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