only person to blame, for I wished him to do it." "And who the devil gave _you_ leave to touch a stick about the place?" demanded her father-in-law, much surprised. "And who ordered _you_ to obey her?" he added, turning to Hareton. The latter was speechless; his cousin replied-"You shouldn't grudge a few yards of earth for me to ornament, when you have taken all my land!" "Your land, insolent slut! You never had any," said Heathcliff. "And my money," she continued; returning his angry glare, and meantime biting a piece of crust, the remnant of her breakfast. "Silence!" he exclaimed. "Get done, and begone!" "And Hareton's land, and his money," pursued the reckless thing. "Hareton and I are friends now; and I shall tell him all about you!" The master seemed confounded a moment: he grew pale, and rose up, eyeing her all the while, with an expression of mortal hate. "If you strike me, Hareton will strike you," she said; "so you may as well sit down." "If Hareton does not turn you out of the room, I'll strike him to hell," thundered Heathcliff. "Damnable witch! dare you pretend to rouse him against me? Off with her! Do you hear? Fling her into the kitchen! I'll kill her, Ellen Dean, if you let her come into my sight again!" Hareton tried, under his breath, to persuade her to go. "Drag her away!" he cried, savagely. "Are you staying to talk?" And he approached to execute his own command. "He'll not obey you, wicked man, any more," said Catherine; "and he'll soon detest you as much as I do." "Wisht! wisht!" muttered the young man, reproachfully; "I will not hear you speak so to him. Have done." "But you won't let him strike me?" she cried. "Come, then," he whispered earnestly. It was too late: Heathcliff had caught hold of her. "Now, _you_ go!" he said to Earnshaw. "Accursed witch! this time she has provoked me when I could not bear it; and I'll make her repent it for ever!" He had his hand in her hair; Hareton attempted to release her locks, entreating him not to hurt her that once. Heathcliff's black eyes flashed; he seemed ready to tear Catherine in pieces, and I was just worked up to risk coming to the rescue, when of a sudden his fingers relaxed; he shifted his grasp from her head to her arm, and gazed intently in her face. Then he drew his hand over his eyes, stood a moment to collect himself apparently, and turning anew to Catherine, said, with assumed calmness-"You must learn to avoid putting me in a passion, or I shall really murder you some time! Go with Mrs. Dean, and keep with her; and confine your insolence to her ears. As to Hareton Earnshaw, if I see him listen to you, I'll send him seeking his bread where he can get it! Your love will make him an outcast and a beggar. Nelly, take her; and leave me, all of you! Leave me!" I led my young lady out: she was too glad of her escape to resist; the other followed, and Mr. Heathcliff had the room to himself till dinner. I had counselled Catherine to dine upstairs; but, as soon as he perceived her vacant seat, he sent me to call her. He spoke to none of us, ate very little, and went out directly afterwards, intimating that he should not return before evening. The two new friends established themselves in the house during his absence; where I heard Hareton sternly check his cousin, on her offering a revelation of her father-in-law's conduct to his father. He said he wouldn't suffer a word to be uttered in his disparagement: if he were the devil, it didn't signify; he would stand by him; and he'd rather she would abuse himself, as she used to, than begin on Mr. Heathcliff. Catherine was waxing cross at this; but he found means to make her hold her tongue, by asking how she would like _him_ to speak ill of her father? Then she comprehended that Earnshaw took the master's reputation home to himself; and was attached by ties stronger than reason could break-chains, forged by habit, which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen. She showed a good heart, thenceforth, in avoiding both complaints and expressions of antipathy concerning Heathcliff; and confessed to me her sorrow that she had endeavoured to raise a bad spirit between him and Hareton: indeed, I don't believe she has ever breathed a syllable, in the latter's hearing, against her oppressor since. When this slight disagreement was over, they were friends again, and as busy as possible in their several occupations of pupil and teacher. I came in to sit with them, after I had done my work; and I felt so soothed and comforted to watch them, that I did not notice how time got on. You know, they both appeared in a measure my children: I had long been proud of one; and now, I was sure, the other would be a source of equal satisfaction. His honest, warm, and intelligent nature shook off rapidly the clouds of ignorance and degradation in which it had been bred; and Catherine's sincere commendations acted as a spur to his industry. His brightening mind brightened his features, and added spirit and nobility to their aspect: I could hardly fancy it the same individual I had beheld on the day I discovered my little lady at Wuthering Heights, after her expedition to the Crags. While I admired and they laboured, dusk drew on, and with it returned the master. He came upon us quite unexpectedly, entering by the front way, and had a full view of the whole three, ere we could raise our heads to glance at him. Well, I reflected, there was never a pleasanter, or more harmless sight; and it will be a burning shame to scold them. The red fire-light glowed on their two bonny heads, and revealed their faces animated with the eager interest of children; for, though he was twenty-three and she eighteen, each had so much of novelty to feel and learn, that neither experienced nor evinced the sentiments of sober disenchanted maturity. They lifted their eyes together, to encounter Mr. Heathcliff: perhaps you have never remarked that their eyes are precisely similar, and they are those of Catherine Earnshaw. The present Catherine has no other likeness to her, except a breadth of forehead, and a certain arch of the nostril that makes her appear rather haughty, whether she will or not. With Hareton the resemblance is carried farther: it is singular at all times, _then_ it was particularly striking; because his senses were alert, and his mental faculties wakened to unwonted activity. I suppose this resemblance disarmed Mr. Heathcliff: he walked to the hearth in evident agitation; but it quickly subsided as he looked at the young man: or, I should say, altered its character; for it was there yet. He took the book from his hand, and glanced at the open page, then returned it without any observation; merely signing Catherine away: her companion lingered very little behind her, and I was about to depart also, but he bid me sit still. "It is a poor conclusion, is it not?" he observed, having brooded awhile on the scene he had just witnessed: "an absurd termination to my violent exertions? I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and when everything is ready and in my power, I find the will to lift a slate off either roof has vanished! My old enemies have not beaten me; now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their representatives: I could do it; and none could hinder me. But where is the use? I don't care for striking: I can't take the trouble to raise my hand! That sounds as if I had been labouring the whole time only to exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case: I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing. "Nelly, there is a strange change approaching; I'm in its shadow at present. I take so little interest in my daily life that I hardly remember to eat and drink. Those two who have left the room are the only objects which retain a distinct material appearance to me; and that appearance causes me pain, amounting to agony. About _her_ I won't speak; and I don't desire to think; but I earnestly wish she were invisible: her presence invokes only maddening sensations. _He_ moves me differently: and yet if I could do it without seeming insane, I'd never see him again! You'll perhaps think me rather inclined to become so," he added, making an effort to smile, "if I try to describe the thousand forms of past associations and ideas he awakens or embodies. But you'll not talk of what I tell you; and my mind is so eternally secluded in itself, it is tempting at last to turn it out to another. "Five minutes ago Hareton seemed a personification of my youth, not a human being; I felt to him in such a variety of ways, that it would have been impossible to have accosted him rationally. In the first place, his startling likeness to Catherine connected him fearfully with her. That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least: for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree-filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day-I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women-my own features-mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her! Well, Hareton's aspect was the ghost of my immortal love; of my wild endeavours to hold my right; my degradation, my pride, my happiness, and my anguish- "But it is frenzy to repeat these thoughts to you: only it will let you know why, with a reluctance to be always alone, his society is no benefit; rather an aggravation of the constant torment I suffer: and it partly contributes to render me regardless how he and his cousin go on together. I can give them no attention any more." "But what do you mean by a _change_, Mr. Heathcliff?" I said, alarmed at his manner: though he was neither in danger of losing his senses, nor dying, according to my judgment: he was quite strong and healthy; and, as to his reason, from childhood he had a delight in dwelling on dark things, and entertaining odd fancies. He might have had a monomania on the subject of his departed idol; but on every other point his wits were as sound as mine. "I shall not know that till it comes," he said; "I'm only half conscious of it now." "You have no feeling of illness, have you?" I asked. "No, Nelly, I have not," he answered. "Then you are not afraid of death?" I pursued. "Afraid? No!" he replied. "I have neither a fear, nor a presentiment, nor a hope of death. Why should I? With my hard constitution and temperate mode of living, and unperilous occupations, I ought to, and probably _shall_, remain above ground till there is scarcely a black hair on my head. And yet I cannot continue in this condition! I have to remind myself to breathe-almost to remind my heart to beat! And it is like bending back a stiff spring: it is by compulsion that I do the slightest act not prompted by one thought; and by compulsion that I notice anything alive or dead, which is not associated with one universal idea. I have a single wish, and my whole being and faculties are yearning to attain it. They have yearned towards it so long, and so unwaveringly, that I'm convinced it will be reached-and soon-because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the anticipation of its fulfilment. My confessions have not relieved me; but they may account for some otherwise unaccountable phases of humour which I show. O God! It is a long fight; I wish it were over!" He began to pace the room, muttering terrible things to himself, till I was inclined to believe, as he said Joseph did, that conscience had turned his heart to an earthly hell. I wondered greatly how it would end. Though he seldom before had revealed this state of mind, even by looks, it was his habitual mood, I had no doubt: he asserted it himself; but not a soul, from his general bearing, would have conjectured the fact. You did not when you saw him, Mr. Lockwood: and at the period of which I speak, he was just the same as then; only fonder of continued solitude, and perhaps still more laconic in company.

On the next day, Catherine went out into the garden early with her cousin; and persuaded him to clear a large space of ground, so that they could bring in plants from the Grange. I was terrified at the devastation which had been accomplished in a brief half-hour; the black-currant trees were the apple of Joseph's eye, and she had just fixed her choice of a flower-bed in the midst of them. 'What excuse have you for taking such liberties with the garden?' I exclaimed. 'We shall have a fine explosion over this: see if we don't! Mr. Hareton, I wonder you should have no more wit than to go and make that mess at her bidding!' 'I'd forgotten they were Joseph's bushes,' answered Earnshaw, rather puzzled; 'but I'll tell him I did it.' We always ate our meals with Mr. Heathcliff. I made the tea, and Catherine usually sat by me, but today she stole nearer to Hareton. I saw she would have no more discretion in her friendship than she had in her hostility. 'Now, mind you don't talk with your cousin too much,' I whispered as we entered the room. 'It will annoy Mr. Heathcliff.' 'I'm not going to,' she answered. The minute after, she had sidled to Hareton, and was sticking primroses in his porridge. He dared not speak to her: he dared hardly look; and yet she went on teasing, till he twice almost laughed. I frowned, and she glanced towards the master. Heathcliff's mind was on other subjects, as his face showed; and she grew serious for an instant. But then she turned, and recommenced her nonsense; at last, Hareton uttered a smothered laugh. Mr. Heathcliff started and surveyed us. Catherine met his gaze with her usual look of nervous defiance, which he abhorred. 'It is well you are out of my reach,' he exclaimed. 'What fiend possesses you to stare back at me with those infernal eyes? Don't remind me of your existence again. I thought I had cured you of laughing.' 'It was me,' muttered Hareton. 'What did you say?' demanded the master. Hareton looked at his plate, and did not repeat the confession. Mr. Heathcliff looked at him, and then silently resumed his breakfast and his musing. We had nearly finished, when Joseph appeared at the door, revealing by his quivering lip that the outrage committed on his precious shrubs was detected. 'I must have my wage, and go! I had aimed to die where I'd served for sixty year. But now she's taken my garden fro' me, and I cannot stand it!' 'Now, now, idiot!' interrupted Heathcliff, 'cut it short! What's your grievance? I'll interfere in no quarrels between you and Nelly. She may thrust you into the coal-hole for anything I care.' 'It's noan Nelly!' answered Joseph. 'It's yon graceless queen, that's witched our lad, wi' her bold eyes and her forrard ways. It bursts my heart! He's forgotten all I've done for him, and gone and riven up a whole row o' t' grandest currant-trees in t' garden!' 'Is the fool drunk?' asked Mr. Heathcliff. 'Hareton, is it you he's finding fault with?' 'I've pulled up two or three bushes,' replied the young man; 'but I'm going to set 'em again.' 'And why have you pulled them up?' said the master. Catherine wisely put in her tongue. 'We wanted to plant some flowers there,' she cried. 'I'm the person to blame, for I wished him to do it.' 'And who the devil gave you leave to touch a stick about the place?' demanded her father-in-law, much surprised. 'And who ordered you to obey her?' he added, turning to Hareton. The latter was speechless. Catherine replied, 'You shouldn't grudge me a few yards of earth, when you have taken all my land!' 'Your land, insolent slut! You never had any,' said Heathcliff. 'And my money,' she continued, returning his angry glare. 'Silence!' he exclaimed. 'Begone!' 'And Hareton's land, and his money,' pursued the reckless thing. 'Hareton and I are friends now; and I shall tell him all about you!' The master seemed confounded: he grew pale, and rose up, eyeing her with an expression of hate. 'If you strike me, Hareton will strike you,' she said; 'so you may as well sit down.' 'If Hareton does not turn you out of the room, I'll strike him to hell,' thundered Heathcliff. 'Damnable witch! dare you pretend to rouse him against me? Off with her! Do you hear? Fling her into the kitchen! I'll kill her, Ellen Dean, if you let her come into my sight again!' Hareton tried, under his breath, to persuade her to go. 'Drag her away!' cried Heathcliff, savagely. 'He'll not obey you any more, wicked man,' said Catherine. 'He'll soon detest you as much as I do.' 'Hush!' muttered the young man reproachfully. 'I will not hear you speak so to him.' 'But you won't let him strike me?' she cried. 'Come away, then,' he whispered. It was too late: Heathcliff had caught hold of her. 'Now, you go!' he said to Earnshaw. 'Accursed witch! she has provoked me unbearably; and I'll make her repent it for ever!' He had his hand in her hair; Hareton attempted to release her, entreating him not to hurt her. Heathcliff's black eyes flashed; he seemed ready to tear Catherine in pieces, when suddenly his fingers relaxed. He shifted his grasp, and gazed intently in her face. Then he drew his hand over his eyes, stood a moment to collect himself, and turning to Catherine, said, with assumed calmness: 'You must learn to avoid putting me in a passion, or I shall really murder you some time! Go with Mrs. Dean, and stay with her. As to Hareton Earnshaw, if I see him listen to you, I'll make him an outcast and a beggar. Nelly, take her; and leave me, all of you! Leave me!' I led my young lady out: Hareton followed, and Mr. Heathcliff had the room to himself till dinner. I had advised Catherine to dine upstairs; but, as soon as he perceived her vacant seat, he sent me to call her. He spoke to none of us, ate very little, and went out directly afterwards, saying that he should not return before evening. During his absence, I heard Hareton sternly stop his cousin from telling him about her father-in-law's conduct. He said he wouldn't suffer a word to be uttered against Heathcliff: if he were the devil, it didn't matter; he would stand by him. Catherine grew cross, until he asked if she would like him to speak ill of her father? Then she comprehended that Earnshaw was attached to the master by ties stronger than reason could break - chains which it would be cruel to attempt to loosen. She showed a good heart in avoiding any further complaints about Heathcliff; and indeed, I don't believe she has breathed a syllable, in Hareton's hearing, against Heathcliff since. After this they were friends again, and as busy as possible in their occupations of pupil and teacher. I came in to sit with them, after I had done my work; and I felt comforted to watch them, as if they had been my own children. Hareton's honest, warm, and intelligent nature shook off rapidly the clouds of ignorance; and Catherine's praise spurred him to industry. His features gained spirit and nobility: I hardly thought him the same person I had beheld on the day I discovered my little lady at Wuthering Heights. Meanwhile dusk drew on, and with it returned the master. He entered unexpectedly, and had a full view of us before we could raise our heads. Well, I reflected, there was never a pleasanter, or more harmless sight: their faces showed the eager interest of children; for, though he was twenty-three and she eighteen, each had so much to feel and learn, that neither felt the disenchantment of maturity. They lifted their eyes together: perhaps you have never noticed that their eyes are precisely similar, and they are those of Catherine Earnshaw. The present Catherine has no other likeness to her, except a breadth of forehead, and a certain haughty arch of the nostril. But with Hareton the resemblance is singular at all times, and just then it was particularly striking. Mr. Heathcliff walked to the hearth in agitation. He took the book from Hareton, and glanced at the page, then returned it without any observation; merely signing Catherine away. Her companion followed her, and I was about to depart also, but he bid me sit still. 'It is a poor end, is it not, to my exertions?' he observed. 'I work like Hercules to demolish the two houses, and when everything is in my power, I can't take the trouble to raise my hand! It is not generosity that stops me: but I have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle to destroy for nothing. 'Nelly, there is a strange change approaching; I'm in its shadow at present. I take so little interest in my daily life that I hardly remember to eat and drink. Those two who have left the room are the only objects which retain a distinct material appearance to me; and that appearance causes me pain, amounting to agony. About her I won't speak; but I earnestly wish she were invisible: her presence is maddening. He moves me differently: and yet if I could, I'd never see him again! You'll perhaps think me insane,' he added, making an effort to smile, 'if I try to describe the thousand ideas of the past he awakens. 'Five minutes ago Hareton seemed a personification of my youth, not a human being. His startling likeness to Catherine connected him fearfully with her. But then, what does not connect her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor without seeing her features in the flagstones! In every cloud, in every tree - filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day - I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her! Well, Hareton's aspect was the ghost of my immortal love; of my degradation, my pride, my happiness, and my anguish- 'But it is frenzy to repeat these thoughts to you: only it will explain why his society is a torment to me. I do not care how he and his cousin go on together. I can give them no attention any more.' 'But what do you mean by a change, Mr. Heathcliff?' I said, alarmed at his manner, although I did not think he was in danger of losing his senses, nor of dying. He was quite strong and healthy; and, as to his reason, from childhood he had a delight in dwelling on dark things. He might have been obsessed with the dead Catherine; but on every other point his wits were as sound as mine. 'I shall not know that till it comes,' he said; 'I'm only half conscious of it now.' 'Do you feel ill?' I asked. 'No, Nelly.' 'Then you are not afraid of death?' 'Afraid? No!' he replied. 'I have neither fear nor hope of death. Why should I? With my hard constitution, I ought to remain above ground till there is scarcely a black hair on my head. And yet I cannot continue in this condition! I have to remind myself to breathe - almost to remind my heart to beat! It is by compulsion that I do the slightest act, or notice anything alive or dead, which is not associated with one universal idea. I have a single wish, and my whole being yearns to attain it. I have yearned towards it so long, and so unwaveringly, that I'm convinced it will be reached - and soon - because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the anticipation of its fulfilment. O God! It is a long fight; I wish it were over!' He began to pace the room, muttering terrible things, till I was inclined to believe, as Joseph did, that conscience had turned his heart to an earthly hell. I wondered how it would end. Though he seldom before had revealed this state of mind, it was his habitual mood, I had no doubt; but nobody would have guessed it. You did not guess it when you saw him, Mr. Lockwood: for he appeared as usual, but more solitary and silent.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 33

