________________________________________________
_ FOR two months the fugitives remained absent; in those two months,
Mrs. Linton encountered and conquered the worst shock of what was
denominated a brain fever. No mother could have nursed an only
child more devotedly than Edgar tended her. Day and night he was
watching, and patiently enduring all the annoyances that irritable
nerves and a shaken reason could inflict; and, though Kenneth
remarked that what he saved from the grave would only recompense
his care by forming the source of constant future anxiety - in
fact, that his health and strength were being sacrificed to
preserve a mere ruin of humanity - he knew no limits in gratitude
and joy when Catherine's life was declared out of danger; and hour
after hour he would sit beside her, tracing the gradual return to
bodily health, and flattering his too sanguine hopes with the
illusion that her mind would settle back to its right balance also,
and she would soon be entirely her former self.
The first time she left her chamber was at the commencement of the
following March. Mr. Linton had put on her pillow, in the morning,
a handful of golden crocuses; her eye, long stranger to any gleam
of pleasure, caught them in waking, and shone delighted as she
gathered them eagerly together.
'These are the earliest flowers at the Heights,' she exclaimed.
'They remind me of soft thaw winds, and warm sunshine, and nearly
melted snow. Edgar, is there not a south wind, and is not the snow
almost gone?'
'The snow is quite gone down here, darling,' replied her husband;
'and I only see two white spots on the whole range of moors: the
sky is blue, and the larks are singing, and the becks and brooks
are all brim full. Catherine, last spring at this time, I was
longing to have you under this roof; now, I wish you were a mile or
two up those hills: the air blows so sweetly, I feel that it would
cure you.'
'I shall never be there but once more,' said the invalid; 'and then
you'll leave me, and I shall remain for ever. Next spring you'll
long again to have me under this roof, and you'll look back and
think you were happy to-day.'
Linton lavished on her the kindest caresses, and tried to cheer her
by the fondest words; but, vaguely regarding the flowers, she let
the tears collect on her lashes and stream down her cheeks
unheeding. We knew she was really better, and, therefore, decided
that long confinement to a single place produced much of this
despondency, and it might be partially removed by a change of
scene. The master told me to light a fire in the many-weeks'
deserted parlour, and to set an easy-chair in the sunshine by the
window; and then he brought her down, and she sat a long while
enjoying the genial heat, and, as we expected, revived by the
objects round her: which, though familiar, were free from the
dreary associations investing her hated sick chamber. By evening
she seemed greatly exhausted; yet no arguments could persuade her
to return to that apartment, and I had to arrange the parlour sofa
for her bed, till another room could be prepared. To obviate the
fatigue of mounting and descending the stairs, we fitted up this,
where you lie at present - on the same floor with the parlour; and
she was soon strong enough to move from one to the other, leaning
on Edgar's arm. Ah, I thought myself, she might recover, so waited
on as she was. And there was double cause to desire it, for on her
existence depended that of another: we cherished the hope that in
a little while Mr. Linton's heart would be gladdened, and his lands
secured from a stranger's gripe, by the birth of an heir.
I should mention that Isabella sent to her brother, some six weeks
from her departure, a short note, announcing her marriage with
Heathcliff. It appeared dry and cold; but at the bottom was dotted
in with pencil an obscure apology, and an entreaty for kind
remembrance and reconciliation, if her proceeding had offended him:
asserting that she could not help it then, and being done, she had
now no power to repeal it. Linton did not reply to this, I
believe; and, in a fortnight more, I got a long letter, which I
considered odd, coming from the pen of a bride just out of the
honeymoon. I'll read it: for I keep it yet. Any relic of the
dead is precious, if they were valued living.
DEAR ELLEN, it begins, - I came last night to Wuthering Heights,
and heard, for the first time, that Catherine has been, and is yet,
very ill. I must not write to her, I suppose, and my brother is
either too angry or too distressed to answer what I sent him.
Still, I must write to somebody, and the only choice left me is
you.
Inform Edgar that I'd give the world to see his face again - that
my heart returned to Thrushcross Grange in twenty-four hours after
I left it, and is there at this moment, full of warm feelings for
him, and Catherine! I CAN'T FOLLOW IT THOUGH - (these words are
underlined) - they need not expect me, and they may draw what
conclusions they please; taking care, however, to lay nothing at
the door of my weak will or deficient affection.