The twelve years, continued Mrs. Dean, following that dismal period were the happiest of my life: my greatest troubles in their passage rose from our little lady's trifling illnesses, which she had to experience in common with all children, rich and poor. For the rest, after the first six months, she grew like a larch, and could walk and talk too, in her own way, before the heath blossomed a second time over Mrs. Linton's dust. She was the most winning thing that ever brought sunshine into a desolate house: a real beauty in face, with the Earnshaws' handsome dark eyes, but the Lintons' fair skin and small features, and yellow curling hair. Her spirit was high, though not rough, and qualified by a heart sensitive and lively to excess in its affections. That capacity for intense attachments reminded me of her mother: still she did not resemble her: for she could be soft and mild as a dove, and she had a gentle voice and pensive expression: her anger was never furious; her love never fierce: it was deep and tender. However, it must be acknowledged, she had faults to foil her gifts. A propensity to be saucy was one; and a perverse will, that indulged children invariably acquire, whether they be good tempered or cross. If a servant chanced to vex her, it was always-"I shall tell papa!" And if he reproved her, even by a look, you would have thought it a heart-breaking business: I don't believe he ever did speak a harsh word to her. He took her education entirely on himself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and a quick intellect made her an apt scholar: she learned rapidly and eagerly, and did honour to his teaching. Till she reached the age of thirteen she had not once been beyond the range of the park by herself. Mr. Linton would take her with him a mile or so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her to no one else. Gimmerton was an unsubstantial name in her ears; the chapel, the only building she had approached or entered, except her own home. Wuthering Heights and Mr. Heathcliff did not exist for her: she was a perfect recluse; and, apparently, perfectly contented. Sometimes, indeed, while surveying the country from her nursery window, she would observe- "Ellen, how long will it be before I can walk to the top of those hills? I wonder what lies on the other side-is it the sea?" "No, Miss Cathy," I would answer; "it is hills again, just like these." "And what are those golden rocks like when you stand under them?" she once asked. The abrupt descent of Penistone Crags particularly attracted her notice; especially when the setting sun shone on it and the topmost heights, and the whole extent of landscape besides lay in shadow. I explained that they were bare masses of stone, with hardly enough earth in their clefts to nourish a stunted tree. "And why are they bright so long after it is evening here?" she pursued. "Because they are a great deal higher up than we are," replied I; "you could not climb them, they are too high and steep. In winter the frost is always there before it comes to us; and deep into summer I have found snow under that black hollow on the north-east side!" "Oh, you have been on them!" she cried gleefully. "Then I can go, too, when I am a woman. Has papa been, Ellen?" "Papa would tell you, Miss," I answered, hastily, "that they are not worth the trouble of visiting. The moors, where you ramble with him, are much nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest place in the world." "But I know the park, and I don't know those," she murmured to herself. "And I should delight to look round me from the brow of that tallest point: my little pony Minny shall take me some time." One of the maids mentioning the Fairy Cave, quite turned her head with a desire to fulfil this project: she teased Mr. Linton about it; and he promised she should have the journey when she got older. But Miss Catherine measured her age by months, and, "Now, am I old enough to go to Penistone Crags?" was the constant question in her mouth. The road thither wound close by Wuthering Heights. Edgar had not the heart to pass it; so she received as constantly the answer, "Not yet, love: not yet." I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting her husband. Her family were of a delicate constitution: she and Edgar both lacked the ruddy health that you will generally meet in these parts. What her last illness was, I am not certain: I conjecture, they died of the same thing, a kind of fever, slow at its commencement, but incurable, and rapidly consuming life towards the close. She wrote to inform her brother of the probable conclusion of a four-months' indisposition under which she had suffered, and entreated him to come to her, if possible; for she had much to settle, and she wished to bid him adieu, and deliver Linton safely into his hands. Her hope was that Linton might be left with him, as he had been with her: his father, she would fain convince herself, had no desire to assume the burden of his maintenance or education. My master hesitated not a moment in complying with her request: reluctant as he was to leave home at ordinary calls, he flew to answer this; commanding Catherine to my peculiar vigilance, in his absence, with reiterated orders that she must not wander out of the park, even under my escort: he did not calculate on her going unaccompanied. He was away three weeks. The first day or two my charge sat in a corner of the library, too sad for either reading or playing: in that quiet state she caused me little trouble; but it was succeeded by an interval of impatient, fretful weariness; and being too busy, and too old then, to run up and down amusing her, I hit on a method by which she might entertain herself. I used to send her on her travels round the grounds-now on foot, and now on a pony; indulging her with a patient audience of all her real and imaginary adventures when she returned. The summer shone in full prime; and she took such a taste for this solitary rambling that she often contrived to remain out from breakfast till tea; and then the evenings were spent in recounting her fanciful tales. I did not fear her breaking bounds; because the gates were generally locked, and I thought she would scarcely venture forth alone, if they had stood wide open. Unluckily, my confidence proved misplaced. Catherine came to me, one morning, at eight o'clock, and said she was that day an Arabian merchant, going to cross the Desert with his caravan; and I must give her plenty of provision for herself and beasts: a horse, and three camels, personated by a large hound and a couple of pointers. I got together good store of dainties, and slung them in a basket on one side of the saddle; and she sprang up as gay as a fairy, sheltered by her wide-brimmed hat and gauze veil from the July sun, and trotted off with a merry laugh, mocking my cautious counsel to avoid galloping, and come back early. The naughty thing never made her appearance at tea. One traveller, the hound, being an old dog and fond of its ease, returned; but neither Cathy, nor the pony, nor the two pointers were visible in any direction: I despatched emissaries down this path, and that path, and at last went wandering in search of her myself. There was a labourer working at a fence round a plantation, on the borders of the grounds. I inquired of him if he had seen our young lady. "I saw her at morn," he replied: "she would have me to cut her a hazel switch, and then she leapt her Galloway over the hedge yonder, where it is lowest, and galloped out of sight." You may guess how I felt at hearing this news. It struck me directly she must have started for Penistone Crags. "What will become of her?" I ejaculated, pushing through a gap which the man was repairing, and making straight to the high-road. I walked as if for a wager, mile after mile, till a turn brought me in view of the Heights; but no Catherine could I detect, far or near. The Crags lie about a mile and a half beyond Mr. Heathcliff's place, and that is four from the Grange, so I began to fear night would fall ere I could reach them. "And what if she should have slipped in clambering among them," I reflected, "and been killed, or broken some of her bones?" My suspense was truly painful; and, at first, it gave me delightful relief to observe, in hurrying by the farmhouse, Charlie, the fiercest of the pointers, lying under a window, with swelled head and bleeding ear. I opened the wicket and ran to the door, knocking vehemently for admittance. A woman whom I knew, and who formerly lived at Gimmerton, answered: she had been servant there since the death of Mr. Earnshaw. "Ah," said she, "you are come a-seeking your little mistress! Don't be frightened. She's here safe: but I'm glad it isn't the master." "He is not at home then, is he?" I panted, quite breathless with quick walking and alarm. "No, no," she replied: "both he and Joseph are off, and I think they won't return this hour or more. Step in and rest you a bit." I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rocking herself in a little chair that had been her mother's when a child. Her hat was hung against the wall, and she seemed perfectly at home, laughing and chattering, in the best spirits imaginable, to Hareton-now a great, strong lad of eighteen-who stared at her with considerable curiosity and astonishment: comprehending precious little of the fluent succession of remarks and questions which her tongue never ceased pouring forth. "Very well, Miss!" I exclaimed, concealing my joy under an angry countenance. "This is your last ride, till papa comes back. I'll not trust you over the threshold again, you naughty, naughty girl!" "Aha, Ellen!" she cried, gaily, jumping up and running to my side. "I shall have a pretty story to tell to-night; and so you've found me out. Have you ever been here in your life before?" "Put that hat on, and home at once," said I. "I'm dreadfully grieved at you, Miss Cathy: you've done extremely wrong! It's no use pouting and crying: that won't repay the trouble I've had, scouring the country after you. To think how Mr. Linton charged me to keep you in; and you stealing off so! It shows you are a cunning little fox, and nobody will put faith in you any more." "What have I done?" sobbed she, instantly checked. "Papa charged me nothing: he'll not scold me, Ellen-he's never cross, like you!" "Come, come!" I repeated. "I'll tie the riband. Now, let us have no petulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such a baby!" This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head, and retreating to the chimney out of my reach. "Nay," said the servant, "don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs. Dean. We made her stop: she'd fain have ridden forwards, afeard you should be uneasy. Hareton offered to go with her, and I thought he should: it's a wild road over the hills." Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in his pockets, too awkward to speak; though he looked as if he did not relish my intrusion. "How long am I to wait?" I continued, disregarding the woman's interference. "It will be dark in ten minutes. Where is the pony, Miss Cathy? And where is Phoenix? I shall leave you, unless you be quick; so please yourself." "The pony is in the yard," she replied, "and Phoenix is shut in there. He's bitten-and so is Charlie. I was going to tell you all about it; but you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve to hear." I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceiving that the people of the house took her part, she commenced capering round the room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over and under and behind the furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me to pursue. Hareton and the woman laughed, and she joined them, and waxed more impertinent still; till I cried, in great irritation,-"Well, Miss Cathy, if you were aware whose house this is you'd be glad enough to get out." "It's _your_ father's, isn't it?" said she, turning to Hareton. "Nay," he replied, looking down, and blushing bashfully. He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they were just his own. "Whose then-your master's?" she asked. He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, and turned away. "Who is his master?" continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me. "He talked about 'our house,' and 'our folk.' I thought he had been the owner's son. And he never said Miss: he should have done, shouldn't he, if he's a servant?" Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech. I silently shook my questioner, and at last succeeded in equipping her for departure. "Now, get my horse," she said, addressing her unknown kinsman as she would one of the stable-boys at the Grange. "And you may come with me. I want to see where the goblin-hunter rises in the marsh, and to hear about the _fairishes_, as you call them: but make haste! What's the matter? Get my horse, I say." "I'll see thee damned before I be _thy_ servant!" growled the lad. "You'll see me _what_!" asked Catherine in surprise. "Damned-thou saucy witch!" he replied. "There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company," I interposed. "Nice words to be used to a young lady! Pray don't begin to dispute with him. Come, let us seek for Minny ourselves, and begone." "But, Ellen," cried she, staring fixed in astonishment, "how dare he speak so to me? Mustn't he be made to do as I ask him? You wicked creature, I shall tell papa what you said.-Now, then!" Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears sprang into her eyes with indignation. "You bring the pony," she exclaimed, turning to the woman, "and let my dog free this moment!" "Softly, Miss," answered she addressed; "you'll lose nothing by being civil. Though Mr. Hareton, there, be not the master's son, he's your cousin: and I was never hired to serve you." "_He_ my cousin!" cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh. "Yes, indeed," responded her reprover. "Oh, Ellen! don't let them say such things," she pursued in great trouble. "Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousin is a gentleman's son. That my-" she stopped, and wept outright; upset at the bare notion of relationship with such a clown. "Hush, hush!" I whispered; "people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad." "He's not-he's not my cousin, Ellen!" she went on, gathering fresh grief from reflection, and flinging herself into my arms for refuge from the idea. I was much vexed at her and the servant for their mutual revelations; having no doubt of Linton's approaching arrival, communicated by the former, being reported to Mr. Heathcliff; and feeling as confident that Catherine's first thought on her father's return would be to seek an explanation of the latter's assertion concerning her rude-bred kindred. Hareton, recovering from his disgust at being taken for a servant, seemed moved by her distress; and, having fetched the pony round to the door, he took, to propitiate her, a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from the kennel, and putting it into her hand, bid her whist! for he meant nought. Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with a glance of awe and horror, then burst forth anew. I could scarcely refrain from smiling at this antipathy to the poor fellow; who was a well-made, athletic youth, good-looking in features, and stout and healthy, but attired in garments befitting his daily occupations of working on the farm and lounging among the moors after rabbits and game. Still, I thought I could detect in his physiognomy a mind owning better qualities than his father ever possessed. Good things lost amid a wilderness of weeds, to be sure, whose rankness far over-topped their neglected growth; yet, notwithstanding, evidence of a wealthy soil, that might yield luxuriant crops under other and favourable circumstances. Mr. Heathcliff, I believe, had not treated him physically ill; thanks to his fearless nature, which offered no temptation to that course of oppression: he had none of the timid susceptibility that would have given zest to ill-treatment, in Heathcliff's judgment. He appeared to have bent his malevolence on making him a brute: he was never taught to read or write; never rebuked for any bad habit which did not annoy his keeper; never led a single step towards virtue, or guarded by a single precept against vice. And from what I heard, Joseph contributed much to his deterioration, by a narrow-minded partiality which prompted him to flatter and pet him, as a boy, because he was the head of the old family. And as he had been in the habit of accusing Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, when children, of putting the master past his patience, and compelling him to seek solace in drink by what he termed their "offald ways," so at present he laid the whole burden of Hareton's faults on the shoulders of the usurper of his property. If the lad swore, he wouldn't correct him: nor however culpably he behaved. It gave Joseph satisfaction, apparently, to watch him go the worst lengths: he allowed that the lad was ruined: that his soul was abandoned to perdition; but then he reflected that Heathcliff must answer for it. Hareton's blood would be required at his hands; and there lay immense consolation in that thought. Joseph had instilled into him a pride of name, and of his lineage; he would, had he dared, have fostered hate between him and the present owner of the Heights: but his dread of that owner amounted to superstition; and he confined his feelings regarding him to muttered innuendoes and private comminations. I don't pretend to be intimately acquainted with the mode of living customary in those days at Wuthering Heights: I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little. The villagers affirmed Mr. Heathcliff was _near_, and a cruel hard landlord to his tenants; but the house, inside, had regained its ancient aspect of comfort under female management, and the scenes of riot common in Hindley's time were not now enacted within its walls. The master was too gloomy to seek companionship with any people, good or bad; and he is yet. This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathy rejected the peace-offering of the terrier, and demanded her own dogs, Charlie and Phoenix. They came limping and hanging their heads; and we set out for home, sadly out of sorts, every one of us. I could not wring from my little lady how she had spent the day; except that, as I supposed, the goal of her pilgrimage was Penistone Crags; and she arrived without adventure to the gate of the farm-house, when Hareton happened to issue forth, attended by some canine followers, who attacked her train. They had a smart battle, before their owners could separate them: that formed an introduction. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where she was going; and asked him to show her the way: finally, beguiling him to accompany her. He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave, and twenty other queer places. But, being in disgrace, I was not favoured with a description of the interesting objects she saw. I could gather, however, that her guide had been a favourite till she hurt his feelings by addressing him as a servant; and Heathcliff's housekeeper hurt hers by calling him her cousin. Then the language he had held to her rankled in her heart; she who was always "love," and "darling," and "queen," and "angel," with everybody at the Grange, to be insulted so shockingly by a stranger! She did not comprehend it; and hard work I had to obtain a promise that she would not lay the grievance before her father. I explained how he objected to the whole household at the Heights, and how sorry he would be to find she had been there; but I insisted most on the fact, that if she revealed my negligence of his orders, he would perhaps be so angry that I should have to leave; and Cathy couldn't bear that prospect: she pledged her word, and kept it for my sake. After all, she was a sweet little girl.

The twelve years following that dismal period, continued Mrs. Dean, were the happiest of my life: my greatest troubles were our little lady's minor illnesses. After the first six months, she grew like a larch, and could walk and talk before the heath blossomed a second time over Mrs. Linton's dust. She was the most winning thing that ever brought sunshine into a desolate house: a real beauty, with the Earnshaws' handsome dark eyes, but the Lintons' fair skin and yellow curling hair. Her spirit was high, and her heart was sensitive and lively. That capacity for intense attachments reminded me of her mother: yet she did not resemble her: for she could be soft and mild as a dove, and she had a gentle voice. Her anger was never furious; her love never fierce: it was deep and tender. However, she was also saucy, like all indulged children. If a servant vexed her, it was always - 'I shall tell papa!' And if her father reproved her, even by a look, you would have thought her heart-broken: I don't believe he ever spoke a harsh word to her. He taught her himself, and she learned rapidly and eagerly. Till she reached the age of thirteen she had not once been beyond Thrushcross Park by herself. Mr. Linton would take her with him a mile or so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her to no one else. The chapel was the only building she had entered other than her own home. She knew nothing of Wuthering Heights and Mr. Heathcliff; and was, apparently, perfectly contented. Sometimes, indeed, while surveying the country from her window, she would ask: 'Ellen, how long will it be before I can walk to the top of those hills? I wonder what lies on the other side - is it the sea?' 'No, Miss Cathy,' I would answer; 'it is hills again, just like these.' 'And what are those golden rocks like when you stand under them?' Penistone Crags particularly attracted her notice; especially when the setting sun shone on their heights. I explained that they were bare masses of stone, with hardly enough earth in their clefts to nourish a stunted tree. 'And why are they bright so long after it is evening here?' she pursued. 'Because they are a great deal higher up than we are,' replied I; 'you could not climb them, they are too high and steep. In winter the frost is always there before it comes to us; and deep into summer I have found snow under their north-east side!' 'Oh, you have been on them!' she cried gleefully. 'Then I can go, too, when I am a woman. Has papa been, Ellen?' 'Papa would tell you, Miss,' I answered, hastily, 'that they are not worth the trouble of visiting. The moors, where you ramble with him, are much nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest place in the world.' 'But I know the park, and I don't know those,' she murmured. 'And I should like to look round me from that tallest point: my pony Minny shall take me some time.' 'Now, am I old enough to go to Penistone Crags?' became her constant question. The road there wound close by Wuthering Heights; and Edgar always answered, 'Not yet, love: not yet.' I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived over a dozen years after leaving her husband. She and Edgar were both delicate; what her last illness was, I am not certain, but she wrote to inform her brother that she was probably dying, and begged him to come to her. She wished to bid him adieu, and deliver her son Linton safely into his hands. My master did not hesitate: reluctant as he usually was to leave home, he flew to her; telling me that in his absence, I must ensure that Catherine did not wander out of the park. He was away three weeks. The first day or two Catherine sat in the library, too sad for either reading or playing: her quiet state caused me little trouble; but it was followed by fretful weariness; and to amuse her, I sent her on her travels round the grounds - on foot, or on a pony; listening to her real and imaginary adventures when she returned. The summer shone; and she took such a taste for this solitary rambling that she often stayed out till tea; and then spent the evenings recounting her fanciful tales. I did not fear her leaving the park, because the gates were generally locked, and I thought she would scarcely venture out alone, even if they had stood wide open. Unluckily, my confidence proved misplaced. Catherine came to me one morning, and said she was an Arabian merchant, going to cross the Desert with his caravan; and I must give her plenty of food for herself, a horse, and three camels, impersonated by a large hound and a couple of pointer dogs. I put some dainties in a basket beside her saddle; and she sprang up gaily, and trotted off with a merry laugh, mocking my advice to avoid galloping. The naughty thing never appeared at tea. The hound, being an old dog and fond of its ease, returned; but neither Cathy, nor the pony, nor the two pointers were visible in any direction: so I sent servants down this path and that, and went wandering in search of her myself. There was a labourer working on the borders of the grounds, and I asked him if he had seen our young lady. 'I saw her this morning,' he replied: 'she leapt her pony over the hedge yonder, and galloped out of sight.' You may guess how I felt at hearing this news. It struck me directly she must have started for Penistone Crags. 'What will become of her?' I exclaimed, making straight for the high-road. I walked swiftly, mile after mile, till a turn brought me in view of Wuthering Heights; but no Catherine could I see. The Crags lie about four miles from the Grange, and I began to fear night would fall before I could reach them. 'What if she has slipped in clambering among them,' I reflected, 'and been killed, or broken some bones?' My suspense was painful; and in hurrying past the Heights it gave me great relief to see Charlie, the fiercest of the pointers, lying under a window, with a bleeding ear. I ran to the door and knocked loudly. A woman whom I knew answered: she had been servant there since the death of Mr. Earnshaw. 'Ah,' said she, 'you are come a-seeking your little mistress! Don't be frightened. She's here safe: but I'm glad you're not the master.' 'He is not at home then?' I panted, breathless. 'No,' she replied: 'both he and Joseph are out, and they won't return this hour or more. Step in and rest a bit.' I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rocking herself in a little chair that had been her mother's when a child. She seemed perfectly at home, laughing and chattering to Hareton - now a great, strong lad of eighteen - who stared at her with curiosity and astonishment: comprehending little of the stream of remarks and questions which she poured forth. 'Well, Miss!' I exclaimed, concealing my joy with an angry face. 'This is your last ride, till papa comes back. I'll not trust you again, you naughty, naughty girl!' 'Aha, Ellen!' she cried gaily, jumping up and running to my side. 'I shall have a pretty story to tell tonight. Have you ever been here before?' 'Put that hat on, and come home at once,' said I. 'I'm dreadfully grieved at you, Miss Cathy: you've done extremely wrong! It's no use pouting and crying: that won't repay the trouble I've had, scouring the country for you after your Papa charged me to keep you safe! You're a cunning little fox.' 'What have I done?' sobbed she. 'Papa charged me nothing: he'll not scold me, Ellen - he's never cross, like you!' 'Come, come!' I repeated. 'Let us have no petulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such a baby!' 'Nay,' said the servant, 'don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs. Dean. We made her stop though she wanted to ride on. Hareton offered to go with her, and I thought he should: it's a wild road over the hills.' Hareton stood with his hands in his pockets, too awkward to speak. 'How long am I to wait?' I continued, ignoring the woman's interference. 'It will be dark in ten minutes. Where is the pony, Miss Cathy? And where is Phoenix? Be quick!' 'The pony is in the yard,' she replied, 'and Phoenix is shut in there. He's been bitten - and so has Charlie. I was going to tell you all about it; but you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve to hear.' I picked up her hat, but she, seeing that the people of the house took her side, began to caper round the room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over and under and behind the furniture. Hareton and the woman laughed, and she joined them; till I cried, in great irritation, 'Well, Miss Cathy, if you knew whose house this is you'd be glad enough to get out.' 'It's your father's, isn't it?' said she, turning to Hareton. 'Nay,' he replied, looking down, and blushing. 'Whose then - your master's?' she asked. He coloured deeper, muttered an oath, and turned away. 'Who is his master?' continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me. 'He talked about "our house," and "our folk." I thought he was the owner's son. And he never said Miss: he should have done, shouldn't he, if he's a servant?' Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this. I silently shook Catherine, and put her hat on her head. 'Get my horse,' she said, addressing Hareton as if he were a stable-boy. 'You may come with me. I want to see where the goblin-hunter rises in the marsh, and to hear about the fairishes, as you call them: but make haste! What's the matter? Get my horse, I say.' 'I'll see thee damned before I be thy servant!' growled the lad. 'You'll see me what?' asked Catherine in surprise. 'Damned - thou saucy witch!' he replied. 'There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company,' I said. 'Nice words to use to a young lady! Don't argue with him. Come, let us find your pony, and begone.' 'But, Ellen,' cried she, staring in astonishment, 'how dare he speak so to me? You wicked creature, I shall tell papa what you said!' Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears sprang into her eyes with indignation. 'You bring the pony,' she exclaimed, turning to the woman, 'and let my dog free this moment!' 'Softly, Miss,' she answered; 'you'll lose nothing by being civil. Mr. Hareton there is your cousin: and I was never hired to serve you.' 'My cousin!' cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh. 'Yes, indeed.' 'Oh, Ellen! don't let them say such things,' she pursued, troubled. 'Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousin is a gentleman's son. That-' she stopped, and wept outright. 'Hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins, Miss Cathy; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.' 'He's not my cousin, Ellen!' she said. I was vexed. I had no doubt that Linton's approaching arrival would now be reported to Mr. Heathcliff; and I was sure that Catherine would seek an explanation about Hareton from her father as soon as he returned. Hareton, recovering from his disgust at being taken for a servant, seemed moved by her distress; and, having fetched the pony to the door, he took a fine terrier pup from the kennel, and putting it into her hand, bid her whist! for he meant naught. She looked at him with awe and horror, then wept anew. I could scarcely help smiling at this antipathy to the poor fellow. He was a well-made, athletic youth, good-looking, strong and healthy, but dressed as a rough farm-worker. Still, he looked as if he had better qualities than his father ever possessed. Mr. Heathcliff, I believe, had not treated him physically ill, thanks to his fearless nature: he had none of the timidity that would have tempted Heathcliff to mistreat him. Instead, Heathcliff had bent his ill-will on making him a brute: he was never taught to read or write; never rebuked for any bad habit, nor led towards virtue, or guarded by a single word against vice. And from what I heard, Joseph had made matters worse by flattering and petting him, because he was the head of the old family. Joseph laid the whole burden of Hareton's faults on Heathcliff's shoulders. He wouldn't correct the lad no matter how ill he behaved. It gave Joseph satisfaction, apparently, to watch him go the worst lengths: he allowed that the lad was ruined and his soul damned, but reflected that Heathcliff must answer for it. I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little of life at Wuthering Heights. The villagers said Mr. Heathcliff was miserly, and a cruel hard landlord to his tenants; but the house, inside, had regained its ancient aspect of comfort under its female management, and there was none of the riot of Hindley's time. The master was too gloomy to seek companionship; and he is still. Well, Miss Cathy rejected the peace-offering of the terrier, and we set out for home with our own dogs, sadly out of sorts. She told me that she had aimed for Penistone Crags; and she arrived at the gate of the farm-house, when Hareton came out with some dogs, which attacked hers before their owners could separate them. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where she was going; and asked him to show her the way. He told her about the Fairy Cave, and other queer places. I gathered that he was a favourite till she hurt his feelings by addressing him as a servant. Then the language he had used rankled; she was shocked to be insulted so by a stranger! She did not comprehend it; and I had hard work to make her promise not to tell her father. I explained how he objected to the whole household at the Heights, and how sorry he would be to find she had been there; but I insisted most on the fact that he might be so angry with me that I should have to leave. Cathy couldn't bear that prospect: she pledged her word, and kept it for my sake. After all, she was a sweet little girl.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 18