The remainder of the letter is for yourself alone. I want to ask
you two questions: the first is, - How did you contrive to
preserve the common sympathies of human nature when you resided
here? I cannot recognise any sentiment which those around share
with me.
The second question I have great interest in; it is this - Is Mr.
Heathcliff a man? If so, is he mad? And if not, is he a devil? I
sha'n't tell my reasons for making this inquiry; but I beseech you
to explain, if you can, what I have married: that is, when you
call to see me; and you must call, Ellen, very soon. Don't write,
but come, and bring me something from Edgar.
Now, you shall hear how I have been received in my new home, as I
am led to imagine the Heights will be. It is to amuse myself that
I dwell on such subjects as the lack of external comforts: they
never occupy my thoughts, except at the moment when I miss them. I
should laugh and dance for joy, if I found their absence was the
total of my miseries, and the rest was an unnatural dream!
The sun set behind the Grange as we turned on to the moors; by
that, I judged it to be six o'clock; and my companion halted half
an hour, to inspect the park, and the gardens, and, probably, the
place itself, as well as he could; so it was dark when we
dismounted in the paved yard of the farm-house, and your old
fellow-servant, Joseph, issued out to receive us by the light of a
dip candle. He did it with a courtesy that redounded to his
credit. His first act was to elevate his torch to a level with my
face, squint malignantly, project his under-lip, and turn away.
Then he took the two horses, and led them into the stables;
reappearing for the purpose of locking the outer gate, as if we
lived in an ancient castle.
Heathcliff stayed to speak to him, and I entered the kitchen - a
dingy, untidy hole; I daresay you would not know it, it is so
changed since it was in your charge. By the fire stood a ruffianly
child, strong in limb and dirty in garb, with a look of Catherine
in his eyes and about his mouth.
'This is Edgar's legal nephew,' I reflected - 'mine in a manner; I
must shake hands, and - yes - I must kiss him. It is right to
establish a good understanding at the beginning.'
I approached, and, attempting to take his chubby fist, said - 'How
do you do, my dear?'
He replied in a jargon I did not comprehend.
'Shall you and I be friends, Hareton?' was my next essay at
conversation.
An oath, and a threat to set Throttler on me if I did not 'frame
off' rewarded my perseverance.
'Hey, Throttler, lad!' whispered the little wretch, rousing a half-
bred bull-dog from its lair in a corner. 'Now, wilt thou be
ganging?' he asked authoritatively.
Love for my life urged a compliance; I stepped over the threshold
to wait till the others should enter. Mr. Heathcliff was nowhere
visible; and Joseph, whom I followed to the stables, and requested
to accompany me in, after staring and muttering to himself, screwed
up his nose and replied - 'Mim! mim! mim! Did iver Christian body
hear aught like it? Mincing un' munching! How can I tell whet ye
say?'
'I say, I wish you to come with me into the house!' I cried,
thinking him deaf, yet highly disgusted at his rudeness.
'None o' me! I getten summut else to do,' he answered, and
continued his work; moving his lantern jaws meanwhile, and
surveying my dress and countenance (the former a great deal too
fine, but the latter, I'm sure, as sad as he could desire) with
sovereign contempt.
I walked round the yard, and through a wicket, to another door, at
which I took the liberty of knocking, in hopes some more civil
servant might show himself. After a short suspense, it was opened
by a tall, gaunt man, without neckerchief, and otherwise extremely
slovenly; his features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung
on his shoulders; and HIS eyes, too, were like a ghostly
Catherine's with all their beauty annihilated.
'What's your business here?' he demanded, grimly. 'Who are you?'
'My name was Isabella Linton,' I replied. 'You've seen me before,
sir. I'm lately married to Mr. Heathcliff, and he has brought me
here - I suppose, by your permission.'
'Is he come back, then?' asked the hermit, glaring like a hungry
wolf.
'Yes - we came just now,' I said; 'but he left me by the kitchen
door; and when I would have gone in, your little boy played
sentinel over the place, and frightened me off by the help of a
bull-dog.'
'It's well the hellish villain has kept his word!' growled my
future host, searching the darkness beyond me in expectation of
discovering Heathcliff; and then he indulged in a soliloquy of
execrations, and threats of what he would have done had the 'fiend'
deceived him.