What vain weathercocks we are! I, who had determined to hold myself independent of all social intercourse, and thanked my stars that, at length, I had lighted on a spot where it was next to impracticable-I, weak wretch, after maintaining till dusk a struggle with low spirits and solitude, was finally compelled to strike my colours; and under pretence of gaining information concerning the necessities of my establishment, I desired Mrs. Dean, when she brought in supper, to sit down while I ate it; hoping sincerely she would prove a regular gossip, and either rouse me to animation or lull me to sleep by her talk. "You have lived here a considerable time," I commenced; "did you not say sixteen years?" "Eighteen, sir: I came when the mistress was married, to wait on her; after she died, the master retained me for his housekeeper." "Indeed." There ensued a pause. She was not a gossip, I feared; unless about her own affairs, and those could hardly interest me. However, having studied for an interval, with a fist on either knee, and a cloud of meditation over her ruddy countenance, she ejaculated-"Ah, times are greatly changed since then!" "Yes," I remarked, "you've seen a good many alterations, I suppose?" "I have: and troubles too," she said. "Oh, I'll turn the talk on my landlord's family!" I thought to myself. "A good subject to start! And that pretty girl-widow, I should like to know her history: whether she be a native of the country, or, as is more probable, an exotic that the surly _indigenae_ will not recognise for kin." With this intention I asked Mrs. Dean why Heathcliff let Thrushcross Grange, and preferred living in a situation and residence so much inferior. "Is he not rich enough to keep the estate in good order?" I inquired. "Rich, sir!" she returned. "He has nobody knows what money, and every year it increases. Yes, yes, he's rich enough to live in a finer house than this: but he's very near-close-handed; and, if he had meant to flit to Thrushcross Grange, as soon as he heard of a good tenant he could not have borne to miss the chance of getting a few hundreds more. It is strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world!" "He had a son, it seems?" "Yes, he had one-he is dead." "And that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is his widow?" "Yes." "Where did she come from originally?" "Why, sir, she is my late master's daughter: Catherine Linton was her maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff would remove here, and then we might have been together again." "What! Catherine Linton?" I exclaimed, astonished. But a minute's reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine. "Then," I continued, "my predecessor's name was Linton?" "It was." "And who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr. Heathcliff? Are they relations?" "No; he is the late Mrs. Linton's nephew." "The young lady's cousin, then?" "Yes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on the mother's, the other on the father's side: Heathcliff married Mr. Linton's sister." "I see the house at Wuthering Heights has 'Earnshaw' carved over the front door. Are they an old family?" "Very old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them, as our Miss Cathy is of us-I mean, of the Lintons. Have you been to Wuthering Heights? I beg pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how she is!" "Mrs. Heathcliff? she looked very well, and very handsome; yet, I think, not very happy." "Oh dear, I don't wonder! And how did you like the master?" "A rough fellow, rather, Mrs. Dean. Is not that his character? "Rough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone! The less you meddle with him the better." "He must have had some ups and downs in life to make him such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?" "It's a cuckoo's, sir-I know all about it: except where he was born, and who were his parents, and how he got his money at first. And Hareton has been cast out like an unfledged dunnock! The unfortunate lad is the only one in all this parish that does not guess how he has been cheated." "Well, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to tell me something of my neighbours: I feel I shall not rest if I go to bed; so be good enough to sit and chat an hour." "Oh, certainly, sir! I'll just fetch a little sewing, and then I'll sit as long as you please. But you've caught cold: I saw you shivering, and you must have some gruel to drive it out." The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer the fire; my head felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover, I was excited, almost to a pitch of foolishness, through my nerves and brain. This caused me to feel, not uncomfortable, but rather fearful (as I am still) of serious effects from the incidents of to-day and yesterday. She returned presently, bringing a smoking basin and a basket of work; and, having placed the former on the hob, drew in her seat, evidently pleased to find me so companionable. Before I came to live here, she commenced-waiting no farther invitation to her story-I was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton's father, and I got used to playing with the children: I ran errands too, and helped to make hay, and hung about the farm ready for anything that anybody would set me to. One fine summer morning-it was the beginning of harvest, I remember-Mr. Earnshaw, the old master, came downstairs, dressed for a journey; and, after he had told Joseph what was to be done during the day, he turned to Hindley, and Cathy, and me-for I sat eating my porridge with them-and he said, speaking to his son, "Now, my bonny man, I'm going to Liverpool to-day, what shall I bring you? You may choose what you like: only let it be little, for I shall walk there and back: sixty miles each way, that is a long spell!" Hindley named a fiddle, and then he asked Miss Cathy; she was hardly six years old, but she could ride any horse in the stable, and she chose a whip. He did not forget me; for he had a kind heart, though he was rather severe sometimes. He promised to bring me a pocketful of apples and pears, and then he kissed his children, said good-bye, and set off. It seemed a long while to us all-the three days of his absence-and often did little Cathy ask when he would be home. Mrs. Earnshaw expected him by supper-time on the third evening, and she put the meal off hour after hour; there were no signs of his coming, however, and at last the children got tired of running down to the gate to look. Then it grew dark; she would have had them to bed, but they begged sadly to be allowed to stay up; and, just about eleven o'clock, the door-latch was raised quietly, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly killed-he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms. "And at the end of it to be flighted to death!" he said, opening his great-coat, which he held bundled up in his arms. "See here, wife! I was never so beaten with anything in my life: but you must e'en take it as a gift of God; though it's as dark almost as if it came from the devil." We crowded round, and over Miss Cathy's head I had a peep at a dirty, ragged, black-haired child; big enough both to walk and talk: indeed, its face looked older than Catherine's; yet when it was set on its feet, it only stared round, and repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand. I was frightened, and Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how he could fashion to bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own bairns to feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and whether he were mad? The master tried to explain the matter; but he was really half dead with fatigue, and all that I could make out, amongst her scolding, was a tale of his seeing it starving, and houseless, and as good as dumb, in the streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired for its owner. Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and his money and time being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with him at once, than run into vain expenses there: because he was determined he would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children. Hindley and Cathy contented themselves with looking and listening till peace was restored: then, both began searching their father's pockets for the presents he had promised them. The former was a boy of fourteen, but when he drew out what had been a fiddle, crushed to morsels in the great-coat, he blubbered aloud; and Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They entirely refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and I had no more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it might be gone on the morrow. By chance, or else attracted by hearing his voice, it crept to Mr. Earnshaw's door, and there he found it on quitting his chamber. Inquiries were made as to how it got there; I was obliged to confess, and in recompense for my cowardice and inhumanity was sent out of the house. This was Heathcliff's first introduction to the family. On coming back a few days afterwards (for I did not consider my banishment perpetual), I found they had christened him "Heathcliff": it was the name of a son who died in childhood, and it has served him ever since, both for Christian and surname. Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley hated him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went on with him shamefully: for I wasn't reasonable enough to feel my injustice, and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged. He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment: he would stand Hindley's blows without winking or shedding a tear, and my pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his eyes, as if he had hurt himself by accident, and nobody was to blame. This endurance made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting the poor fatherless child, as he called him. He took to Heathcliff strangely, believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious little, and generally the truth), and petting him up far above Cathy, who was too mischievous and wayward for a favourite. So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house; and at Mrs. Earnshaw's death, which happened in less than two years after, the young master had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent's affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries. I sympathised a while; but when the children fell ill of the measles, and I had to tend them, and take on me the cares of a woman at once, I changed my idea. Heathcliff was dangerously sick; and while he lay at the worst he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he felt I did a good deal for him, and he hadn't wit to guess that I was compelled to do it. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me to be less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him give little trouble. He got through, and the doctor affirmed it was in a great measure owing to me, and praised me for my care. I was vain of his commendations, and softened towards the being by whose means I earned them, and thus Hindley lost his last ally: still I couldn't dote on Heathcliff, and I wondered often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen boy; who never, to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of gratitude. He was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible; though knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes. As an instance, I remember Mr. Earnshaw once bought a couple of colts at the parish fair, and gave the lads each one. Heathcliff took the handsomest, but it soon fell lame, and when he discovered it, he said to Hindley- "You must exchange horses with me: I don't like mine; and if you won't I shall tell your father of the three thrashings you've given me this week, and show him my arm, which is black to the shoulder." Hindley put out his tongue, and cuffed him over the ears. "You'd better do it at once," he persisted, escaping to the porch (they were in the stable): "you will have to: and if I speak of these blows, you'll get them again with interest." "Off, dog!" cried Hindley, threatening him with an iron weight used for weighing potatoes and hay. "Throw it," he replied, standing still, "and then I'll tell how you boasted that you would turn me out of doors as soon as he died, and see whether he will not turn you out directly." Hindley threw it, hitting him on the breast, and down he fell, but staggered up immediately, breathless and white; and, had not I prevented it, he would have gone just so to the master, and got full revenge by letting his condition plead for him, intimating who had caused it. "Take my colt, Gipsy, then!" said young Earnshaw. "And I pray that he may break your neck: take him, and be damned, you beggarly interloper! and wheedle my father out of all he has: only afterwards show him what you are, imp of Satan.-And take that, I hope he'll kick out your brains!" Heathcliff had gone to loose the beast, and shift it to his own stall; he was passing behind it, when Hindley finished his speech by knocking him under its feet, and without stopping to examine whether his hopes were fulfilled, ran away as fast as he could. I was surprised to witness how coolly the child gathered himself up, and went on with his intention; exchanging saddles and all, and then sitting down on a bundle of hay to overcome the qualm which the violent blow occasioned, before he entered the house. I persuaded him easily to let me lay the blame of his bruises on the horse: he minded little what tale was told since he had what he wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, of such stirs as these, that I really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as you will hear.

What vain weathercocks we are! I, who had determined to keep away from all society, and thanked my stars that I had found solitude - I, weak wretch, after struggling with low spirits all day, was finally compelled to yield. When Mrs. Dean, the housekeeper, brought in supper, I asked her to sit down while I ate it; hoping she would prove a gossip, and either enliven me or lull me to sleep by her talk. 'You have lived here a considerable time,' I began; 'did you not say sixteen years?' 'Eighteen, sir: I came when the mistress was married, and after she died, the master kept me on as his housekeeper.' 'Indeed.' There followed a pause. She was not a gossip, I feared. However, having meditated for a while, she said, 'Ah, times are greatly changed since then!' 'You've seen a good many changes, I suppose?' 'I have: and troubles too,' she said. 'I'll turn the talk on my landlord's family!' I thought to myself. 'And that pretty girl-widow; I should like to know her history.' So I asked Mrs. Dean why Heathcliff let Thrushcross Grange, and preferred living in such an inferior house as Wuthering Heights. 'Is he not rich enough to keep the estate in good order?' I inquired. 'Rich, sir!' she returned. 'Nobody knows how much money he has. He's rich enough: but he's very close-handed. It's strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world!' 'He had a son?' 'Yes - he is dead.' 'And that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is the son's widow?' 'Yes.' 'Where did she come from originally?' I asked. 'Why, sir, she is my late master's daughter: Catherine Linton was her maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff would move here, and then we might have been together again.' 'What! Catherine Linton?' I exclaimed, astonished. But a minute's reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine. 'Then,' I continued, 'my predecessor's name was Linton?' 'It was.' 'And who is that Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr. Heathcliff? Are they relations?' 'No; he is the late Mrs. Linton's nephew.' 'The young lady's cousin, then?' 'Yes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on the mother's, the other on the father's side: Heathcliff married Mr. Linton's sister.' 'I see the house at Wuthering Heights has "Earnshaw" carved over the front door. Are they an old family?' 'Very old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them, as our Miss Cathy is of the Lintons. Have you been to Wuthering Heights? I beg pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how she is!' 'Mrs. Heathcliff?' I said. 'She looked very well, and very handsome; yet, I think, not very happy.' 'Oh dear, I don't wonder! And how did you like the master?' 'A rough fellow, Mrs. Dean, is he not? 'Rough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone! The less you meddle with him the better.' 'He must have had some ups and downs in life to make him so. Do you know his history?' 'It's a cuckoo's, sir,' she said; 'I know all about it: except where he was born, and who were his parents, and how he got his money. And Hareton has been cast out like an unfledged sparrow! The unfortunate lad is the only one in all this parish that does not guess how he has been cheated.' 'Will you tell me something of them? Be good enough to sit and chat an hour.' 'Oh, certainly, sir! I'll just fetch my sewing, and then I'll sit as long as you please. But you've caught cold, and must have some gruel to drive it out.' The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer the fire. My head felt hot, and the rest of me chilly: moreover, I was excited through my nerves and brain, and fearful of serious effects from the incidents of to-day and yesterday. She returned with a steaming basin and a work-basket; and, having placed the former on the hob, she sat down and began her tale. Before I came to live here, she began, I was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, Hareton's father, and I got used to playing with the children. I ran errands, and helped to make hay, and did work about the farm. One fine summer morning, Mr. Earnshaw, the old master, came downstairs dressed for a journey. He turned to Hindley, and Cathy, and me - for I ate my porridge with them - and he said to his son, 'Now, my bonny man, I'm going to Liverpool today. What shall I bring you? You may choose what you like: only let it be small, for I shall walk there and back: sixty miles each way!' Hindley named a fiddle, and then he asked Miss Cathy. She was hardly six years old, but she could ride any horse in the stable, and she chose a whip. He did not forget me; for he had a kind heart, though he was rather severe sometimes. He promised to bring me a pocketful of apples and pears, and then he kissed his children, said good-bye, and set off. His absence seemed long to us, and often did little Cathy ask when he would be home. Mrs. Earnshaw expected him by supper-time on the third evening; there were no signs of him, however, and at last the children got tired of running down to the gate to look. Then it grew dark; but they begged to be allowed to stay up; and, just about eleven o'clock, the door-latch was raised, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, saying he would not have such another walk for three kingdoms. Then he opened his great-coat, saying, 'See here, wife! I was never so tired out with anything in my life; but you must take it as a gift of God; though it's as dark almost as if it came from the devil.' We crowded round, and over Miss Cathy's head I had a peep at a dirty, ragged, black-haired child; big enough to walk and talk. Indeed, it looked older than Catherine; yet when it was set on its feet, it only stared round, and repeated some gibberish that nobody could understand. I was frightened, and Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to throw it out: asking how he could bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own children to feed? Was he mad? The master tried to explain; but he was half dead with fatigue, and all that I could make out was a tale of his seeing it starving and homeless in the streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired for its owner. Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and he thought it better to take it home with him, rather than leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children. Hindley and Cathy looked on meanwhile: then both began searching their father's pockets for their presents. Hindley was a boy of fourteen, but when he drew out what had been a fiddle, crushed to pieces in the great-coat, he blubbered aloud; and Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, spat at the stupid little thing; earning a blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; so I put it on the landing, hoping it might be gone on the morrow. It crept to Mr. Earnshaw's door, and there he found it. I was obliged to confess, and for my inhumanity was sent out of the house. On coming back a few days afterwards (for I did not consider my banishment perpetual), I found they had christened the child 'Heathcliff'. It was the name of a son who had died in childhood, and it served him both for Christian and surname. Miss Cathy and he were now very close; but Hindley hated him: and to say the truth I did too. We plagued him shamefully, and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf. He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment: he would stand Hindley's blows without shedding a tear, and my pinches only made him draw in a breath and open his eyes, as if he had hurt himself by accident. Old Earnshaw was furious when he discovered his son persecuting the fatherless child. He took to Heathcliff strangely, believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious little, and generally the truth), and favouring him above Cathy, who was mischievous and wayward. So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house. By the time of Mrs. Earnshaw's death, two years after, Hindley had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent's affections; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries. I sympathised; but when the children fell ill with the measles, and I had to tend them, I changed my idea. Heathcliff was dangerously sick; and would have me constantly by his pillow. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him so. He got through it, and the doctor praised me for my care. I was vain of his praise, and softened towards the being by whom I earned it. Still I couldn't dote on Heathcliff, and I wondered what my master saw to admire in the sullen boy, who never gave him any sign of gratitude. He was not insolent, he was simply unfeeling, though knowing perfectly the hold he had on Mr Earnshaw's heart. He had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes. For instance, I remember Mr. Earnshaw once bought a couple of colts, and gave the lads each one. Heathcliff took the handsomest, but it fell lame, and he said to Hindley: 'You must exchange horses with me: I don't like mine. If you won't I shall tell your father of the three thrashings you've given me this week, and show him my bruised arm.' Hindley put out his tongue, and cuffed his ears. 'Off, dog!' he cried, threatening him with an iron weight. 'Throw it,' Heathcliff replied, 'and then I'll tell how you boasted that you would turn me out of doors as soon as he died.' Hindley threw it, hitting him on the breast, and down he fell, but staggered up immediately, breathless and white; and, had not I prevented it, he would have gone like that to the master, and got full revenge. 'Take my colt, Gipsy, then!' said young Earnshaw. 'And I pray that he may break your neck: take him, and be damned, you beggarly imp of Satan. I hope he'll kick out your brains!' Heathcliff had gone to loose the beast, when Hindley finished his speech by knocking him under its feet, and then ran away as fast as he could. I was surprised to see how coolly the child gathered himself up, and went on exchanging saddles, before sitting down on a bundle of hay to recover from the violent blow. I persuaded him to blame his bruises on the horse: he didn't mind what tale was told, since he had what he wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, that I really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as you will hear.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 4