I repented having tried this second entrance, and was almost
inclined to slip away before he finished cursing, but ere I could
execute that intention, he ordered me in, and shut and re-fastened
the door. There was a great fire, and that was all the light in
the huge apartment, whose floor had grown a uniform grey; and the
once brilliant pewter-dishes, which used to attract my gaze when I
was a girl, partook of a similar obscurity, created by tarnish and
dust. I inquired whether I might call the maid, and be conducted
to a bedroom! Mr. Earnshaw vouchsafed no answer. He walked up and
down, with his hands in his pockets, apparently quite forgetting my
presence; and his abstraction was evidently so deep, and his whole
aspect so misanthropical, that I shrank from disturbing him again.
You'll not be surprised, Ellen, at my feeling particularly
cheerless, seated in worse than solitude on that inhospitable
hearth, and remembering that four miles distant lay my delightful
home, containing the only people I loved on earth; and there might
as well be the Atlantic to part us, instead of those four miles: I
could not overpass them! I questioned with myself - where must I
turn for comfort? and - mind you don't tell Edgar, or Catherine -
above every sorrow beside, this rose pre-eminent: despair at
finding nobody who could or would be my ally against Heathcliff! I
had sought shelter at Wuthering Heights, almost gladly, because I
was secured by that arrangement from living alone with him; but he
knew the people we were coming amongst, and he did not fear their
intermeddling.
I sat and thought a doleful time: the clock struck eight, and
nine, and still my companion paced to and fro, his head bent on his
breast, and perfectly silent, unless a groan or a bitter
ejaculation forced itself out at intervals. I listened to detect a
woman's voice in the house, and filled the interim with wild
regrets and dismal anticipations, which, at last, spoke audibly in
irrepressible sighing and weeping. I was not aware how openly I
grieved, till Earnshaw halted opposite, in his measured walk, and
gave me a stare of newly-awakened surprise. Taking advantage of
his recovered attention, I exclaimed - 'I'm tired with my journey,
and I want to go to bed! Where is the maid-servant? Direct me to
her, as she won't come to me!'
'We have none,' he answered; 'you must wait on yourself!'
'Where must I sleep, then?' I sobbed; I was beyond regarding self-
respect, weighed down by fatigue and wretchedness.
'Joseph will show you Heathcliff's chamber,' said he; 'open that
door - he's in there.'
I was going to obey, but he suddenly arrested me, and added in the
strangest tone - 'Be so good as to turn your lock, and draw your
bolt - don't omit it!'
'Well!' I said. 'But why, Mr. Earnshaw?' I did not relish the
notion of deliberately fastening myself in with Heathcliff.
'Look here!' he replied, pulling from his waistcoat a curiously-
constructed pistol, having a double-edged spring knife attached to
the barrel. 'That's a great tempter to a desperate man, is it not?
I cannot resist going up with this every night, and trying his
door. If once I find it open he's done for; I do it invariably,
even though the minute before I have been recalling a hundred
reasons that should make me refrain: it is some devil that urges
me to thwart my own schemes by killing him. You fight against that
devil for love as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the
angels in heaven shall save him!'
I surveyed the weapon inquisitively. A hideous notion struck me:
how powerful I should be possessing such an instrument! I took it
from his hand, and touched the blade. He looked astonished at the
expression my face assumed during a brief second: it was not
horror, it was covetousness. He snatched the pistol back,
jealously; shut the knife, and returned it to its concealment.
'I don't care if you tell him,' said he. 'Put him on his guard,
and watch for him. You know the terms we are on, I see: his
danger does not shock you.'
'What has Heathcliff done to you?' I asked. 'In what has he
wronged you, to warrant this appalling hatred? Wouldn't it be
wiser to bid him quit the house?'
'No!' thundered Earnshaw; 'should he offer to leave me, he's a dead
man: persuade him to attempt it, and you are a murderess! Am I to
lose ALL, without a chance of retrieval? Is Hareton to be a
beggar? Oh, damnation! I WILL have it back; and I'll have HIS
gold too; and then his blood; and hell shall have his soul! It
will be ten times blacker with that guest than ever it was before!'
You've acquainted me, Ellen, with your old master's habits. He is
clearly on the verge of madness: he was so last night at least. I
shuddered to be near him, and thought on the servant's ill-bred
moroseness as comparatively agreeable. He now recommenced his
moody walk, and I raised the latch, and escaped into the kitchen.