That Friday made the last of our fine days for a month. In the evening the weather broke: the wind shifted from south to north-east, and brought rain first, and then sleet and snow. On the morrow one could hardly imagine that there had been three weeks of summer: the primroses and crocuses were hidden under wintry drifts; the larks were silent, the young leaves of the early trees smitten and blackened. And dreary, and chill, and dismal, that morrow did creep over! My master kept his room; I took possession of the lonely parlour, converting it into a nursery: and there I was, sitting with the moaning doll of a child laid on my knee; rocking it to and fro, and watching, meanwhile, the still driving flakes build up the uncurtained window, when the door opened, and some person entered, out of breath and laughing! My anger was greater than my astonishment for a minute. I supposed it one of the maids, and I cried-"Have done! How dare you show your giddiness here? What would Mr. Linton say if he heard you?" "Excuse me!" answered a familiar voice; "but I know Edgar is in bed, and I cannot stop myself." With that the speaker came forward to the fire, panting and holding her hand to her side. "I have run the whole way from Wuthering Heights!" she continued, after a pause; "except where I've flown. I couldn't count the number of falls I've had. Oh, I'm aching all over! Don't be alarmed! There shall be an explanation as soon as I can give it; only just have the goodness to step out and order the carriage to take me on to Gimmerton, and tell a servant to seek up a few clothes in my wardrobe." The intruder was Mrs. Heathcliff. She certainly seemed in no laughing predicament: her hair streamed on her shoulders, dripping with snow and water; she was dressed in the girlish dress she commonly wore, befitting her age more than her position: a low frock with short sleeves, and nothing on either head or neck. The frock was of light silk, and clung to her with wet, and her feet were protected merely by thin slippers; add to this a deep cut under one ear, which only the cold prevented from bleeding profusely, a white face scratched and bruised, and a frame hardly able to support itself through fatigue; and you may fancy my first fright was not much allayed when I had had leisure to examine her. "My dear young lady," I exclaimed, "I'll stir nowhere, and hear nothing, till you have removed every article of your clothes, and put on dry things; and certainly you shall not go to Gimmerton to-night, so it is needless to order the carriage." "Certainly I shall," she said; "walking or riding: yet I've no objection to dress myself decently. And-ah, see how it flows down my neck now! The fire does make it smart." She insisted on my fulfilling her directions, before she would let me touch her; and not till after the coachman had been instructed to get ready, and a maid set to pack up some necessary attire, did I obtain her consent for binding the wound and helping to change her garments. "Now, Ellen," she said, when my task was finished and she was seated in an easy-chair on the hearth, with a cup of tea before her, "you sit down opposite me, and put poor Catherine's baby away: I don't like to see it! You mustn't think I care little for Catherine, because I behaved so foolishly on entering: I've cried, too, bitterly-yes, more than any one else has reason to cry. We parted unreconciled, you remember, and I sha'n't forgive myself. But, for all that, I was not going to sympathise with him-the brute beast! Oh, give me the poker! This is the last thing of his I have about me:" she slipped the gold ring from her third finger, and threw it on the floor. "I'll smash it!" she continued, striking it with childish spite, "and then I'll burn it!" and she took and dropped the misused article among the coals. "There! he shall buy another, if he gets me back again. He'd be capable of coming to seek me, to tease Edgar. I dare not stay, lest that notion should possess his wicked head! And besides, Edgar has not been kind, has he? And I won't come suing for his assistance; nor will I bring him into more trouble. Necessity compelled me to seek shelter here; though, if I had not learned he was out of the way, I'd have halted at the kitchen, washed my face, warmed myself, got you to bring what I wanted, and departed again to anywhere out of the reach of my accursed-of that incarnate goblin! Ah, he was in such a fury! If he had caught me! It's a pity Earnshaw is not his match in strength: I wouldn't have run till I'd seen him all but demolished, had Hindley been able to do it!" "Well, don't talk so fast, Miss!" I interrupted; "you'll disorder the handkerchief I have tied round your face, and make the cut bleed again. Drink your tea, and take breath, and give over laughing: laughter is sadly out of place under this roof, and in your condition!" "An undeniable truth," she replied. "Listen to that child! It maintains a constant wail-send it out of my hearing for an hour; I sha'n't stay any longer." I rang the bell, and committed it to a servant's care; and then I inquired what had urged her to escape from Wuthering Heights in such an unlikely plight, and where she meant to go, as she refused remaining with us. "I ought, and I wished to remain," answered she, "to cheer Edgar and take care of the baby, for two things, and because the Grange is my right home. But I tell you he wouldn't let me! Do you think he could bear to see me grow fat and merry-could bear to think that we were tranquil, and not resolve on poisoning our comfort? Now, I have the satisfaction of being sure that he detests me, to the point of its annoying him seriously to have me within ear-shot or eyesight: I notice, when I enter his presence, the muscles of his countenance are involuntarily distorted into an expression of hatred; partly arising from his knowledge of the good causes I have to feel that sentiment for him, and partly from original aversion. It is strong enough to make me feel pretty certain that he would not chase me over England, supposing I contrived a clear escape; and therefore I must get quite away. I've recovered from my first desire to be killed by him: I'd rather he'd kill himself! He has extinguished my love effectually, and so I'm at my ease. I can recollect yet how I loved him; and can dimly imagine that I could still be loving him, if-no, no! Even if he had doted on me, the devilish nature would have revealed its existence somehow. Catherine had an awfully perverted taste to esteem him so dearly, knowing him so well. Monster! would that he could be blotted out of creation, and out of my memory!" "Hush, hush! He's a human being," I said. "Be more charitable: there are worse men than he is yet!" "He's not a human being," she retorted; "and he has no claim on my charity. I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death, and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen: and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him: and I would not, though he groaned from this to his dying day, and wept tears of blood for Catherine! No, indeed, indeed, I wouldn't!" And here Isabella began to cry; but, immediately dashing the water from her lashes, she recommenced. "You asked, what has driven me to flight at last? I was compelled to attempt it, because I had succeeded in rousing his rage a pitch above his malignity. Pulling out the nerves with red hot pincers requires more coolness than knocking on the head. He was worked up to forget the fiendish prudence he boasted of, and proceeded to murderous violence. I experienced pleasure in being able to exasperate him: the sense of pleasure woke my instinct of self-preservation, so I fairly broke free; and if ever I come into his hands again he is welcome to a signal revenge. "Yesterday, you know, Mr. Earnshaw should have been at the funeral. He kept himself sober for the purpose-tolerably sober: not going to bed mad at six o'clock and getting up drunk at twelve. Consequently, he rose, in suicidal low spirits, as fit for the church as for a dance; and instead, he sat down by the fire and swallowed gin or brandy by tumblerfuls. "Heathcliff-I shudder to name him! has been a stranger in the house from last Sunday till to-day. Whether the angels have fed him, or his kin beneath, I cannot tell; but he has not eaten a meal with us for nearly a week. He has just come home at dawn, and gone upstairs to his chamber; locking himself in-as if anybody dreamt of coveting his company! There he has continued, praying like a Methodist: only the deity he implored is senseless dust and ashes; and God, when addressed, was curiously confounded with his own black father! After concluding these precious orisons-and they lasted generally till he grew hoarse and his voice was strangled in his throat-he would be off again; always straight down to the Grange! I wonder Edgar did not send for a constable, and give him into custody! For me, grieved as I was about Catherine, it was impossible to avoid regarding this season of deliverance from degrading oppression as a holiday. "I recovered spirits sufficient to bear Joseph's eternal lectures without weeping, and to move up and down the house less with the foot of a frightened thief than formerly. You wouldn't think that I should cry at anything Joseph could say; but he and Hareton are detestable companions. I'd rather sit with Hindley, and hear his awful talk, than with 't' little maister' and his staunch supporter, that odious old man! When Heathcliff is in, I'm often obliged to seek the kitchen and their society, or starve among the damp uninhabited chambers; when he is not, as was the case this week, I establish a table and chair at one corner of the house fire, and never mind how Mr. Earnshaw may occupy himself; and he does not interfere with my arrangements. He is quieter now than he used to be, if no one provokes him: more sullen and depressed, and less furious. Joseph affirms he's sure he's an altered man: that the Lord has touched his heart, and he is saved 'so as by fire.' I'm puzzled to detect signs of the favourable change: but it is not my business. "Yester-evening I sat in my nook reading some old books till late on towards twelve. It seemed so dismal to go upstairs, with the wild snow blowing outside, and my thoughts continually reverting to the kirk-yard and the new-made grave! I dared hardly lift my eyes from the page before me, that melancholy scene so instantly usurped its place. Hindley sat opposite, his head leant on his hand; perhaps meditating on the same subject. He had ceased drinking at a point below irrationality, and had neither stirred nor spoken during two or three hours. There was no sound through the house but the moaning wind, which shook the windows every now and then, the faint crackling of the coals, and the click of my snuffers as I removed at intervals the long wick of the candle. Hareton and Joseph were probably fast asleep in bed. It was very, very sad: and while I read I sighed, for it seemed as if all joy had vanished from the world, never to be restored. "The doleful silence was broken at length by the sound of the kitchen latch: Heathcliff had returned from his watch earlier than usual; owing, I suppose, to the sudden storm. That entrance was fastened, and we heard him coming round to get in by the other. I rose with an irrepressible expression of what I felt on my lips, which induced my companion, who had been staring towards the door, to turn and look at me. "'I'll keep him out five minutes,' he exclaimed. 'You won't object?' "'No, you may keep him out the whole night for me,' I answered. 'Do! put the key in the lock, and draw the bolts.' "Earnshaw accomplished this ere his guest reached the front; he then came and brought his chair to the other side of my table, leaning over it, and searching in my eyes for a sympathy with the burning hate that gleamed from his: as he both looked and felt like an assassin, he couldn't exactly find that; but he discovered enough to encourage him to speak. "'You, and I,' he said, 'have each a great debt to settle with the man out yonder! If we were neither of us cowards, we might combine to discharge it. Are you as soft as your brother? Are you willing to endure to the last, and not once attempt a repayment?' "'I'm weary of enduring now,' I replied; 'and I'd be glad of a retaliation that wouldn't recoil on myself; but treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.' "'Treachery and violence are a just return for treachery and violence!' cried Hindley. 'Mrs. Heathcliff, I'll ask you to do nothing; but sit still and be dumb. Tell me now, can you? I'm sure you would have as much pleasure as I in witnessing the conclusion of the fiend's existence; he'll be _your_ death unless you overreach him; and he'll be _my_ ruin. Damn the hellish villain! He knocks at the door as if he were master here already! Promise to hold your tongue, and before that clock strikes-it wants three minutes of one-you're a free woman!' "He took the implements which I described to you in my letter from his breast, and would have turned down the candle. I snatched it away, however, and seized his arm. "'I'll not hold my tongue!' I said; 'you mustn't touch him. Let the door remain shut, and be quiet!' "'No! I've formed my resolution, and by God I'll execute it!' cried the desperate being. 'I'll do you a kindness in spite of yourself, and Hareton justice! And you needn't trouble your head to screen me; Catherine is gone. Nobody alive would regret me, or be ashamed, though I cut my throat this minute-and it's time to make an end!' "I might as well have struggled with a bear, or reasoned with a lunatic. The only resource left me was to run to a lattice and warn his intended victim of the fate which awaited him. "'You'd better seek shelter somewhere else to-night!' I exclaimed, in rather a triumphant tone. 'Mr. Earnshaw has a mind to shoot you, if you persist in endeavouring to enter.' "'You'd better open the door, you-' he answered, addressing me by some elegant term that I don't care to repeat. "'I shall not meddle in the matter,' I retorted again. 'Come in and get shot, if you please. I've done my duty.' "With that I shut the window and returned to my place by the fire; having too small a stock of hypocrisy at my command to pretend any anxiety for the danger that menaced him. Earnshaw swore passionately at me: affirming that I loved the villain yet; and calling me all sorts of names for the base spirit I evinced. And I, in my secret heart (and conscience never reproached me), thought what a blessing it would be for _him_ should Heathcliff put him out of misery; and what a blessing for _me_ should he send Heathcliff to his right abode! As I sat nursing these reflections, the casement behind me was banged on to the floor by a blow from the latter individual, and his black countenance looked blightingly through. The stanchions stood too close to suffer his shoulders to follow, and I smiled, exulting in my fancied security. His hair and clothes were whitened with snow, and his sharp cannibal teeth, revealed by cold and wrath, gleamed through the dark. "'Isabella, let me in, or I'll make you repent!' he 'girned,' as Joseph calls it. "'I cannot commit murder,' I replied. 'Mr. Hindley stands sentinel with a knife and loaded pistol.' "'Let me in by the kitchen door,' he said. "'Hindley will be there before me,' I answered: 'and that's a poor love of yours that cannot bear a shower of snow! We were left at peace in our beds as long as the summer moon shone, but the moment a blast of winter returns, you must run for shelter! Heathcliff, if I were you, I'd go stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it? You had distinctly impressed on me the idea that Catherine was the whole joy of your life: I can't imagine how you think of surviving her loss.' "'He's there, is he?' exclaimed my companion, rushing to the gap. 'If I can get my arm out I can hit him!' "I'm afraid, Ellen, you'll set me down as really wicked; but you don't know all, so don't judge. I wouldn't have aided or abetted an attempt on even _his_ life for anything. Wish that he were dead, I must; and therefore I was fearfully disappointed, and unnerved by terror for the consequences of my taunting speech, when he flung himself on Earnshaw's weapon and wrenched it from his grasp. "The charge exploded, and the knife, in springing back, closed into its owner's wrist. Heathcliff pulled it away by main force, slitting up the flesh as it passed on, and thrust it dripping into his pocket. He then took a stone, struck down the division between two windows, and sprang in. His adversary had fallen senseless with excessive pain and the flow of blood, that gushed from an artery or a large vein. The ruffian kicked and trampled on him, and dashed his head repeatedly against the flags, holding me with one hand, meantime, to prevent me summoning Joseph. He exerted preterhuman self-denial in abstaining from finishing him completely; but getting out of breath, he finally desisted, and dragged the apparently inanimate body on to the settle. There he tore off the sleeve of Earnshaw's coat, and bound up the wound with brutal roughness; spitting and cursing during the operation as energetically as he had kicked before. Being at liberty, I lost no time in seeking the old servant; who, having gathered by degrees the purport of my hasty tale, hurried below, gasping, as he descended the steps two at once. "'What is ther to do, now? what is ther to do, now?' "'There's this to do,' thundered Heathcliff, 'that your master's mad; and should he last another month, I'll have him to an asylum. And how the devil did you come to fasten me out, you toothless hound? Don't stand muttering and mumbling there. Come, I'm not going to nurse him. Wash that stuff away; and mind the sparks of your candle-it is more than half brandy!' "'And so ye've been murthering on him?' exclaimed Joseph, lifting his hands and eyes in horror. 'If iver I seed a seeght loike this! May the Lord-' "Heathcliff gave him a push on to his knees in the middle of the blood, and flung a towel to him; but instead of proceeding to dry it up, he joined his hands and began a prayer, which excited my laughter from its odd phraseology. I was in the condition of mind to be shocked at nothing: in fact, I was as reckless as some malefactors show themselves at the foot of the gallows. "'Oh, I forgot you,' said the tyrant. 'You shall do that. Down with you. And you conspire with him against me, do you, viper? There, that is work fit for you!' "He shook me till my teeth rattled, and pitched me beside Joseph, who steadily concluded his supplications, and then rose, vowing he would set off for the Grange directly. Mr. Linton was a magistrate, and though he had fifty wives dead, he should inquire into this. He was so obstinate in his resolution, that Heathcliff deemed it expedient to compel from my lips a recapitulation of what had taken place; standing over me, heaving with malevolence, as I reluctantly delivered the account in answer to his questions. It required a great deal of labour to satisfy the old man that Heathcliff was not the aggressor; especially with my hardly-wrung replies. However, Mr. Earnshaw soon convinced him that he was alive still; Joseph hastened to administer a dose of spirits, and by their succour his master presently regained motion and consciousness. Heathcliff, aware that his opponent was ignorant of the treatment received while insensible, called him deliriously intoxicated; and said he should not notice his atrocious conduct further, but advised him to get to bed. To my joy, he left us, after giving this judicious counsel, and Hindley stretched himself on the hearthstone. I departed to my own room, marvelling that I had escaped so easily. "This morning, when I came down, about half an hour before noon, Mr. Earnshaw was sitting by the fire, deadly sick; his evil genius, almost as gaunt and ghastly, leant against the chimney. Neither appeared inclined to dine, and, having waited till all was cold on the table, I commenced alone. Nothing hindered me from eating heartily, and I experienced a certain sense of satisfaction and superiority, as, at intervals, I cast a look towards my silent companions, and felt the comfort of a quiet conscience within me. After I had done, I ventured on the unusual liberty of drawing near the fire, going round Earnshaw's seat, and kneeling in the corner beside him. "Heathcliff did not glance my way, and I gazed up, and contemplated his features almost as confidently as if they had been turned to stone. His forehead, that I once thought so manly, and that I now think so diabolical, was shaded with a heavy cloud; his basilisk eyes were nearly quenched by sleeplessness, and weeping, perhaps, for the lashes were wet then: his lips devoid of their ferocious sneer, and sealed in an expression of unspeakable sadness. Had it been another, I would have covered my face in the presence of such grief. In _his_ case, I was gratified; and, ignoble as it seems to insult a fallen enemy, I couldn't miss this chance of sticking in a dart: his weakness was the only time when I could taste the delight of paying wrong for wrong." "Fie, fie, Miss!" I interrupted. "One might suppose you had never opened a Bible in your life. If God afflict your enemies, surely that ought to suffice you. It is both mean and presumptuous to add your torture to his!" "In general I'll allow that it would be, Ellen," she continued; "but what misery laid on Heathcliff could content me, unless I have a hand in it? I'd rather he suffered less, if I might cause his sufferings and he might _know_ that I was the cause. Oh, I owe him so much. On only one condition can I hope to forgive him. It is, if I may take an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth; for every wrench of agony return a wrench: reduce him to my level. As he was the first to injure, make him the first to implore pardon; and then-why then, Ellen, I might show you some generosity. But it is utterly impossible I can ever be revenged, and therefore I cannot forgive him. Hindley wanted some water, and I handed him a glass, and asked him how he was. "'Not as ill as I wish,' he replied. 'But leaving out my arm, every inch of me is as sore as if I had been fighting with a legion of imps!' "'Yes, no wonder,' was my next remark. 'Catherine used to boast that she stood between you and bodily harm: she meant that certain persons would not hurt you for fear of offending her. It's well people don't _really_ rise from their grave, or, last night, she might have witnessed a repulsive scene! Are not you bruised, and cut over your chest and shoulders?' "'I can't say,' he answered, 'but what do you mean? Did he dare to strike me when I was down?' "'He trampled on and kicked you, and dashed you on the ground,' I whispered. 'And his mouth watered to tear you with his teeth; because he's only half man: not so much, and the rest fiend.' "Mr. Earnshaw looked up, like me, to the countenance of our mutual foe; who, absorbed in his anguish, seemed insensible to anything around him: the longer he stood, the plainer his reflections revealed their blackness through his features. "'Oh, if God would but give me strength to strangle him in my last agony, I'd go to hell with joy,' groaned the impatient man, writhing to rise, and sinking back in despair, convinced of his inadequacy for the struggle. "'Nay, it's enough that he has murdered one of you,' I observed aloud. 'At the Grange, every one knows your sister would have been living now had it not been for Mr. Heathcliff. After all, it is preferable to be hated than loved by him. When I recollect how happy we were-how happy Catherine was before he came-I'm fit to curse the day.' "Most likely, Heathcliff noticed more the truth of what was said, than the spirit of the person who said it. His attention was roused, I saw, for his eyes rained down tears among the ashes, and he drew his breath in suffocating sighs. I stared full at him, and laughed scornfully. The clouded windows of hell flashed a moment towards me; the fiend which usually looked out, however, was so dimmed and drowned that I did not fear to hazard another sound of derision. "'Get up, and begone out of my sight,' said the mourner. "I guessed he uttered those words, at least, though his voice was hardly intelligible. "'I beg your pardon,' I replied. 'But I loved Catherine too; and her brother requires attendance, which, for her sake, I shall supply. Now that she's dead, I see her in Hindley: Hindley has exactly her eyes, if you had not tried to gouge them out, and made them black and red; and her-' "'Get up, wretched idiot, before I stamp you to death!' he cried, making a movement that caused me to make one also. "'But then,' I continued, holding myself ready to flee, 'if poor Catherine had trusted you, and assumed the ridiculous, contemptible, degrading title of Mrs. Heathcliff, she would soon have presented a similar picture! _She_ wouldn't have borne your abominable behaviour quietly: her detestation and disgust must have found voice.' "The back of the settle and Earnshaw's person interposed between me and him; so instead of endeavouring to reach me, he snatched a dinner-knife from the table and flung it at my head. It struck beneath my ear, and stopped the sentence I was uttering; but, pulling it out, I sprang to the door and delivered another; which I hope went a little deeper than his missile. The last glimpse I caught of him was a furious rush on his part, checked by the embrace of his host; and both fell locked together on the hearth. In my flight through the kitchen I bid Joseph speed to his master; I knocked over Hareton, who was hanging a litter of puppies from a chair-back in the doorway; and, blessed as a soul escaped from purgatory, I bounded, leaped, and flew down the steep road; then, quitting its windings, shot direct across the moor, rolling over banks, and wading through marshes: precipitating myself, in fact, towards the beacon-light of the Grange. And far rather would I be condemned to a perpetual dwelling in the infernal regions than, even for one night, abide beneath the roof of Wuthering Heights again." Isabella ceased speaking, and took a drink of tea; then she rose, and bidding me put on her bonnet, and a great shawl I had brought, and turning a deaf ear to my entreaties for her to remain another hour, she stepped on to a chair, kissed Edgar's and Catherine's portraits, bestowed a similar salute on me, and descended to the carriage, accompanied by Fanny, who yelped wild with joy at recovering her mistress. She was driven away, never to revisit this neighbourhood: but a regular correspondence was established between her and my master when things were more settled. I believe her new abode was in the south, near London; there she had a son born a few months subsequent to her escape. He was christened Linton, and, from the first, she reported him to be an ailing, peevish creature. Mr. Heathcliff, meeting me one day in the village, inquired where she lived. I refused to tell. He remarked that it was not of any moment, only she must beware of coming to her brother: she should not be with him, if he had to keep her himself. Though I would give no information, he discovered, through some of the other servants, both her place of residence and the existence of the child. Still, he didn't molest her: for which forbearance she might thank his aversion, I suppose. He often asked about the infant, when he saw me; and on hearing its name, smiled grimly, and observed: "They wish me to hate it too, do they?" "I don't think they wish you to know anything about it," I answered. "But I'll have it," he said, "when I want it. They may reckon on that!" Fortunately its mother died before the time arrived; some thirteen years after the decease of Catherine, when Linton was twelve, or a little more. On the day succeeding Isabella's unexpected visit I had no opportunity of speaking to my master: he shunned conversation, and was fit for discussing nothing. When I could get him to listen, I saw it pleased him that his sister had left her husband; whom he abhorred with an intensity which the mildness of his nature would scarcely seem to allow. So deep and sensitive was his aversion, that he refrained from going anywhere where he was likely to see or hear of Heathcliff. Grief, and that together, transformed him into a complete hermit: he threw up his office of magistrate, ceased even to attend church, avoided the village on all occasions, and spent a life of entire seclusion within the limits of his park and grounds; only varied by solitary rambles on the moors, and visits to the grave of his wife, mostly at evening, or early morning before other wanderers were abroad. But he was too good to be thoroughly unhappy long. _He_ didn't pray for Catherine's soul to haunt him. Time brought resignation, and a melancholy sweeter than common joy. He recalled her memory with ardent, tender love, and hopeful aspiring to the better world; where he doubted not she was gone. And he had earthly consolation and affections also. For a few days, I said, he seemed regardless of the puny successor to the departed: that coldness melted as fast as snow in April, and ere the tiny thing could stammer a word or totter a step it wielded a despot's sceptre in his heart. It was named Catherine; but he never called it the name in full, as he had never called the first Catherine short: probably because Heathcliff had a habit of doing so. The little one was always Cathy: it formed to him a distinction from the mother, and yet a connection with her; and his attachment sprang from its relation to her, far more than from its being his own. I used to draw a comparison between him and Hindley Earnshaw, and perplex myself to explain satisfactorily why their conduct was so opposite in similar circumstances. They had both been fond husbands, and were both attached to their children; and I could not see how they shouldn't both have taken the same road, for good or evil. But, I thought in my mind, Hindley, with apparently the stronger head, has shown himself sadly the worse and the weaker man. When his ship struck, the captain abandoned his post; and the crew, instead of trying to save her, rushed into riot and confusion, leaving no hope for their luckless vessel. Linton, on the contrary, displayed the true courage of a loyal and faithful soul: he trusted God; and God comforted him. One hoped, and the other despaired: they chose their own lots, and were righteously doomed to endure them. But you'll not want to hear my moralising, Mr. Lockwood; you'll judge, as well as I can, all these things: at least, you'll think you will, and that's the same. The end of Earnshaw was what might have been expected; it followed fast on his sister's: there were scarcely six months between them. We, at the Grange, never got a very succinct account of his state preceding it; all that I did learn was on occasion of going to aid in the preparations for the funeral. Mr. Kenneth came to announce the event to my master. "Well, Nelly," said he, riding into the yard one morning, too early not to alarm me with an instant presentiment of bad news, "it's yours and my turn to go into mourning at present. Who's given us the slip now, do you think?" "Who?" I asked in a flurry. "Why, guess!" he returned, dismounting, and slinging his bridle on a hook by the door. "And nip up the corner of your apron: I'm certain you'll need it." "Not Mr. Heathcliff, surely?" I exclaimed. "What! would you have tears for him?" said the doctor. "No, Heathcliff's a tough young fellow: he looks blooming to-day. I've just seen him. He's rapidly regaining flesh since he lost his better half." "Who is it, then, Mr. Kenneth?" I repeated impatiently. "Hindley Earnshaw! Your old friend Hindley," he replied, "and my wicked gossip: though he's been too wild for me this long while. There! I said we should draw water. But cheer up! He died true to his character: drunk as a lord. Poor lad! I'm sorry, too. One can't help missing an old companion: though he had the worst tricks with him that ever man imagined, and has done me many a rascally turn. He's barely twenty-seven, it seems; that's your own age: who would have thought you were born in one year?" I confess this blow was greater to me than the shock of Mrs. Linton's death: ancient associations lingered round my heart; I sat down in the porch and wept as for a blood relation, desiring Mr. Kenneth to get another servant to introduce him to the master. I could not hinder myself from pondering on the question-"Had he had fair play?" Whatever I did, that idea would bother me: it was so tiresomely pertinacious that I resolved on requesting leave to go to Wuthering Heights, and assist in the last duties to the dead. Mr. Linton was extremely reluctant to consent, but I pleaded eloquently for the friendless condition in which he lay; and I said my old master and foster-brother had a claim on my services as strong as his own. Besides, I reminded him that the child Hareton was his wife's nephew, and, in the absence of nearer kin, he ought to act as its guardian; and he ought to and must inquire how the property was left, and look over the concerns of his brother-in-law. He was unfit for attending to such matters then, but he bid me speak to his lawyer; and at length permitted me to go. His lawyer had been Earnshaw's also: I called at the village, and asked him to accompany me. He shook his head, and advised that Heathcliff should be let alone; affirming, if the truth were known, Hareton would be found little else than a beggar. "His father died in debt," he said; "the whole property is mortgaged, and the sole chance for the natural heir is to allow him an opportunity of creating some interest in the creditor's heart, that he may be inclined to deal leniently towards him." When I reached the Heights, I explained that I had come to see everything carried on decently; and Joseph, who appeared in sufficient distress, expressed satisfaction at my presence. Mr. Heathcliff said he did not perceive that I was wanted; but I might stay and order the arrangements for the funeral, if I chose. "Correctly," he remarked, "that fool's body should be buried at the cross-roads, without ceremony of any kind. I happened to leave him ten minutes yesterday afternoon, and in that interval he fastened the two doors of the house against me, and he has spent the night in drinking himself to death deliberately! We broke in this morning, for we heard him sporting like a horse; and there he was, laid over the settle: flaying and scalping would not have wakened him. I sent for Kenneth, and he came; but not till the beast had changed into carrion: he was both dead and cold, and stark; and so you'll allow it was useless making more stir about him!" The old servant confirmed this statement, but muttered: "I'd rayther he'd goan hisseln for t' doctor! I sud ha' taen tent o' t' maister better nor him-and he warn't deead when I left, naught o' t' soart!" I insisted on the funeral being respectable. Mr. Heathcliff said I might have my own way there too: only, he desired me to remember that the money for the whole affair came out of his pocket. He maintained a hard, careless deportment, indicative of neither joy nor sorrow: if anything, it expressed a flinty gratification at a piece of difficult work successfully executed. I observed once, indeed, something like exultation in his aspect: it was just when the people were bearing the coffin from the house. He had the hypocrisy to represent a mourner: and previous to following with Hareton, he lifted the unfortunate child on to the table and muttered, with peculiar gusto, "Now, my bonny lad, you are _mine_! And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!" The unsuspecting thing was pleased at this speech: he played with Heathcliff's whiskers, and stroked his cheek; but I divined its meaning, and observed tartly, "That boy must go back with me to Thrushcross Grange, sir. There is nothing in the world less yours than he is!" "Does Linton say so?" he demanded. "Of course-he has ordered me to take him," I replied. "Well," said the scoundrel, "we'll not argue the subject now: but I have a fancy to try my hand at rearing a young one; so intimate to your master that I must supply the place of this with my own, if he attempt to remove it. I don't engage to let Hareton go undisputed; but I'll be pretty sure to make the other come! Remember to tell him." This hint was enough to bind our hands. I repeated its substance on my return; and Edgar Linton, little interested at the commencement, spoke no more of interfering. I'm not aware that he could have done it to any purpose, had he been ever so willing. The guest was now the master of Wuthering Heights: he held firm possession, and proved to the attorney-who, in his turn, proved it to Mr. Linton-that Earnshaw had mortgaged every yard of land he owned for cash to supply his mania for gaming; and he, Heathcliff, was the mortgagee. In that manner Hareton, who should now be the first gentleman in the neighbourhood, was reduced to a state of complete dependence on his father's inveterate enemy; and lives in his own house as a servant, deprived of the advantage of wages: quite unable to right himself, because of his friendlessness, and his ignorance that he has been wronged.