Joseph was bending over the fire, peering into a large pan that
swung above it; and a wooden bowl of oatmeal stood on the settle
close by. The contents of the pan began to boil, and he turned to
plunge his hand into the bowl; I conjectured that this preparation
was probably for our supper, and, being hungry, I resolved it
should be eatable; so, crying out sharply, 'I'LL make the
porridge!' I removed the vessel out of his reach, and proceeded to
take off my hat and riding-habit. 'Mr. Earnshaw,' I continued,
'directs me to wait on myself: I will. I'm not going to act the
lady among you, for fear I should starve.'
'Gooid Lord!' he muttered, sitting down, and stroking his ribbed
stockings from the knee to the ankle. 'If there's to be fresh
ortherings - just when I getten used to two maisters, if I mun hev'
a MISTRESS set o'er my heead, it's like time to be flitting. I
niver DID think to see t' day that I mud lave th' owld place - but
I doubt it's nigh at hand!'
This lamentation drew no notice from me: I went briskly to work,
sighing to remember a period when it would have been all merry fun;
but compelled speedily to drive off the remembrance. It racked me
to recall past happiness and the greater peril there was of
conjuring up its apparition, the quicker the thible ran round, and
the faster the handfuls of meal fell into the water. Joseph beheld
my style of cookery with growing indignation.
'Thear!' he ejaculated. 'Hareton, thou willn't sup thy porridge
to-neeght; they'll be naught but lumps as big as my neive. Thear,
agean! I'd fling in bowl un' all, if I wer ye! There, pale t'
guilp off, un' then ye'll hae done wi' 't. Bang, bang. It's a
mercy t' bothom isn't deaved out!'
It WAS rather a rough mess, I own, when poured into the basins;
four had been provided, and a gallon pitcher of new milk was
brought from the dairy, which Hareton seized and commenced drinking
and spilling from the expansive lip. I expostulated, and desired
that he should have his in a mug; affirming that I could not taste
the liquid treated so dirtily. The old cynic chose to be vastly
offended at this nicety; assuring me, repeatedly, that 'the barn
was every bit as good' as I, 'and every bit as wollsome,' and
wondering how I could fashion to be so conceited. Meanwhile, the
infant ruffian continued sucking; and glowered up at me defyingly,
as he slavered into the jug.
'I shall have my supper in another room,' I said. 'Have you no
place you call a parlour?'
'PARLOUR!' he echoed, sneeringly, 'PARLOUR! Nay, we've noa
PARLOURS. If yah dunnut loike wer company, there's maister's; un'
if yah dunnut loike maister, there's us.'
'Then I shall go up-stairs,' I answered; 'show me a chamber.'
I put my basin on a tray, and went myself to fetch some more milk.
With great grumblings, the fellow rose, and preceded me in my
ascent: we mounted to the garrets; he opened a door, now and then,
to look into the apartments we passed.
'Here's a rahm,' he said, at last, flinging back a cranky board on
hinges. 'It's weel eneugh to ate a few porridge in. There's a
pack o' corn i' t' corner, thear, meeterly clane; if ye're feared
o' muckying yer grand silk cloes, spread yer hankerchir o' t' top
on't.'
The 'rahm' was a kind of lumber-hole smelling strong of malt and
grain; various sacks of which articles were piled around, leaving a
wide, bare space in the middle.
'Why, man,' I exclaimed, facing him angrily, 'this is not a place
to sleep in. I wish to see my bed-room.'
'BED-RUME!' he repeated, in a tone of mockery. 'Yah's see all t'
BED-RUMES thear is - yon's mine.'
He pointed into the second garret, only differing from the first in
being more naked about the walls, and having a large, low,
curtainless bed, with an indigo-coloured quilt, at one end.
'What do I want with yours?' I retorted. 'I suppose Mr. Heathcliff
does not lodge at the top of the house, does he?'
'Oh! it's Maister HATHECLIFF'S ye're wanting?' cried he, as if
making a new discovery. 'Couldn't ye ha' said soa, at onst? un'
then, I mud ha' telled ye, baht all this wark, that that's just one
ye cannut see - he allas keeps it locked, un' nob'dy iver mells
on't but hisseln.'
'You've a nice house, Joseph,' I could not refrain from observing,
'and pleasant inmates; and I think the concentrated essence of all
the madness in the world took up its abode in my brain the day I
linked my fate with theirs! However, that is not to the present
purpose - there are other rooms. For heaven's sake be quick, and
let me settle somewhere!'