That week the weather broke: the wind shifted to the north-east, and brought rain first, and then sleet and snow. The primroses and crocuses were hidden under wintry drifts; the larks were silent, the young leaves smitten and blackened. A dreary, dismal morning! I was sitting in the lonely parlour with the child moaning on my knee; rocking it and watching the snowflakes on the window, when the door opened, and someone entered, out of breath and laughing! 'Quiet!' I cried, supposing it to be one of the maids. 'Excuse me!' answered a familiar voice; 'but I cannot stop myself.' The speaker came forward, panting. 'I have run the whole way from Wuthering Heights!' she continued. 'The falls I've had! I'm aching all over! Please order the carriage to take me to Gimmerton, and tell a servant to seek a few clothes in my wardrobe.' The intruder was Mrs. Heathcliff. Her hair was dripping; she was dressed in a light, girlish frock with short sleeves, which clung to her with wet. Her feet were protected merely by thin slippers; add to this a deep cut under one ear, a white face scratched and bruised, and a frame hardly able to support itself through fatigue; and you may fancy my alarm. 'My dear young lady,' I exclaimed, 'I'll stir nowhere, till you have removed your clothes, and put on dry things; and certainly you shall not go to Gimmerton tonight.' 'Certainly I shall,' she said. 'Ah, see how the blood flows down my neck now! The fire does make it smart.' Not until the coachman had been instructed to get ready, did she let me bind her wound and help her to change her clothes. 'Now, Ellen,' she said, when she was seated with a cup of tea, 'you sit down opposite me, and put poor Catherine's baby away: I don't like to see it! You mustn't think I care little for Catherine, because I laughed: I've cried, too, bitterly. We parted unreconciled, and I shan't forgive myself. But, for all that, I was not going to sympathise with him - the brute beast! Oh, give me the poker! This is the last thing of his I have.' She slipped the gold ring from her finger, and threw it on the floor. 'I'll smash it!' she continued, striking it with childish spite, 'and then I'll burn it!' and she threw it among the coals. 'There! he shall buy another, if he gets me back again. He'd be capable of coming to seek me, to tease Edgar. Edgar has not been kind, has he? I won't ask him for help. If I had not learned he was out, I'd have halted at the kitchen, warmed myself, and departed again, to anywhere out of the reach of my accursed - of that goblin! Ah, he was in such a fury! If he had caught me! It's a pity Earnshaw is not his match in strength: I wouldn't have run till I'd seen him beaten, had Hindley been able to do it!' 'Don't talk so fast, Miss!' I interrupted; 'you'll make the cut bleed again. Drink your tea, and give over laughing: laughter is sadly out of place under this roof, and in your condition!' 'True,' she replied. 'Listen to that child wailing! Send it out of my hearing for an hour; I shan't stay any longer.' I rang the bell, and gave it to a servant's care. Then I inquired what had urged her to escape from Wuthering Heights, and where she meant to go, if she would not stay with us. 'I wish to stay,' answered she, 'to cheer Edgar and take care of the baby, but I tell you Heathcliff wouldn't let me! Do you think he could bear to think that we were tranquil, without resolving to poison our comfort? He detests me: when I enter his presence, I see hatred in his face. Because of it, I feel pretty certain that he would not chase me over England; and therefore I have escaped. He has extinguished my love; yet I can recollect how I loved him; and can dimly imagine that I could still love him, if - no, no! Even if he doted on me, his devilish nature would have revealed itself somehow. Catherine had an awfully perverted taste to esteem him so dearly, knowing him so well. Monster! I wish he could be blotted out of creation!' 'Hush, hush! He's a human being,' I said. 'Be more charitable!' 'He's not a human being,' she retorted; 'and he has no claim on my charity. I gave him my heart, and he pinched it to death, and flung it back to me. I would not feel sorry for him if he groaned until his dying day, and wept tears of blood for Catherine! No, indeed, I wouldn't!' And here Isabella began to cry; but immediately dashing the tears away, she went on. 'You asked, what has driven me to flight at last? I had succeeded in rousing his rage to such a pitch that he forgot his prudence, and became murderously violent. I had pleasure in exasperating him: my pleasure woke my instinct of self-preservation, so I broke free. 'Yesterday Mr. Earnshaw should have been at the funeral. He kept himself tolerably sober for the purpose - not going to bed mad at six o'clock and getting up drunk at twelve. Consequently, he rose in suicidal low spirits, sat down by the fire and swallowed gin and brandy by tumblerfuls. 'Heathcliff - I shudder to name him! has been a stranger in the house since last Sunday. He has not eaten a meal with us for nearly a week. He has come home at dawn, and locked himself in his chamber - as if anybody dreamt of wanting his company! There he has stayed, praying to dust and ashes, and confusing God with his own black father. When he was hoarse with prayers, he would be off again; always straight down to the Grange! 'Once he was gone, I recovered my spirits enough to bear Joseph's eternal lectures without weeping. You wouldn't think that I should cry at anything Joseph could say; but he and Hareton are detestable companions. I'd rather sit with Hindley, and hear his awful talk, than with "t' little master" and that odious old man! When Heathcliff is not in, I sit by the fire, near Mr. Earnshaw. He is quieter now than he used to be, if no one provokes him: more sullen and depressed, and less furious. 'Yesterday I sat in my nook reading till almost midnight. With the wild snow blowing outside, my thoughts continually turned to the church-yard and the new-made grave. Hindley sat opposite, his head leant on his hand; he had neither stirred nor spoken for two or three hours. There was no sound through the house but the moaning wind, which shook the windows, and the faint crackling of the coals. Hareton and Joseph were probably fast asleep in bed. 'The doleful silence was broken at length by the sound of the kitchen latch: Heathcliff had returned earlier than usual; owing, I suppose, to the sudden storm. That entrance was fastened, and we heard him coming round to get in by the other. I rose, but Hindley turned to look at me. '"I'll keep him out five minutes," he said. "You won't object?" '"No, you may keep him out the whole night for me," I answered. "Do bolt the door!" 'Earnshaw did this, and then leaned over the table, searching in my eyes for a sympathy with the burning hate that gleamed from his. He looked like an assassin. '"You, and I," he said, "have each a great debt to settle with that man! If we were neither of us cowards, we might combine. Are you willing to endure to the last?" '"I'm weary of enduring now," I replied; "but treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them." '"Treachery and violence are a just return for treachery and violence!" cried Hindley. "Mrs. Heathcliff, I'll ask you to do nothing but sit still and be dumb. I'm sure you would be as glad to see the fiend dead as I would. Damn the hellish villain! He knocks at the door as if he were master here already! Promise to hold your tongue, and you'll be a free woman!" 'He took out his pistol with its knife, and would have put out the candle, when I seized his arm. '"I'll not hold my tongue!" I said; "you mustn't touch him. Let the door remain shut!" '"No! I've formed my resolution, and by God I'll do it!" cried the desperate man. "I'll do you a kindness in spite of yourself, and Hareton justice! Nobody alive would regret me, if I cut my throat this minute - and it's time to make an end!" 'I might as well have struggled with a bear, or reasoned with a lunatic. All I could do was run to a window and warn Heathcliff. '"You'd better seek shelter somewhere else to-night!" I exclaimed, rather triumphantly. "Mr. Earnshaw has a mind to shoot you, if you try to enter." '"You'd better open the door, you ___" he answered, addressing me by a term that I don't care to repeat. '"I shall not meddle," I retorted. "Come in and get shot, if you please. I've done my duty." 'I shut the window and returned to my place by the fire. Earnshaw swore at me, affirming that I loved the villain yet; and calling me all sorts of names. And I, in my secret heart, thought what a blessing it would be for him should Heathcliff put him out of his misery; and what a blessing for me should he send Heathcliff to hell! 'As I sat thinking this, the window behind me was banged on to the floor by a blow, and Heathcliff's black countenance looked through. It was too narrow for his shoulders to follow, and I smiled, exulting in my fancied security. His hair and clothes were white with snow, and his sharp cannibal teeth gleamed through the dark. '"Isabella, let me in, or I'll make you repent!" he snarled. '"I cannot commit murder," I replied. "Mr. Hindley stands guard with a knife and loaded pistol." '"Let me in by the kitchen door," he said. '"Hindley will be there before me," I answered: "and that's a poor love of yours that cannot bear a shower of snow! The moment a blast of winter returns, you must run for shelter! Heathcliff, if I were you, I'd stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it? You had distinctly impressed on me the idea that Catherine was the whole joy of your life: I can't imagine how you think of surviving her loss." '"He's there, is he?" exclaimed Hindley, rushing over. 'I wouldn't have aided an attempt on Heathcliff's life, Ellen. Still, I was fearfully disappointed when he flung himself on Earnshaw's weapon and wrenched it from his grasp. 'The charge exploded, and the knife, in springing back, closed into its owner's wrist. Heathcliff pulled it away, slitting the flesh, and thrust it dripping into his pocket. He then took a stone, broke the window-frame, and sprang in. His enemy had fallen senseless with pain and the gushing flow of blood. The ruffian kicked and trampled on him, and dashed his head repeatedly against the flagstones, holding me with one hand to prevent me from summoning Joseph. He abstained from finishing him off; but finally stopped and dragged Earnshaw's body on to the settle. There he tore off the sleeve of his coat, and bound up the wound with brutal roughness, spitting and cursing. Meanwhile, I lost no time in seeking Joseph, who hurried in, gasping: "What is there to do, now?" '"There's this to do," thundered Heathcliff, "that your master's mad; and should go to an asylum. And how the devil did you come to lock me out, you toothless hound? Don't stand mumbling there. Come, wash that stuff away!" '"Ye've been murthering him!" exclaimed Joseph, lifting his hands and eyes in horror. "If ever I seed a sight like this!" 'Heathcliff pushed him to his knees in the middle of the blood, and flung a towel to him; but instead of drying it up, Joseph joined his hands and began a prayer, which made me laugh. '"Oh, I forgot you," said the tyrant. "You conspire with him against me, do you, viper?" 'He shook me till my teeth rattled, and threw me beside Joseph, who finished his prayer and rose, vowing he would set off for the Grange directly. Mr. Linton was a magistrate, and he should inquire into this. 'He was so obstinate in his resolution, that Heathcliff forced me to recount what had taken place, and tell the old man that Earnshaw was the aggressor. Joseph hastened to give a dose of spirits to his master, who groaned as he regained consciousness. Heathcliff, aware that Earnshaw was ignorant of the beating he'd received while insensible, called him intoxicated; and advised him to get to bed. He then left, and I departed to my own room, marvelling that I had escaped so easily. 'This morning, when I came down, Mr. Earnshaw was sitting by the fire, deadly sick; his evil genius Heathcliff, almost as gaunt and ghastly, leant against the chimney. Neither appeared inclined to dine, so I ate heartily alone. I felt a certain satisfaction and superiority, as I glanced towards my silent companions, with the comfort of a quiet conscience. After I had finished, I took the unusual liberty of drawing near the fire, and kneeling beside Earnshaw. 'Heathcliff did not glance my way, and I gazed up at his features. His forehead, that I once thought so manly, and that I now think so diabolical, was shaded with a heavy cloud; his basilisk eyes were nearly quenched by sleeplessness, and their lashes were wet: his lips, devoid of their ferocious sneer, were sealed in an expression of unspeakable sadness. Had it been another, I would have covered my face in the presence of such grief. In his case, I was gratified; and I couldn't miss this chance of sticking in a dart.' 'Fie, Miss!' I interrupted. 'One might suppose you had never opened a Bible in your life. It is both mean and presumptuous to add your torture to God's judgement!' 'In general I'd agree, Ellen,' she continued; 'but I owe Heathcliff so much. It is utterly impossible I can ever be revenged, and therefore I cannot forgive him. Hindley wanted some water, and I handed him a glass, and asked him how he was. '"Every inch of me is as sore as if I had been fighting with a legion of imps!" he replied. '"No wonder," I remarked. "Catherine used to boast that she stood between you and bodily harm: she meant that certain persons would not hurt you for fear of offending her. It's as well people don't really rise from the grave, or last night she might have witnessed a repulsive scene! Are not you bruised, and cut on your chest and shoulders?" '"What do you mean?" he answered. "Did Heathcliff strike me when I was down?" '"He trampled and kicked you, and dashed you on the ground," I whispered. "And he wanted to tear you with his teeth; he's barely human." 'Mr. Earnshaw looked up at Heathcliff, who, absorbed in his black anguish, saw nothing around him. '"Oh, if God would but give me strength to strangle him in my last agony, I'd go to hell with joy," groaned the impatient Hindley, trying to rise, and sinking back in despair. '"Nay, it's enough that he has murdered one of you," I observed aloud. "At the Grange, everyone knows your sister would have been living now had it not been for Mr. Heathcliff. When I recollect how happy Catherine was before he came - I curse the day." 'Heathcliff's attention was roused, for I saw that he wept and drew his breath in suffocating sighs. I stared at him, and laughed scornfully. The clouded windows of hell flashed a moment towards me; the fiend which usually looked out, however, was dimmed and drowned. '"Go out of my sight," he said, his voice hardly intelligible. '"I beg your pardon," I replied. "But I loved Catherine too; and I need to attend on her brother. Now, that she's dead, I see her in Hindley: he has exactly her eyes, if you had not tried to gouge them out, and her-" '"Get up, wretched idiot, before I stamp you to death!" he cried. '"But then," I continued, standing ready to flee, "if poor Catherine had trusted you, and assumed the ridiculous, degrading title of Mrs. Heathcliff, she wouldn't have borne your abominable behaviour! She would have voiced her hatred and disgust." 'He snatched a dinner-knife from the table and flung it at my head. It struck beneath my ear; but, pulling it out, I sprang to the door and delivered another sentence; which I hope went deep. As I left, he made a furious rush, which was stopped by his host; and both fell locked together on the hearth. 'In my flight through the kitchen I bid Joseph hurry to his master; I knocked over Hareton, who was hanging a litter of puppies from a chair-back; and, blessed as a soul escaped from purgatory, I leaped and flew down the steep road; then shot across the moor, rolling over banks, and wading through marshes towards the Grange. And I would rather dwell in Hell than, even for one night, stay beneath the roof of Wuthering Heights again.' Isabella ceased speaking, and took a drink of tea; then she rose, and put on a shawl. Turning a deaf ear to my entreaties for her to stay another hour, she kissed Edgar's and Catherine's portraits, kissed me likewise, and went to the carriage. She was driven away, never to revisit this neighbourhood: but she wrote regularly to my master. She lived near London; there she had a son born a few months after her escape. He was christened Linton, and, from the first, she reported him to be an ailing, peevish creature. Mr. Heathcliff, meeting me one day in the village, inquired where she lived. I refused to tell. He remarked that it did not matter, only she must beware of coming to her brother. He learnt from some of the other servants about the existence of the child, and often asked about the infant; on hearing its name, he smiled grimly, and observed: 'They wish me to hate it too, do they?' 'I don't think they wish you to know anything about it,' I answered. 'But I'll have it,' he said, 'when I want it. They may reckon on that!' Fortunately its mother died before that time arrived; some thirteen years after the death of Catherine, when Linton was twelve. My master was pleased that Isabella had left her husband, whom he abhorred with an intensity which his mild nature would scarcely seem to allow. So deep was his aversion, that he would not go anywhere where he was likely to see or hear of Heathcliff. He became a hermit: he gave up his office of magistrate, ceased to attend church, avoided the village, and lived a life of seclusion within his park and grounds; only varied by solitary rambles on the moors, and visits to the grave of his wife. But he was too good to be unhappy long. Time brought resignation, and he recalled her memory with ardent, tender love, and hopeful aspiring to the better world. And he had earthly consolation also. For a few days, I said, he seemed unaware of Catherine's baby: but that coldness melted, and soon the tiny thing ruled his heart. She was named Catherine, but he always called her Cathy: it gave her a distinction from the mother, and yet a connection with her. I used to compare Edgar to Hindley Earnshaw, whose conduct was so opposite in similar circumstances. They had both been fond husbands, and were both attached to their children; but Hindley was the worse and weaker man. Linton, on the contrary, trusted God; and God comforted him. One hoped, and the other despaired. Hindley's end was what might have been expected, scarcely six months after his sister's. I learnt of his death from Dr. Kenneth. 'Well, Nelly,' said he, riding into the yard one morning, 'Who's given us the slip now, do you think?' 'Not Mr. Heathcliff, surely?' 'What! would you weep for him?' said the doctor. 'No, Heathcliff's a tough young fellow.' 'Who is it, then?' I repeated impatiently. 'Hindley Earnshaw!' he replied, 'He died true to his character: drunk as a lord. Poor lad! One can't help missing an old companion: though he had the worst tricks that ever man imagined. He's barely twenty-seven, it seems.' This blow was greater to me than the shock of Mrs. Linton's death. I sat down and wept as if for a blood relation. I could not help pondering on the question - 'Had he had fair play?' That idea bothered me so much that I asked leave to go to Wuthering Heights, and assist in the last duties to the dead. Mr. Linton was extremely reluctant to consent, but I pleaded that my old master and foster-brother had a claim on my services as strong as his own. Besides, I reminded him that the child Hareton was his wife's nephew, and that he ought to act as its guardian and inquire how the property was left. He told me to speak to his lawyer; and at length permitted me to go. Calling at the village, I asked the lawyer to accompany me. He shook his head, and advised that Heathcliff should be let alone. He thought that Hareton would be found little more than a beggar. 'His father died in debt,' he said; 'the whole property is mortgaged, and the only chance for Hareton is to allow him an opportunity of creating some interest in Heathcliff's heart, so that he may be kind to him.' When I reached the Heights, I explained that I had come to see everything carried on decently. Mr. Heathcliff said he did not perceive that I was wanted; but I might stay and order the arrangements for the funeral, if I chose. 'Really,' he remarked, 'that fool's body should be buried at the cross-roads, without ceremony. I happened to leave him for ten minutes yesterday, and in that interval he fastened the doors of the house against me, and then spent the night in drinking himself to death! We broke in this morning; and there he was, laid over the settle. I sent Joseph to get Kenneth, but he did not come till the beast had changed into carrion: he was cold and stark.' Joseph confirmed this, but muttered: 'He warn't dead when I left, nowt o' the sort!' At the funeral, Mr. Heathcliff appeared hard and careless. At one time, indeed, he even showed something like exultation: it was when the people were bearing the coffin from the house. Before following it, he lifted Hareton on to the table and said, with peculiar gusto, 'Now, my bonny lad, you are mine! And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another, with the same wind to twist it!' The unsuspecting lad played with Heathcliff's whiskers, and stroked his cheek; but I observed tartly, 'That boy must go back with me to Thrushcross Grange, sir. Mr. Linton has ordered me to take him.' 'Well,' said the scoundrel, 'we'll not argue now: but I have a fancy to try my hand at rearing a young one; so tell your master that I must supply the place of this with my own, if he should attempt to remove it.' This hint was enough to bind our hands. When I repeated it to Edgar, he spoke no more of interfering. Heathcliff was now the master of Wuthering Heights: for Earnshaw had mortgaged every yard of land he owned to supply his mania for gaming; and Heathcliff was the mortgagee. So Hareton became completely dependent on his father's enemy; and now he lives in his own house as a servant with no wages: quite unable to right himself, and ignorant that he has been wronged.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 17

Another week over-and I am so many days nearer health, and spring! I have now heard all my neighbour's history, at different sittings, as the housekeeper could spare time from more important occupations. I'll continue it in her own words, only a little condensed. She is, on the whole, a very fair narrator, and I don't think I could improve her style. In the evening, she said, the evening of my visit to the Heights, I knew, as well as if I saw him, that Mr. Heathcliff was about the place; and I shunned going out, because I still carried his letter in my pocket, and didn't want to be threatened or teased any more. I had made up my mind not to give it till my master went somewhere, as I could not guess how its receipt would affect Catherine. The consequence was, that it did not reach her before the lapse of three days. The fourth was Sunday, and I brought it into her room after the family were gone to church. There was a manservant left to keep the house with me, and we generally made a practice of locking the doors during the hours of service; but on that occasion the weather was so warm and pleasant that I set them wide open, and, to fulfil my engagement, as I knew who would be coming, I told my companion that the mistress wished very much for some oranges, and he must run over to the village and get a few, to be paid for on the morrow. He departed, and I went upstairs. Mrs. Linton sat in a loose white dress, with a light shawl over her shoulders, in the recess of the open window, as usual. Her thick, long hair had been partly removed at the beginning of her illness, and now she wore it simply combed in its natural tresses over her temples and neck. Her appearance was altered, as I had told Heathcliff; but when she was calm, there seemed unearthly beauty in the change. The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness; they no longer gave the impression of looking at the objects around her: they appeared always to gaze beyond, and far beyond-you would have said out of this world. Then, the paleness of her face-its haggard aspect having vanished as she recovered flesh-and the peculiar expression arising from her mental state, though painfully suggestive of their causes, added to the touching interest which she awakened; and-invariably to me, I know, and to any person who saw her, I should think-refuted more tangible proofs of convalescence, and stamped her as one doomed to decay. A book lay spread on the sill before her, and the scarcely perceptible wind fluttered its leaves at intervals. I believe Linton had laid it there: for she never endeavoured to divert herself with reading, or occupation of any kind, and he would spend many an hour in trying to entice her attention to some subject which had formerly been her amusement. She was conscious of his aim, and in her better moods endured his efforts placidly, only showing their uselessness by now and then suppressing a wearied sigh, and checking him at last with the saddest of smiles and kisses. At other times, she would turn petulantly away, and hide her face in her hands, or even push him off angrily; and then he took care to let her alone, for he was certain of doing no good. Gimmerton chapel bells were still ringing; and the full, mellow flow of the beck in the valley came soothingly on the ear. It was a sweet substitute for the yet absent murmur of the summer foliage, which drowned that music about the Grange when the trees were in leaf. At Wuthering Heights it always sounded on quiet days following a great thaw or a season of steady rain. And of Wuthering Heights Catherine was thinking as she listened: that is, if she thought or listened at all; but she had the vague, distant look I mentioned before, which expressed no recognition of material things either by ear or eye. "There's a letter for you, Mrs. Linton," I said, gently inserting it in one hand that rested on her knee. "You must read it immediately, because it wants an answer. Shall I break the seal?" "Yes," she answered, without altering the direction of her eyes. I opened it-it was very short. "Now," I continued, "read it." She drew away her hand, and let it fall. I replaced it in her lap, and stood waiting till it should please her to glance down; but that movement was so long delayed that at last I resumed-"Must I read it, ma'am? It is from Mr. Heathcliff." There was a start and a troubled gleam of recollection, and a struggle to arrange her ideas. She lifted the letter, and seemed to peruse it; and when she came to the signature she sighed: yet still I found she had not gathered its import, for, upon my desiring to hear her reply, she merely pointed to the name, and gazed at me with mournful and questioning eagerness. "Well, he wishes to see you," said I, guessing her need of an interpreter. "He's in the garden by this time, and impatient to know what answer I shall bring." As I spoke, I observed a large dog lying on the sunny grass beneath raise its ears as if about to bark, and then smoothing them back, announce, by a wag of the tail, that some one approached whom it did not consider a stranger. Mrs. Linton bent forward, and listened breathlessly. The minute after a step traversed the hall; the open house was too tempting for Heathcliff to resist walking in: most likely he supposed that I was inclined to shirk my promise, and so resolved to trust to his own audacity. With straining eagerness Catherine gazed towards the entrance of her chamber. He did not hit the right room directly: she motioned me to admit him, but he found it out ere I could reach the door, and in a stride or two was at her side, and had her grasped in his arms. He neither spoke nor loosed his hold for some five minutes, during which period he bestowed more kisses than ever he gave in his life before, I daresay: but then my mistress had kissed him first, and I plainly saw that he could hardly bear, for downright agony, to look into her face! The same conviction had stricken him as me, from the instant he beheld her, that there was no prospect of ultimate recovery there-she was fated, sure to die. "Oh, Cathy! Oh, my life! how can I bear it?" was the first sentence he uttered, in a tone that did not seek to disguise his despair. And now he stared at her so earnestly that I thought the very intensity of his gaze would bring tears into his eyes; but they burned with anguish: they did not melt. "What now?" said Catherine, leaning back, and returning his look with a suddenly clouded brow: her humour was a mere vane for constantly varying caprices. "You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff! And you both come to bewail the deed to me, as if you were the people to be pitied! I shall not pity you, not I. You have killed me-and thriven on it, I think. How strong you are! How many years do you mean to live after I am gone?" Heathcliff had knelt on one knee to embrace her; he attempted to rise, but she seized his hair, and kept him down. "I wish I could hold you," she continued, bitterly, "till we were both dead! I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, 'That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is past. I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!' Will you say so, Heathcliff?" "Don't torture me till I'm as mad as yourself," cried he, wrenching his head free, and grinding his teeth. The two, to a cool spectator, made a strange and fearful picture. Well might Catherine deem that heaven would be a land of exile to her, unless with her mortal body she cast away her moral character also. Her present countenance had a wild vindictiveness in its white cheek, and a bloodless lip and scintillating eye; and she retained in her closed fingers a portion of the locks she had been grasping. As to her companion, while raising himself with one hand, he had taken her arm with the other; and so inadequate was his stock of gentleness to the requirements of her condition, that on his letting go I saw four distinct impressions left blue in the colourless skin. "Are you possessed with a devil," he pursued, savagely, "to talk in that manner to me when you are dying? Do you reflect that all those words will be branded in my memory, and eating deeper eternally after you have left me? You know you lie to say I have killed you: and, Catherine, you know that I could as soon forget you as my existence! Is it not sufficient for your infernal selfishness, that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell?" "I shall not be at peace," moaned Catherine, recalled to a sense of physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of her heart, which beat visibly and audibly under this excess of agitation. She said nothing further till the paroxysm was over; then she continued, more kindly- "I'm not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted: and should a word of mine distress you hereafter, think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake, forgive me! Come here and kneel down again! You never harmed me in your life. Nay, if you nurse anger, that will be worse to remember than my harsh words! Won't you come here again? Do!" Heathcliff went to the back of her chair, and leant over, but not so far as to let her see his face, which was livid with emotion. She bent round to look at him; he would not permit it: turning abruptly, he walked to the fireplace, where he stood, silent, with his back towards us. Mrs. Linton's glance followed him suspiciously: every movement woke a new sentiment in her. After a pause and a prolonged gaze, she resumed; addressing me in accents of indignant disappointment:- "Oh, you see, Nelly, he would not relent a moment to keep me out of the grave. _That_ is how I'm loved! Well, never mind. That is not _my_ Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he's in my soul. And," added she musingly, "the thing that irks me most is this shattered prison, after all. I'm tired of being enclosed here. I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world, and to be always there: not seeing it dimly through tears, and yearning for it through the walls of an aching heart: but really with it, and in it. Nelly, you think you are better and more fortunate than I; in full health and strength: you are sorry for me-very soon that will be altered. I shall be sorry for _you_. I shall be incomparably beyond and above you all. I _wonder_ he won't be near me!" She went on to herself. "I thought he wished it. Heathcliff, dear! you should not be sullen now. Do come to me, Heathcliff." In her eagerness she rose and supported herself on the arm of the chair. At that earnest appeal he turned to her, looking absolutely desperate. His eyes, wide and wet, at last flashed fiercely on her; his breast heaved convulsively. An instant they held asunder, and then how they met I hardly saw, but Catherine made a spring, and he caught her, and they were locked in an embrace from which I thought my mistress would never be released alive: in fact, to my eyes, she seemed directly insensible. He flung himself into the nearest seat, and on my approaching hurriedly to ascertain if she had fainted, he gnashed at me, and foamed like a mad dog, and gathered her to him with greedy jealousy. I did not feel as if I were in the company of a creature of my own species: it appeared that he would not understand, though I spoke to him; so I stood off, and held my tongue, in great perplexity. A movement of Catherine's relieved me a little presently: she put up her hand to clasp his neck, and bring her cheek to his as he held her; while he, in return, covering her with frantic caresses, said wildly- "You teach me now how cruel you've been-cruel and false. _Why_ did you despise me? _Why_ did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you-they'll damn you. You loved me-then what _right_ had you to leave me? What right-answer me-for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, _you_, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart-_you_ have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you-oh, God! would _you_ like to live with your soul in the grave?" "Let me alone. Let me alone," sobbed Catherine. "If I've done wrong, I'm dying for it. It is enough! You left me too: but I won't upbraid you! I forgive you. Forgive me!" "It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands," he answered. "Kiss me again; and don't let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love _my_ murderer-but _yours_! How can I?" They were silent-their faces hid against each other, and washed by each other's tears. At least, I suppose the weeping was on both sides; as it seemed Heathcliff could weep on a great occasion like this. I grew very uncomfortable, meanwhile; for the afternoon wore fast away, the man whom I had sent off returned from his errand, and I could distinguish, by the shine of the western sun up the valley, a concourse thickening outside Gimmerton chapel porch. "Service is over," I announced. "My master will be here in half an hour." Heathcliff groaned a curse, and strained Catherine closer: she never moved. Ere long I perceived a group of the servants passing up the road towards the kitchen wing. Mr. Linton was not far behind; he opened the gate himself and sauntered slowly up, probably enjoying the lovely afternoon that breathed as soft as summer. "Now he is here," I exclaimed. "For heaven's sake, hurry down! You'll not meet any one on the front stairs. Do be quick; and stay among the trees till he is fairly in." "I must go, Cathy," said Heathcliff, seeking to extricate himself from his companion's arms. "But if I live, I'll see you again before you are asleep. I won't stray five yards from your window." "You must not go!" she answered, holding him as firmly as her strength allowed. "You _shall_ not, I tell you." "For one hour," he pleaded earnestly. "Not for one minute," she replied. "I _must_-Linton will be up immediately," persisted the alarmed intruder. He would have risen, and unfixed her fingers by the act-she clung fast, gasping: there was mad resolution in her face. "No!" she shrieked. "Oh, don't, don't go. It is the last time! Edgar will not hurt us. Heathcliff, I shall die! I shall die!" "Damn the fool! There he is," cried Heathcliff, sinking back into his seat. "Hush, my darling! Hush, hush, Catherine! I'll stay. If he shot me so, I'd expire with a blessing on my lips." And there they were fast again. I heard my master mounting the stairs-the cold sweat ran from my forehead: I was horrified. "Are you going to listen to her ravings?" I said, passionately. "She does not know what she says. Will you ruin her, because she has not wit to help herself? Get up! You could be free instantly. That is the most diabolical deed that ever you did. We are all done for-master, mistress, and servant." I wrung my hands, and cried out; and Mr. Linton hastened his step at the noise. In the midst of my agitation, I was sincerely glad to observe that Catherine's arms had fallen relaxed, and her head hung down. "She's fainted, or dead," I thought: "so much the better. Far better that she should be dead, than lingering a burden and a misery-maker to all about her." Edgar sprang to his unbidden guest, blanched with astonishment and rage. What he meant to do I cannot tell; however, the other stopped all demonstrations, at once, by placing the lifeless-looking form in his arms. "Look there!" he said. "Unless you be a fiend, help her first-then you shall speak to me!" He walked into the parlour, and sat down. Mr. Linton summoned me, and with great difficulty, and after resorting to many means, we managed to restore her to sensation; but she was all bewildered; she sighed, and moaned, and knew nobody. Edgar, in his anxiety for her, forgot her hated friend. I did not. I went, at the earliest opportunity, and besought him to depart; affirming that Catherine was better, and he should hear from me in the morning how she passed the night. "I shall not refuse to go out of doors," he answered; "but I shall stay in the garden: and, Nelly, mind you keep your word to-morrow. I shall be under those larch-trees. Mind! or I pay another visit, whether Linton be in or not." He sent a rapid glance through the half-open door of the chamber, and, ascertaining that what I stated was apparently true, delivered the house of his luckless presence.

Another week over, and I am nearer health, and spring! I have now heard all my neighbour's history, at different sittings. I'll continue it in her own words. She is a very fair narrator, and I don't think I could improve her style. Mrs. Dean said: In the evening of my visit to the Heights, I knew as well as if I saw him that Mr. Heathcliff was around Thrushcross Grange. I shunned going out, because I still carried his letter in my pocket, and didn't want to be threatened any more. I had decided not to give it to Catherine till my master went out, as I could not guess how it would affect her. In consequence, it did not reach her for three days. The fourth day was Sunday, and I brought it to her after the family were gone to church. There was a manservant left in the house with me, and we generally locked the doors; but on that occasion the weather was so warm and pleasant that I set them wide open; and, as I knew who would be coming, I told the servant that the mistress wished for some oranges, and he must run over to the village and get a few. He departed, and I went upstairs. Mrs. Linton sat in a white dress, with a light shawl over her shoulders, by the open window, as usual. Her thick, long hair had been cut at the beginning of her illness, and now she wore it simply combed over her temples and neck. Her appearance was altered, as I had told Heathcliff; but when she was calm, there seemed unearthly beauty in the change. The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness; they appeared always to gaze beyond this world. Her pale face and peculiar expression stamped her as one doomed to die. A book lay spread on the sill before her, the wind fluttering its leaves. I believe Linton had laid it there: for he would spend many an hour in trying to interest her in some subject which had formerly amused her. In her better moods she endured his efforts placidly, only now and then suppressing a wearied sigh, and stopping him at last with the saddest of smiles and kisses. At other times, she would turn petulantly away, and hide her face in her hands, or even push him off angrily. Gimmerton chapel bells were still ringing; and the mellow flow of the beck came soothingly on the ear. At Wuthering Heights it always sounded on quiet days following a great thaw or steady rain. And of Wuthering Heights Catherine was thinking as she listened: that is, if she thought or listened at all; she had a vague, distant look. 'There's a letter for you, Mrs. Linton,' I said, gently putting it in her hand. 'You must read it immediately, because it wants an answer. Shall I open it?' 'Yes,' she answered, without looking at it. I opened it - it was very short. Then I stood waiting till she should glance down; but she did not, so at last I said, 'Must I read it, ma'am? It is from Mr. Heathcliff.' There was a start and a troubled gleam of recollection. She lifted the letter, and seemed to read it; and when she came to the signature she sighed: yet still I found she had not gathered its meaning, for she merely pointed to the name, and gazed at me with mournful and questioning eagerness. 'Well, he wishes to see you,' said I. 'He's in the garden, and impatient to know your answer.' As I spoke, I observed a large dog lying outside on the grass raise its ears and wag its tail, announcing that someone approached whom it did not consider a stranger. Mrs. Linton listened breathlessly. A step crossed the hall; the open house was too tempting for Heathcliff to resist walking in. With straining eagerness Catherine gazed towards the doorway. In a stride or two he was at her side, and had her grasped in his arms. He neither spoke nor loosed his hold for some five minutes, during which time he bestowed more kisses than ever he gave in his life before, I daresay: but my mistress had kissed him first, and I plainly saw that he could hardly bear, for downright agony, to look into her face! The instant he beheld her, he knew that there was no prospect of recovery - she was fated, sure to die. 'Oh, Cathy! Oh, my life! how can I bear it?' was the first sentence he uttered, in a tone of despair. He stared at her earnestly; but his eyes burned with anguish, not with tears. 'What now?' said Catherine, leaning back, and returning his look with a clouded brow. 'You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff! And you both bewail the deed to me, as if you were the people to be pitied! I shall not pity you. You have killed me - and grown strong on it! How many years do you mean to live after I am gone?' Heathcliff had knelt to embrace her; he attempted to rise, but she seized his hair, and kept him down. 'I wish I could hold you,' she continued bitterly, 'till we were both dead! I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, "That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw - I loved her long ago; but it is past. I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, at death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I shall be sorry that I must leave them!" Will you say so, Heathcliff?' 'Don't torture me,' cried he, wrenching his head free, and grinding his teeth. They made a strange and fearful picture. Catherine's face had a wild vindictiveness in its white cheek, and a bloodless lip and glittering eye; and she still held some of his hair in her fingers. Her companion had taken her arm so roughly that on his letting go I saw four distinct impressions left blue in the colourless skin. 'Are you possessed with a devil,' he said savagely, 'to talk in that manner to me when you are dying? Those words will be branded in my memory eternally after you have left me. You know you lie to say I have killed you: and, Catherine, you know that I could as soon forget you as my existence! Is it not sufficient for your infernal selfishness, that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell?' 'I shall not be at peace,' moaned Catherine, her heart beating visibly in her agitation. She said nothing further till the paroxysm was over; then she continued, more kindly- 'I'm not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted: and should my words distress you hereafter, think I feel the same distress underground, and forgive me! Come here! You never harmed me in your life. Your anger will be worse to remember than my harsh words! Won't you come here again? Do!' Heathcliff went to the back of her chair, his face white with emotion. She bent round to look at him; but turning abruptly, he walked to the fireplace, where he stood silent, his back towards us. Mrs. Linton's glance followed him suspiciously: after a pause she said to me, with indignant disappointment:- 'Oh, you see, Nelly, he would not relent a moment to keep me out of the grave. That is how I'm loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he's in my soul.' She added musingly, 'The thing that irks me most is this shattered prison. I'm tired of being enclosed here. I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world: not seeing it dimly through tears, but to be really in it. Nelly, you are sorry for me - very soon that will be altered. I shall be sorry for you. I shall be far beyond and above you all. I wonder he won't be near me! Heathcliff, dear! you should not be sullen now. Do come to me, Heathcliff.' In her eagerness she rose and supported herself on the arm of the chair. He turned to her, looking absolutely desperate. His eyes, wide and wet, flashed fiercely on her; his breast heaved convulsively. An instant they held apart, and then Catherine made a spring, and he caught her, and they were locked in an embrace from which I thought my mistress would never be released alive: in fact, she seemed unconscious. He flung himself into the nearest seat, and on my approaching to see if she had fainted, he gnashed at me, and foamed like a mad dog, and held her with greedy jealousy. I did not feel as if he were human; so I stood off, in great perplexity. A movement of Catherine's relieved me a little: she put up her hand to his cheek; while he, covering her with frantic caresses, said wildly- 'You've been cruel - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; your tears will damn you. You loved me - what right had you to leave me? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?' 'Let me alone,' sobbed Catherine. 'If I've done wrong, I'm dying for it. It is enough! You left me too: but I forgive you. Forgive me!' 'It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,' he answered. 'Kiss me again; and don't let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer - but yours! How can I?' They were silent - their faces hidden against each other, and washed by each other's tears. At least, I suppose the weeping was on both sides; as it seemed Heathcliff could weep on a great occasion like this. I grew very uncomfortable, meanwhile; for the afternoon wore fast away, and I could see a crowd outside Gimmerton chapel. 'Service is over,' I announced. 'My master will be here in half an hour.' Heathcliff groaned a curse, and strained Catherine closer: she never moved. Soon I perceived a group of the servants approaching. Mr. Linton was not far behind; he sauntered slowly up, probably enjoying the lovely afternoon. 'Now he is here,' I exclaimed. 'For heaven's sake, hurry down! Do be quick; and stay among the trees till he is inside.' 'I must go, Cathy,' said Heathcliff. 'But I'll see you again before you are asleep. I won't stray five yards from your window.' 'You must not go!' she answered, holding him as firmly as her strength allowed. 'You shall not, I tell you.' 'For one hour,' he pleaded earnestly. 'Not for one minute,' she replied. 'I must - Linton will be up immediately,' he persisted, alarmed. He would have risen - but she clung fast to him, gasping: there was mad resolution in her face. 'No!' she shrieked. 'Oh, don't go. It is the last time! Edgar will not hurt us. Heathcliff, I shall die!' 'Damn the fool! There he is,' cried Heathcliff, sinking back into his seat. 'Hush, my darling! Hush! I'll stay. If he shot me so, I'd expire with a blessing on my lips.' I heard my master mounting the stairs - the cold sweat ran from my forehead: I was horrified. 'Are you going to listen to her ravings?' I said, passionately. 'She does not know what she says. Will you ruin her, because she has not wit to help herself? Get up! That is the most diabolical deed that ever you did. We are all done for.' I wrung my hands, and cried out; and Mr. Linton hastened his step at the noise. In my agitation, I was glad to observe that Catherine's arms had fallen limp, and her head hung down. 'She's fainted, or dead,' I thought: 'so much the better. Far better that she should be dead, than lingering a burden and a misery-maker to all about her.' Edgar sprang to Heathcliff, pale with astonishment and rage. What he meant to do I cannot tell; Heathcliff at once placed the lifeless-looking form in his arms. 'Look there!' he said. 'Help her first - then you shall speak to me!' He walked into the parlour, and sat down. Mr. Linton summoned me, and with great difficulty we managed to restore her to sensation; but she was bewildered; she sighed, and moaned, and knew nobody. Edgar, in his anxiety, forgot her hated friend. I did not. I went, at the earliest opportunity, and begged him to depart; affirming that Catherine was better, and that he should hear from me in the morning how she passed the night. 'I shall stay in the garden,' he answered; 'and, Nelly, mind you keep your word tomorrow. I shall be under those larch-trees.' With a last glance at the door, he left.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 15