He made no reply to this adjuration; only plodding doggedly down
the wooden steps, and halting, before an apartment which, from that
halt and the superior quality of its furniture, I conjectured to be
the best one. There was a carpet - a good one, but the pattern was
obliterated by dust; a fireplace hung with cut-paper, dropping to
pieces; a handsome oak-bedstead with ample crimson curtains of
rather expensive material and modern make; but they had evidently
experienced rough usage: the vallances hung in festoons, wrenched
from their rings, and the iron rod supporting them was bent in an
arc on one side, causing the drapery to trail upon the floor. The
chairs were also damaged, many of them severely; and deep
indentations deformed the panels of the walls. I was endeavouring
to gather resolution for entering and taking possession, when my
fool of a guide announced, - 'This here is t' maister's.' My
supper by this time was cold, my appetite gone, and my patience
exhausted. I insisted on being provided instantly with a place of
refuge, and means of repose.
'Whear the divil?' began the religious elder. 'The Lord bless us!
The Lord forgie us! Whear the HELL wdd ye gang? ye marred,
wearisome nowt! Ye've seen all but Hareton's bit of a cham'er.
There's not another hoile to lig down in i' th' hahse!'
I was so vexed, I flung my tray and its contents on the ground; and
then seated myself at the stairs'-head, hid my face in my hands,
and cried.
'Ech! ech!' exclaimed Joseph. 'Weel done, Miss Cathy! weel done,
Miss Cathy! Howsiver, t' maister sall just tum'le o'er them
brooken pots; un' then we's hear summut; we's hear how it's to be.
Gooid-for-naught madling! ye desarve pining fro' this to Churstmas,
flinging t' precious gifts o'God under fooit i' yer flaysome rages!
But I'm mista'en if ye shew yer sperrit lang. Will Hathecliff bide
sich bonny ways, think ye? I nobbut wish he may catch ye i' that
plisky. I nobbut wish he may.'
And so he went on scolding to his den beneath, taking the candle
with him; and I remained in the dark. The period of reflection
succeeding this silly action compelled me to admit the necessity of
smothering my pride and choking my wrath, and bestirring myself to
remove its effects. An unexpected aid presently appeared in the
shape of Throttler, whom I now recognised as a son of our old
Skulker: it had spent its whelphood at the Grange, and was given
by my father to Mr. Hindley. I fancy it knew me: it pushed its
nose against mine by way of salute, and then hastened to devour the
porridge; while I groped from step to step, collecting the
shattered earthenware, and drying the spatters of milk from the
banister with my pocket-handkerchief. Our labours were scarcely
over when I heard Earnshaw's tread in the passage; my assistant
tucked in his tail, and pressed to the wall; I stole into the
nearest doorway. The dog's endeavour to avoid him was
unsuccessful; as I guessed by a scutter down-stairs, and a
prolonged, piteous yelping. I had better luck: he passed on,
entered his chamber, and shut the door. Directly after Joseph came
up with Hareton, to put him to bed. I had found shelter in
Hareton's room, and the old man, on seeing me, said, - 'They's rahm
for boath ye un' yer pride, now, I sud think i' the hahse. It's
empty; ye may hev' it all to yerseln, un' Him as allus maks a
third, i' sich ill company!'
Gladly did I take advantage of this intimation; and the minute I
flung myself into a chair, by the fire, I nodded, and slept. My
slumber was deep and sweet, though over far too soon. Mr.
Heathcliff awoke me; he had just come in, and demanded, in his
loving manner, what I was doing there? I told him the cause of my
staying up so late - that he had the key of our room in his pocket.
The adjective OUR gave mortal offence. He swore it was not, nor
ever should be, mine; and he'd - but I'll not repeat his language,
nor describe his habitual conduct: he is ingenious and unresting
in seeking to gain my abhorrence! I sometimes wonder at him with
an intensity that deadens my fear: yet, I assure you, a tiger or a
venomous serpent could not rouse terror in me equal to that which
he wakens. He told me of Catherine's illness, and accused my
brother of causing it promising that I should be Edgar's proxy in
suffering, till he could get hold of him.
I do hate him - I am wretched - I have been a fool! Beware of
uttering one breath of this to any one at the Grange. I shall
expect you every day - don't disappoint me! - ISABELLA. _
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