Sometimes, while meditating on these things in solitude, I've got up in a sudden terror, and put on my bonnet to go see how all was at the farm. I've persuaded my conscience that it was a duty to warn him how people talked regarding his ways; and then I've recollected his confirmed bad habits, and, hopeless of benefiting him, have flinched from re-entering the dismal house, doubting if I could bear to be taken at my word. One time I passed the old gate, going out of my way, on a journey to Gimmerton. It was about the period that my narrative has reached: a bright frosty afternoon; the ground bare, and the road hard and dry. I came to a stone where the highway branches off on to the moor at your left hand; a rough sand-pillar, with the letters W. H. cut on its north side, on the east, G., and on the south-west, T. G. It serves as a guide-post to the Grange, the Heights, and village. The sun shone yellow on its grey head, reminding me of summer; and I cannot say why, but all at once a gush of child's sensations flowed into my heart. Hindley and I held it a favourite spot twenty years before. I gazed long at the weather-worn block; and, stooping down, perceived a hole near the bottom still full of snail-shells and pebbles, which we were fond of storing there with more perishable things; and, as fresh as reality, it appeared that I beheld my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark, square head bent forward, and his little hand scooping out the earth with a piece of slate. "Poor Hindley!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. I started: my bodily eye was cheated into a momentary belief that the child lifted its face and stared straight into mine! It vanished in a twinkling; but immediately I felt an irresistible yearning to be at the Heights. Superstition urged me to comply with this impulse: supposing he should be dead! I thought-or should die soon!-supposing it were a sign of death! The nearer I got to the house the more agitated I grew; and on catching sight of it I trembled in every limb. The apparition had outstripped me: it stood looking through the gate. That was my first idea on observing an elf-locked, brown-eyed boy setting his ruddy countenance against the bars. Further reflection suggested this must be Hareton, _my_ Hareton, not altered greatly since I left him, ten months since. "God bless thee, darling!" I cried, forgetting instantaneously my foolish fears. "Hareton, it's Nelly! Nelly, thy nurse." He retreated out of arm's length, and picked up a large flint. "I am come to see thy father, Hareton," I added, guessing from the action that Nelly, if she lived in his memory at all, was not recognised as one with me. He raised his missile to hurl it; I commenced a soothing speech, but could not stay his hand: the stone struck my bonnet; and then ensued, from the stammering lips of the little fellow, a string of curses, which, whether he comprehended them or not, were delivered with practised emphasis, and distorted his baby features into a shocking expression of malignity. You may be certain this grieved more than angered me. Fit to cry, I took an orange from my pocket, and offered it to propitiate him. He hesitated, and then snatched it from my hold; as if he fancied I only intended to tempt and disappoint him. I showed another, keeping it out of his reach. "Who has taught you those fine words, my bairn?" I inquired. "The curate?" "Damn the curate, and thee! Gie me that," he replied. "Tell us where you got your lessons, and you shall have it," said I. "Who's your master?" "Devil daddy," was his answer. "And what do you learn from daddy?" I continued. He jumped at the fruit; I raised it higher. "What does he teach you?" I asked. "Naught," said he, "but to keep out of his gait. Daddy cannot bide me, because I swear at him." "Ah! and the devil teaches you to swear at daddy?" I observed. "Ay-nay," he drawled. "Who, then?" "Heathcliff." "I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff." "Ay!" he answered again. Desiring to have his reasons for liking him, I could only gather the sentences-"I known't: he pays dad back what he gies to me-he curses daddy for cursing me. He says I mun do as I will." "And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then?" I pursued. "No, I was told the curate should have his -- teeth dashed down his -- throat, if he stepped over the threshold-Heathcliff had promised that!" I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father that a woman called Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him, by the garden gate. He went up the walk, and entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared on the door-stones; and I turned directly and ran down the road as hard as ever I could race, making no halt till I gained the guide-post, and feeling as scared as if I had raised a goblin. This is not much connected with Miss Isabella's affair: except that it urged me to resolve further on mounting vigilant guard, and doing my utmost to check the spread of such bad influence at the Grange: even though I should wake a domestic storm, by thwarting Mrs. Linton's pleasure. The next time Heathcliff came my young lady chanced to be feeding some pigeons in the court. She had never spoken a word to her sister-in-law for three days; but she had likewise dropped her fretful complaining, and we found it a great comfort. Heathcliff had not the habit of bestowing a single unnecessary civility on Miss Linton, I knew. Now, as soon as he beheld her, his first precaution was to take a sweeping survey of the house-front. I was standing by the kitchen-window, but I drew out of sight. He then stepped across the pavement to her, and said something: she seemed embarrassed, and desirous of getting away; to prevent it, he laid his hand on her arm. She averted her face: he apparently put some question which she had no mind to answer. There was another rapid glance at the house, and supposing himself unseen, the scoundrel had the impudence to embrace her. "Judas! Traitor!" I ejaculated. "You are a hypocrite, too, are you? A deliberate deceiver." "Who is, Nelly?" said Catherine's voice at my elbow: I had been over-intent on watching the pair outside to mark her entrance. "Your worthless friend!" I answered, warmly: "the sneaking rascal yonder. Ah, he has caught a glimpse of us-he is coming in! I wonder will he have the heart to find a plausible excuse for making love to Miss, when he told you he hated her?" Mrs. Linton saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden; and a minute after, Heathcliff opened the door. I couldn't withhold giving some loose to my indignation; but Catherine angrily insisted on silence, and threatened to order me out of the kitchen, if I dared to be so presumptuous as to put in my insolent tongue. "To hear you, people might think you were the mistress!" she cried. "You want setting down in your right place! Heathcliff, what are you about, raising this stir? I said you must let Isabella alone!-I beg you will, unless you are tired of being received here, and wish Linton to draw the bolts against you!" "God forbid that he should try!" answered the black villain. I detested him just then. "God keep him meek and patient! Every day I grow madder after sending him to heaven!" "Hush!" said Catherine, shutting the inner door. "Don't vex me. Why have you disregarded my request? Did she come across you on purpose?" "What is it to you?" he growled. "I have a right to kiss her, if she chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not _your_ husband: _you_ needn't be jealous of me!" "I'm not jealous of you," replied the mistress; "I'm jealous for you. Clear your face: you sha'n't scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff! There, you won't answer. I'm certain you don't." "And would Mr. Linton approve of his sister marrying that man?" I inquired. "Mr. Linton should approve," returned my lady, decisively. "He might spare himself the trouble," said Heathcliff: "I could do as well without his approbation. And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind to speak a few words now, while we are at it. I want you to be aware that I _know_ you have treated me infernally-infernally! Do you hear? And if you flatter yourself that I don't perceive it, you are a fool; and if you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot: and if you fancy I'll suffer unrevenged, I'll convince you of the contrary, in a very little while! Meantime, thank you for telling me your sister-in-law's secret: I swear I'll make the most of it. And stand you aside!" "What new phase of his character is this?" exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in amazement. "I've treated you infernally-and you'll take your revenge! How will you take it, ungrateful brute? How have I treated you infernally?" "I seek no revenge on you," replied Heathcliff, less vehemently. "That's not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don't turn against him; they crush those beneath them. You are welcome to torture me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able. Having levelled my palace, don't erect a hovel and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabel, I'd cut my throat!" "Oh, the evil is that I am _not_ jealous, is it?" cried Catherine. "Well, I won't repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering Satan a lost soul. Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery. You prove it. Edgar is restored from the ill-temper he gave way to at your coming; I begin to be secure and tranquil; and you, restless to know us at peace, appear resolved on exciting a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you'll hit on exactly the most efficient method of revenging yourself on me." The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable: she could neither lay nor control it. He stood on the hearth with folded arms, brooding on his evil thoughts; and in this position I left them to seek the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long. "Ellen," said he, when I entered, "have you seen your mistress?" "Yes; she's in the kitchen, sir," I answered. "She's sadly put out by Mr. Heathcliff's behaviour: and, indeed, I do think it's time to arrange his visits on another footing. There's harm in being too soft, and now it's come to this-." And I related the scene in the court, and, as near as I dared, the whole subsequent dispute. I fancied it could not be very prejudicial to Mrs. Linton; unless she made it so afterwards, by assuming the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me to the close. His first words revealed that he did not clear his wife of blame. "This is insufferable!" he exclaimed. "It is disgraceful that she should own him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two men out of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue with the low ruffian-I have humoured her enough." He descended, and bidding the servants wait in the passage, went, followed by me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommenced their angry discussion: Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed vigour; Heathcliff had moved to the window, and hung his head, somewhat cowed by her violent rating apparently. He saw the master first, and made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed, abruptly, on discovering the reason of his intimation. "How is this?" said Linton, addressing her; "what notion of propriety must you have to remain here, after the language which has been held to you by that blackguard? I suppose, because it is his ordinary talk you think nothing of it: you are habituated to his baseness, and, perhaps, imagine I can get used to it too!" "Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?" asked the mistress, in a tone particularly calculated to provoke her husband, implying both carelessness and contempt of his irritation. Heathcliff, who had raised his eyes at the former speech, gave a sneering laugh at the latter; on purpose, it seemed, to draw Mr. Linton's attention to him. He succeeded; but Edgar did not mean to entertain him with any high flights of passion. "I've been so far forbearing with you, sir," he said quietly; "not that I was ignorant of your miserable, degraded character, but I felt you were only partly responsible for that; and Catherine wishing to keep up your acquaintance, I acquiesced-foolishly. Your presence is a moral poison that would contaminate the most virtuous: for that cause, and to prevent worse consequences, I shall deny you hereafter admission into this house, and give notice now that I require your instant departure. Three minutes' delay will render it involuntary and ignominious.' Heathcliff measured the height and breadth of the speaker with an eye full of derision. "Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!" he said. "It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I'm mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!" My master glanced towards the passage, and signed me to fetch the men: he had no intention of hazarding a personal encounter. I obeyed the hint; but Mrs. Linton, suspecting something, followed; and when I attempted to call them, she pulled me back, slammed the door to, and locked it. "Fair means!" she said, in answer to her husband's look of angry surprise. "If you have not courage to attack him, make an apology, or allow yourself to be beaten. It will correct you of feigning more valour than you possess. No, I'll swallow the key before you shall get it! I'm delightfully rewarded for my kindness to each! After constant indulgence of one's weak nature, and the other's bad one, I earn for thanks two samples of blind ingratitude, stupid to absurdity! Edgar, I was defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick, for daring to think an evil thought of me!" It did not need the medium of a flogging to produce that effect on the master. He tried to wrest the key from Catherine's grasp, and for safety she flung it into the hottest part of the fire; whereupon Mr. Edgar was taken with a nervous trembling, and his countenance grew deadly pale. For his life he could not avert that excess of emotion: mingled anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on the back of a chair, and covered his face. "Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood!" exclaimed Mrs. Linton. "We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of mice. Cheer up! you sha'n't be hurt! Your type is not a lamb, it's a sucking leveret." "I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!" said her friend. "I compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing you preferred to me! I would not strike him with my fist, but I'd kick him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction. Is he weeping, or is he going to faint for fear?" The fellow approached and gave the chair on which Linton rested a push. He'd better have kept his distance: my master quickly sprang erect, and struck him full on the throat a blow that would have levelled a slighter man. It took his breath for a minute; and while he choked, Mr. Linton walked out by the back door into the yard, and from thence to the front entrance. "There! you've done with coming here," cried Catherine. "Get away, now; he'll return with a brace of pistols and half-a-dozen assistants. If he did overhear us, of course he'd never forgive you. You've played me an ill turn, Heathcliff! But go-make haste! I'd rather see Edgar at bay than you." "Do you suppose I'm going with that blow burning in my gullet?" he thundered. "By hell, no! I'll crush his ribs in like a rotten hazel-nut before I cross the threshold! If I don't floor him now, I shall murder him some time; so, as you value his existence, let me get at him!" "He is not coming," I interposed, framing a bit of a lie. "There's the coachman and the two gardeners; you'll surely not wait to be thrust into the road by them! Each has a bludgeon; and master will, very likely, be watching from the parlour-windows to see that they fulfil his orders." The gardeners and coachman were there: but Linton was with them. They had already entered the court. Heathcliff, on the second thoughts, resolved to avoid a struggle against three underlings: he seized the poker, smashed the lock from the inner door, and made his escape as they tramped in. Mrs. Linton, who was very much excited, bade me accompany her upstairs. She did not know my share in contributing to the disturbance, and I was anxious to keep her in ignorance. "I'm nearly distracted, Nelly!" she exclaimed, throwing herself on the sofa. "A thousand smiths' hammers are beating in my head! Tell Isabella to shun me; this uproar is owing to her; and should she or any one else aggravate my anger at present, I shall get wild. And, Nelly, say to Edgar, if you see him again to-night, that I'm in danger of being seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has startled and distressed me shockingly! I want to frighten him. Besides, he might come and begin a string of abuse or complainings; I'm certain I should recriminate, and God knows where we should end! Will you do so, my good Nelly? You are aware that I am no way blamable in this matter. What possessed him to turn listener? Heathcliff's talk was outrageous, after you left us; but I could soon have diverted him from Isabella, and the rest meant nothing. Now all is dashed wrong; by the fool's craving to hear evil of self, that haunts some people like a demon! Had Edgar never gathered our conversation, he would never have been the worse for it. Really, when he opened on me in that unreasonable tone of displeasure after I had scolded Heathcliff till I was hoarse for him, I did not care hardly what they did to each other; especially as I felt that, however the scene closed, we should all be driven asunder for nobody knows how long! Well, if I cannot keep Heathcliff for my friend-if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I'll try to break their hearts by breaking my own. That will be a prompt way of finishing all, when I am pushed to extremity! But it's a deed to be reserved for a forlorn hope; I'd not take Linton by surprise with it. To this point he has been discreet in dreading to provoke me; you must represent the peril of quitting that policy, and remind him of my passionate temper, verging, when kindled, on frenzy. I wish you could dismiss that apathy out of that countenance, and look rather more anxious about me." The stolidity with which I received these instructions was, no doubt, rather exasperating: for they were delivered in perfect sincerity; but I believed a person who could plan the turning of her fits of passion to account, beforehand, might, by exerting her will, manage to control herself tolerably, even while under their influence; and I did not wish to "frighten" her husband, as she said, and multiply his annoyances for the purpose of serving her selfishness. Therefore I said nothing when I met the master coming towards the parlour; but I took the liberty of turning back to listen whether they would resume their quarrel together. He began to speak first. "Remain where you are, Catherine," he said; without any anger in his voice, but with much sorrowful despondency. "I shall not stay. I am neither come to wrangle nor be reconciled; but I wish just to learn whether, after this evening's events, you intend to continue your intimacy with-" "Oh, for mercy's sake," interrupted the mistress, stamping her foot, "for mercy's sake, let us hear no more of it now! Your cold blood cannot be worked into a fever: your veins are full of ice-water; but mine are boiling, and the sight of such chillness makes them dance." "To get rid of me, answer my question," persevered Mr. Linton. "You must answer it; and that violence does not alarm me. I have found that you can be as stoical as anyone, when you please. Will you give up Heathcliff hereafter, or will you give up me? It is impossible for you to be _my_ friend and _his_ at the same time; and I absolutely _require_ to know which you choose." "I require to be let alone!" exclaimed Catherine, furiously. "I demand it! Don't you see I can scarcely stand? Edgar, you-you leave me!" She rang the bell till it broke with a twang; I entered leisurely. It was enough to try the temper of a saint, such senseless, wicked rages! There she lay dashing her head against the arm of the sofa, and grinding her teeth, so that you might fancy she would crash them to splinters! Mr. Linton stood looking at her in sudden compunction and fear. He told me to fetch some water. She had no breath for speaking. I brought a glass full; and as she would not drink, I sprinkled it on her face. In a few seconds she stretched herself out stiff, and turned up her eyes, while her cheeks, at once blanched and livid, assumed the aspect of death. Linton looked terrified. "There is nothing in the world the matter," I whispered. I did not want him to yield, though I could not help being afraid in my heart. "She has blood on her lips!" he said, shuddering. "Never mind!" I answered, tartly. And I told him how she had resolved, previous to his coming, on exhibiting a fit of frenzy. I incautiously gave the account aloud, and she heard me; for she started up-her hair flying over her shoulders, her eyes flashing, the muscles of her neck and arms standing out preternaturally. I made up my mind for broken bones, at least; but she only glared about her for an instant, and then rushed from the room. The master directed me to follow; I did, to her chamber-door: she hindered me from going further by securing it against me. As she never offered to descend to breakfast next morning, I went to ask whether she would have some carried up. "No!" she replied, peremptorily. The same question was repeated at dinner and tea; and again on the morrow after, and received the same answer. Mr. Linton, on his part, spent his time in the library, and did not inquire concerning his wife's occupations. Isabella and he had had an hour's interview, during which he tried to elicit from her some sentiment of proper horror for Heathcliff's advances: but he could make nothing of her evasive replies, and was obliged to close the examination unsatisfactorily; adding, however, a solemn warning, that if she were so insane as to encourage that worthless suitor, it would dissolve all bonds of relationship between herself and him.

I decided that it was my duty to warn Hindley how people talked regarding his bad habits; but I flinched from re-entering his dismal house. One bright, frosty afternoon I passed it on the way to Gimmerton. When I came to a stone sign-post showing the path to the Heights, a gush of child's sensations flowed into my heart. It had been a favourite spot for Hindley and I twenty years before. I gazed at the weather-worn block; and seemed to behold my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark, square head bent forward, and his little hand digging. 'Poor Hindley!' I exclaimed, involuntarily. The child lifted its face and stared straight into mine! It vanished in a twinkling; but immediately I felt a yearning to be at the Heights. Superstition urged me to go: supposing it were a sign of death! As I got nearer to the house I trembled in every limb, for the apparition stood there again, looking through the gate, an elf-haired, brown-eyed boy pressing his face against the bars. Then I realised it was Hareton, my Hareton, not altered greatly since I left him, ten months since. 'God bless thee, darling!' I cried. 'Hareton, it's Nelly, thy nurse.' He retreated, and picked up a large stone. 'I am come to see thy father, Hareton,' I added, guessing that he did not remember me. He hurled his missile. It struck my bonnet; and then from the stammering lips of the little fellow came a string of curses, which grieved more than angered me. I took an orange from my pocket, and offered it to him. 'Who has taught you those fine words, my child?' I inquired. 'The curate?' 'Damn the curate, and thee! Gie me that,' he replied. 'Tell us where you got your lessons, and you shall have it,' said I. 'Who's your master?' 'Devil daddy,' was his answer. 'And what do you learn from daddy?' I continued. He jumped at the fruit; I raised it higher. 'What does he teach you?' I asked. 'Naught,' said he, 'but to keep out of his way. Daddy cannot bide me, because I swear at him.' 'Ah! and the devil teaches you to swear at daddy?' I observed. 'Ay - nay,' he drawled. 'Who, then?' 'Heathcliff.' I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff. 'Ay!' he answered. 'He curses daddy for cursing me. He says I can do as I will.' 'And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then?' 'No, Heathcliff said the curate should have his ___ teeth dashed down his ___ throat, if he came here!' I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father that Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him. He entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared at the door; and I turned and ran down the road as hard as I could, not stopping till I reached the guide-post. The next time Heathcliff came to the Grange, Isabella was feeding pigeons in the courtyard. On seeing her, he surveyed the house-front. I was standing by the kitchen-window, but I drew out of sight. He then stepped across the pavement to her, and said something: she seemed embarrassed, and wanted to get away, but he laid his hand on her arm. She averted her face: he put some question; and then, after another rapid glance at the house, and supposing himself unseen, the scoundrel had the impudence to embrace her. 'Judas! Deceiver!' I cried. 'Who, Nelly?' said Catherine at my elbow. 'Your worthless friend!' I answered. 'Ah, he has seen us - he is coming in! I wonder if he will try to find an excuse for making love to Miss, after he told you he hated her?' We saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden. A minute later, Heathcliff opened the door. I began to express my indignation; but Catherine angrily threatened to send me out of the kitchen, if I did not hold my tongue. 'One might think you were the mistress!' she cried. 'Heathcliff, what are you about? Let Isabella alone! - unless you wish Linton to lock the door against you!' 'God forbid that he should try!' answered the black villain. I detested him just then. 'Every day I grow madder wanting to send him to heaven!' 'Hush!' said Catherine, shutting the door. 'Don't vex me. Why did you do it?' 'What is it to you?' he growled. 'I have a right to kiss her, if she chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not your husband: you needn't be jealous of me!' 'I'm not jealous of you,' replied the mistress; 'I'm jealous for you. Don't scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff! I'm certain you don't.' 'You have treated me infernally - infernally!' said Heathcliff. 'Do you hear? And if you think I don't know it, you are a fool; and if you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot: and if you fancy I'll suffer unrevenged, I'll convince you of the contrary! Meantime, thank you for telling me Isabella's secret: I'll make the most of it. And stand you aside!' 'What this?' exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in amazement. 'I've treated you infernally - how? And how will you take revenge, ungrateful brute?' 'I seek no revenge on you,' replied Heathcliff. 'That's not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves, but they in turn crush those beneath them. You are welcome to torture me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in the same style. If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabella, I'd cut my throat!' 'Oh, the evil is that I am not jealous, is it?' cried Catherine. 'Because you see Edgar and I at peace, secure and tranquil, you are resolved to start a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you'll hit on exactly the most efficient method of revenging yourself on me.' Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and gloomy. Heathcliff stood on the hearth with folded arms, brooding on his evil thoughts. I left them and went to the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine downstairs so long. 'Ellen,' said he, 'have you seen your mistress?' 'Yes; she's in the kitchen, sir,' I answered. 'She's sadly put out by Mr. Heathcliff's behaviour: and, indeed, I think it's time to stop his visits.' And I related the scene in the courtyard. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me to the end. 'This is insufferable!' he exclaimed. 'It is disgraceful that she should have him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two servants out of the hall, Ellen. I have humoured Catherine enough.' He went to the kitchen. Mrs. Linton was scolding Heathcliff with renewed vigour; he had moved to the window, and hung his head. He saw the master first, and made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed, abruptly. 'How is this?' said Linton, addressing her; 'how can you remain here, after the language which that blackguard has used? I suppose you are accustomed to his baseness!' 'Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?' asked the mistress, in a tone of carelessness and contempt. Heathcliff gave a sneering laugh; but Edgar remained calm. 'I've been forbearing with you, sir,' he said quietly; 'because I felt you were only partly responsible for your degraded character; and since Catherine wished to keep up your acquaintance, I agreed - foolishly. Your presence is a moral poison; and I deny you admission into this house, and request your instant departure.' Heathcliff surveyed him with derision. 'Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!' he said. 'It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I'm sorry that you are not worth knocking down!' My master signed me to fetch the servants. Mrs. Linton, however, pulled me back, slammed the door, and locked it. 'Fair means!' she said, in answer to her husband's look of angry surprise. 'If you have not courage to attack him, apologise, or allow yourself to be beaten. No, I'll swallow the key before you shall get it! I have indulged your weak nature, and Heathcliff's bad one, and I earn for thanks blind, stupid ingratitude! Edgar, I was defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick, for daring to think an evil thought of me!' Mr. Edgar tried to wrest the key from her grasp. She flung it into the fire; whereupon he was taken with a nervous trembling, and grew deadly pale. Anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on a chair, and covered his face. 'Oh, heavens! We are vanquished!' exclaimed Mrs. Linton. 'Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of mice. Cheer up! you shan't be hurt!' 'I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!' said Heathcliff. 'That is the shivering thing you preferred to me! I'd like to kick him. Is he weeping, or is he going to faint with fear?' He gave Linton's chair a push. He had better have kept his distance: my master quickly sprang up, and struck him full on the throat a blow that would have levelled a slighter man. It took Heathcliff's breath away, and while he choked, Mr. Linton walked out by the back door. 'Get away now,' cried Catherine. 'He'll return with a brace of pistols and half-a-dozen men. You've done me an ill turn, Heathcliff! But make haste! I'd rather see Edgar at bay than you.' 'Do you suppose I'm going with that blow burning in my gullet?' he thundered. 'By hell, no! I'll crush his ribs like a rotten hazel-nut! If I don't floor him now, I shall murder him some time; so let me get at him!' 'He is not coming,' I interposed, although I was telling a lie. 'There's the coachman and the two gardeners, each with a bludgeon; and master will be watching from the parlour-windows to see them throw you out.' The gardeners and coachman were there, but Linton was with them. Heathcliff, on second thoughts, resolved to avoid a struggle: he seized the poker, smashed the lock from the inner door, and made his escape as they tramped in. Mrs. Linton excitedly bade me come with her upstairs. She did not know what I had told her husband, and I was anxious to keep her in ignorance. 'I'm nearly distracted, Nelly!' she exclaimed. 'A thousand hammers are beating in my head! Tell Isabella to shun me; this uproar is owing to her. And, Nelly, say to Edgar that I'm in danger of being seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has distressed me shockingly! I want to frighten him. Will you do so, my good Nelly? I am no way to blame in this matter. If Edgar had not listened to our conversation, he would never have been the worse for it. Really, when he used that unreasonable tone after I had scolded Heathcliff for him, I did not care what they did to each other! Well, if I cannot have Heathcliff for a friend - if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I'll break their hearts by breaking my own. That will show them! You must remind Edgar of my passionate temper. I wish you could look more anxious about me.' The stolidity with which I received these instructions was, no doubt, rather exasperating: for she was perfectly sincere; but I believed a person who could plan her fits of passion might manage to control herself, and I did not wish to frighten her husband just to serve her selfishness. Therefore I said nothing when the master came to speak to her. 'Remain where you are, Catherine,' he said; without anger, but with much sorrow. 'I shall not stay. I wish only to learn whether, after this evening's events, you intend to continue your intimacy with-' 'Oh, for mercy's sake,' interrupted the mistress, stamping her foot, 'let us hear no more of it now! Your veins are full of ice-water; but mine are boiling, and the sight of your chillness makes them dance.' 'Answer my question,' persevered Mr. Linton. 'Will you give up Heathcliff, or me? It is impossible for you to be my friend and his; and I require to know which you choose.' 'I require to be let alone!' exclaimed Catherine, furiously. 'I demand it! Don't you see I can scarcely stand? Leave me!' She rang the bell till it broke with a twang; I entered leisurely. It was enough to try a saint, such senseless, wicked rages! She lay dashing her head against the arm of the sofa, and grinding her teeth, as if she would crash them to splinters! Mr. Linton stood looking at her in sudden fear. He told me to fetch some water. I brought a glass full; and as she would not drink, I sprinkled it on her face. She stretched herself out stiff, and turned up her eyes like one dead. Linton looked terrified. 'There is nothing the matter,' I whispered. 'She has blood on her lips!' he said, shuddering. 'Never mind!' I answered, tartly. And I told him how she had resolved on exhibiting a fit of frenzy. She heard me; she started up with her eyes flashing, glared about her, and then rushed from the room. The master told me to follow; but she locked her chamber-door against me. As she never came down to breakfast next morning, I went to ask whether she would have some carried up. 'No!' she replied. The same question was repeated at dinner and tea; and again on the day after, and received the same answer. Mr. Linton spent his time in the library, and did not inquire about his wife. He spoke to Isabella about Heathcliff's advances: but he could make nothing of her evasive replies, and was obliged to give her a solemn warning, that if she were so insane as to encourage that worthless suitor, he would disown her.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 11

About twelve o'clock that night was born the Catherine you saw at Wuthering Heights: a puny, seven-months' child; and two hours after the mother died, having never recovered sufficient consciousness to miss Heathcliff, or know Edgar. The latter's distraction at his bereavement is a subject too painful to be dwelt on; its after-effects showed how deep the sorrow sunk. A great addition, in my eyes, was his being left without an heir. I bemoaned that, as I gazed on the feeble orphan; and I mentally abused old Linton for (what was only natural partiality) the securing his estate to his own daughter, instead of his son's. An unwelcomed infant it was, poor thing! It might have wailed out of life, and nobody cared a morsel, during those first hours of existence. We redeemed the neglect afterwards; but its beginning was as friendless as its end is likely to be. Next morning-bright and cheerful out of doors-stole softened in through the blinds of the silent room, and suffused the couch and its occupant with a mellow, tender glow. Edgar Linton had his head laid on the pillow, and his eyes shut. His young and fair features were almost as deathlike as those of the form beside him, and almost as fixed: but _his_ was the hush of exhausted anguish, and _hers_ of perfect peace. Her brow smooth, her lids closed, her lips wearing the expression of a smile; no angel in heaven could be more beautiful than she appeared. And I partook of the infinite calm in which she lay: my mind was never in a holier frame than while I gazed on that untroubled image of Divine rest. I instinctively echoed the words she had uttered a few hours before: "Incomparably beyond and above us all! Whether still on earth or now in heaven, her spirit is at home with God!" I don't know if it be a peculiarity in me, but I am seldom otherwise than happy while watching in the chamber of death, should no frenzied or despairing mourner share the duty with me. I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break, and I feel an assurance of the endless and shadowless hereafter-the Eternity they have entered-where life is boundless in its duration, and love in its sympathy, and joy in its fulness. I noticed on that occasion how much selfishness there is even in a love like Mr. Linton's, when he so regretted Catherine's blessed release! To be sure, one might have doubted, after the wayward and impatient existence she had led, whether she merited a haven of peace at last. One might doubt in seasons of cold reflection; but not then, in the presence of her corpse. It asserted its own tranquillity, which seemed a pledge of equal quiet to its former inhabitant. Do you believe such people are happy in the other world, sir? I'd give a great deal to know. I declined answering Mrs. Dean's question, which struck me as something heterodox. She proceeded: Retracing the course of Catherine Linton, I fear we have no right to think she is; but we'll leave her with her Maker. The master looked asleep, and I ventured soon after sunrise to quit the room and steal out to the pure refreshing air. The servants thought me gone to shake off the drowsiness of my protracted watch; in reality, my chief motive was seeing Mr. Heathcliff. If he had remained among the larches all night, he would have heard nothing of the stir at the Grange; unless, perhaps, he might catch the gallop of the messenger going to Gimmerton. If he had come nearer, he would probably be aware, from the lights flitting to and fro, and the opening and shutting of the outer doors, that all was not right within. I wished, yet feared, to find him. I felt the terrible news must be told, and I longed to get it over; but how to do it I did not know. He was there-at least, a few yards further in the park; leant against an old ash-tree, his hat off, and his hair soaked with the dew that had gathered on the budded branches, and fell pattering round him. He had been standing a long time in that position, for I saw a pair of ousels passing and repassing scarcely three feet from him, busy in building their nest, and regarding his proximity no more than that of a piece of timber. They flew off at my approach, and he raised his eyes and spoke:-"She's dead!" he said; "I've not waited for you to learn that. Put your handkerchief away-don't snivel before me. Damn you all! she wants none of your tears!" I was weeping as much for him as her: we do sometimes pity creatures that have none of the feeling either for themselves or others. When I first looked into his face, I perceived that he had got intelligence of the catastrophe; and a foolish notion struck me that his heart was quelled and he prayed, because his lips moved and his gaze was bent on the ground. "Yes, she's dead!" I answered, checking my sobs and drying my cheeks. "Gone to heaven, I hope; where we may, every one, join her, if we take due warning and leave our evil ways to follow good!" "Did _she_ take due warning, then?" asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer. "Did she die like a saint? Come, give me a true history of the event. How did-?" He endeavoured to pronounce the name, but could not manage it; and compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony, defying, meanwhile, my sympathy with an unflinching, ferocious stare. "How did she die?" he resumed, at last-fain, notwithstanding his hardihood, to have a support behind him; for, after the struggle, he trembled, in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends. "Poor wretch!" I thought; "you have a heart and nerves the same as your brother men! Why should you be anxious to conceal them? Your pride cannot blind God! You tempt him to wring them, till he forces a cry of humiliation." "Quietly as a lamb!" I answered, aloud. "She drew a sigh, and stretched herself, like a child reviving, and sinking again to sleep; and five minutes after I felt one little pulse at her heart, and nothing more!" "And-did she ever mention me?" he asked, hesitating, as if he dreaded the answer to his question would introduce details that he could not bear to hear. "Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody from the time you left her," I said. "She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream-may she wake as kindly in the other world!" "May she wake in torment!" he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. "Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not _there_-not in heaven-not perished-where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer-I repeat it till my tongue stiffens-Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you-haunt me, then! The murdered _do_ haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts _have_ wandered on earth. Be with me always-take any form-drive me mad! only _do_ not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I _cannot_ live without my life! I _cannot_ live without my soul!" He dashed his head against the knotted trunk; and, lifting up his eyes, howled, not like a man, but like a savage beast being goaded to death with knives and spears. I observed several splashes of blood about the bark of the tree, and his hand and forehead were both stained; probably the scene I witnessed was a repetition of others acted during the night. It hardly moved my compassion-it appalled me: still, I felt reluctant to quit him so. But the moment he recollected himself enough to notice me watching, he thundered a command for me to go, and I obeyed. He was beyond my skill to quiet or console! Mrs. Linton's funeral was appointed to take place on the Friday following her decease; and till then her coffin remained uncovered, and strewn with flowers and scented leaves, in the great drawing-room. Linton spent his days and nights there, a sleepless guardian; and-a circumstance concealed from all but me-Heathcliff spent his nights, at least, outside, equally a stranger to repose. I held no communication with him: still, I was conscious of his design to enter, if he could; and on the Tuesday, a little after dark, when my master, from sheer fatigue, had been compelled to retire a couple of hours, I went and opened one of the windows; moved by his perseverance to give him a chance of bestowing on the faded image of his idol one final adieu. He did not omit to avail himself of the opportunity, cautiously and briefly; too cautiously to betray his presence by the slightest noise. Indeed, I shouldn't have discovered that he had been there, except for the disarrangement of the drapery about the corpse's face, and for observing on the floor a curl of light hair, fastened with a silver thread; which, on examination, I ascertained to have been taken from a locket hung round Catherine's neck. Heathcliff had opened the trinket and cast out its contents, replacing them by a black lock of his own. I twisted the two, and enclosed them together. Mr. Earnshaw was, of course, invited to attend the remains of his sister to the grave; he sent no excuse, but he never came; so that, besides her husband, the mourners were wholly composed of tenants and servants. Isabella was not asked. The place of Catherine's interment, to the surprise of the villagers, was neither in the chapel under the carved monument of the Lintons, nor yet by the tombs of her own relations, outside. It was dug on a green slope in a corner of the kirk-yard, where the wall is so low that heath and bilberry-plants have climbed over it from the moor; and peat-mould almost buries it. Her husband lies in the same spot now; and they have each a simple headstone above, and a plain grey block at their feet, to mark the graves.

About twelve o'clock that night was born the Catherine you saw at Wuthering Heights: a puny, seven-months' child; and two hours later the mother died, having never recovered consciousness. Edgar's sorrow sunk deep; and was made worse, in my eyes, by his being left without an heir. As I gazed on the feeble orphan, I mentally abused old Linton for securing his estate to his own daughter, instead of his son's. An unwelcomed infant it was, poor thing! It might have wailed out of life, and nobody cared during those first hours of existence. We redeemed the neglect afterwards; but its beginning was as friendless as its end is likely to be. Next morning, the cheerful light stole in through the blinds of the silent room, and suffused the couch and its occupant with a mellow, tender glow. Edgar Linton had his head laid on the pillow, and his eyes shut. His young, fair features were almost as deathlike as those of the form beside him: but his was the hush of exhausted anguish, and hers of perfect peace. Her brow smooth, her lids closed, her lips smiling, no angel could be more beautiful. Seeing the infinite calm in which she lay, I echoed the words she had uttered a few hours before: 'Far beyond and above us all! Her spirit is at home with God!' I saw in her a repose that neither earth nor hell could break - the Eternity of endless love and joy. How much selfishness there is even in a love like Mr. Linton's, when he so regretted Catherine's blessed release! To be sure, one might have doubted, after her wayward life, whether she merited a haven of peace at last; but her tranquil corpse seemed to promise equal quiet to her spirit. The master looked asleep, and soon after sunrise I stole out into the fresh air. I hoped to see Mr. Heathcliff. If he had remained among the larches all night, he would have heard nothing; but if he had come nearer, he would know, from the lights and the opening and shutting of doors, that all was not right within. I wished, yet feared, to find him. I felt the terrible news must be told; but how to do it I did not know. He was not far away, in the park; leaning against an old ash-tree, his hat off, and his hair soaked with dew. He had been standing a long time in that position, for I saw a pair of thrushes pass scarcely three feet from him, busy in building their nest, and taking no notice of him. He raised his eyes and spoke. 'She's dead! I've not waited for you to learn that. Put your handkerchief away - don't snivel before me. Damn you all! she wants none of your tears!' I was weeping as much for him as her: we do sometimes pity creatures that feel no pity for themselves or others. A foolish notion struck me that he prayed, because his lips moved and his gaze was bent on the ground. 'Yes, she's dead!' I answered. 'Gone to heaven, I hope!' 'Did she die like a saint, then?' asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer. 'Come, tell me truly. How did-?' He tried to say the name, but could not manage it; and compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony, defying my sympathy with a ferocious stare. 'How did she die?' he resumed at last, trembling in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends. 'Poor wretch!' I thought; 'you have a heart and nerves the same as any man! Why try to conceal them?' 'Quietly as a lamb!' I answered, aloud. 'She drew a sigh, and stretched, and sank again to sleep; and I felt one little pulse at her heart, and nothing more!' 'And - did she ever mention me?' he asked, hesitating, as if he dreaded the answer. 'Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody,' I said. 'She lies with a sweet smile on her face. Her life closed in a gentle dream. May she wake as kindly in the other world!' 'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in sudden passion. 'Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there - not in heaven - not perished - where? I pray one prayer - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you - haunt me, then! Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!' He dashed his head against the trunk, and howled like a savage beast. There were splashes of blood on the tree, and his hand and forehead were both stained; probably he had been doing the same thing through the night. It appalled me. But when he noticed me watching, he thundered a command for me to go, and I obeyed. He was beyond my skill to quiet or console! Mrs. Linton's funeral was to take place on the following Friday. Till then her coffin remained uncovered, strewn with flowers, in the drawing-room. Linton spent his days and nights there, a sleepless guardian; and - unknown to anyone but me - Heathcliff spent his nights outside, equally sleepless. I did not speak to him: still, I knew he planned to enter, if he could; and on the Tuesday, after dark, when my master had retired, I opened one of the windows, to give Heathcliff a chance of saying one last farewell. He entered cautiously and briefly, not betraying his presence by the slightest noise. Indeed, I shouldn't have known that he had been there, except for the disarrangement of the drapery about the corpse's face; and on the floor lay a curl of light hair, fastened with a silver thread, which I found had been taken from a locket hung round Catherine's neck. Heathcliff had opened it and cast out its contents, replacing them by a black lock of his own. I twisted the two, and enclosed them together. Mr. Hindley Earnshaw was, of course, invited to the funeral, but he never came; so that, besides her husband, the mourners were wholly composed of tenants and servants. Isabella was not asked. To the surprise of the villagers, Catherine was buried neither in the chapel under the Lintons' monument, nor by the tombs of her own relations, outside. Her resting-place was on a green slope in a corner of the church-yard, where the wall is so low that heather and bilberry-plants have climbed over it from the moor. Her husband lies in the same spot now; and they have each a simple headstone to mark their graves.

Wuthering Heights

Chapter 16