AT the close of three weeks
I was able to quit my chamber
and move about the house. And
on the first occasion of my sitting
up in the evening I asked Catherine
to read to me, because my eyes
were weak. We were in the library,
the master having gone to bed:
she consented, rather unwillingly,
I fancied; and imagining my sort
of books did not suit her, I
bid her please herself in the
choice of what she perused. She
selected one of her own favourites,
and got forward steadily about
an hour; then came frequent questions.
'Ellen, are not you tired?
Hadn't you better lie down now?
You'll be sick, keeping up so
long, Ellen.'
'No, no, dear, I'm not tired,'
I returned, continually.
Perceiving me immovable, she
essayed another method of showing
her disrelish for her occupation.
It changed to yawning, and stretching,
and -
'Ellen, I'm tired.'
'Give over then and talk,'
I answered.
That was worse: she fretted
and sighed, and looked at her
watch till eight, and finally
went to her room, completely
overdone with sleep; judging
by her peevish, heavy look, and
the constant rubbing she inflicted
on her eyes. The following night
she seemed more impatient still;
and on the third from recovering
my company she complained of
a headache, and left me. I thought
her conduct odd; and having remained
alone a long while, I resolved
on going and inquiring whether
she were better, and asking her
to come and lie on the sofa,
instead of up-stairs in the dark.
No Catherine could I discover
up-stairs, and none below. The
servants affirmed they had not
seen her. I listened at Mr. Edgar's
door; all was silence. I returned
to her apartment, extinguished
my candle, and seated myself
in the window.
The moon shone bright; a sprinkling
of snow covered the ground, and
I reflected that she might, possibly,
have taken it into her head to
walk about the garden, for refreshment.
I did detect a figure creeping
along the inner fence of the
park; but it was not my young
mistress: on its emerging into
the light, I recognised one of
the grooms. He stood a considerable
period, viewing the carriage-road
through the grounds; then started
off at a brisk pace, as if he
had detected something, and reappeared
presently, leading Miss's pony;
and there she was, just dismounted,
and walking by its side. The
man took his charge stealthily
across the grass towards the
stable. Cathy entered by the
casement-window of the drawing-room,
and glided noiselessly up to
where I awaited her. She put
the door gently too, slipped
off her snowy shoes, untied her
hat, and was proceeding, unconscious
of my espionage, to lay aside
her mantle, when I suddenly rose
and revealed myself. The surprise
petrified her an instant: she
uttered an inarticulate exclamation,
and stood fixed.
'My dear Miss Catherine,' I
began, too vividly impressed
by her recent kindness to break
into a scold, 'where have you
been riding out at this hour?
And why should you try to deceive
me by telling a tale? Where have
you been? Speak!'
'To the bottom of the park,'
she stammered. 'I didn't tell
a tale.'
'And nowhere else?' I demanded.
'No,' was the muttered reply.
'Oh, Catherine!' I cried, sorrowfully.
'You know you have been doing
wrong, or you wouldn't be driven
to uttering an untruth to me.
That does grieve me. I'd rather
be three months ill, than hear
you frame a deliberate lie.'
She sprang forward, and bursting
into tears, threw her arms round
my neck.
'Well, Ellen, I'm so afraid
of you being angry,' she said.
'Promise not to be angry, and
you shall know the very truth:
I hate to hide it.'
We sat down in the window-seat;
I assured her I would not scold,
whatever her secret might be,
and I guessed it, of course;
so she commenced -
'I've been to Wuthering Heights,
Ellen, and I've never missed
going a day since you fell ill;
except thrice before, and twice
after you left your room. I gave
Michael books and pictures to
prepare Minny every evening,
and to put her back in the stable:
you mustn't scold him either,
mind. I was at the Heights by
half-past six, and generally
stayed till half-past eight,
and then galloped home. It was
not to amuse myself that I went:
I was often wretched all the
time. Now and then I was happy:
once in a week perhaps. At first,
I expected there would be sad
work persuading you to let me
keep my word to Linton: for I
had engaged to call again next
day, when we quitted him; but,
as you stayed up-stairs on the
morrow, I escaped that trouble.
While Michael was refastening
the lock of the park door in
the afternoon, I got possession
of the key, and told him how
my cousin wished me to visit
him, because he was sick, and
couldn't come to the Grange;
and how papa would object to
my going: and then I negotiated
with him about the pony. He is
fond of reading, and he thinks
of leaving soon to get married;
so he offered, if I would lend
him books out of the library,
to do what I wished: but I preferred
giving him my own, and that satisfied
him better.
'On my second visit Linton
seemed in lively spirits; and
Zillah (that is their housekeeper)
made us a clean room and a good
fire, and told us that, as Joseph
was out at a prayer-meeting and
Hareton Earnshaw was off with
his dogs - robbing our woods
of pheasants, as I heard afterwards
- we might do what we liked.
She brought me some warm wine
and gingerbread, and appeared
exceedingly good- natured, and
Linton sat in the arm-chair,
and I in the little rocking chair
on the hearth-stone, and we laughed
and talked so merrily, and found
so much to say: we planned where
we would go, and what we would
do in summer. I needn't repeat
that, because you would call
it silly.
'One time, however, we were
near quarrelling. He said the
pleasantest manner of spending
a hot July day was lying from
morning till evening on a bank
of heath in the middle of the
moors, with the bees humming
dreamily about among the bloom,
and the larks singing high up
overhead, and the blue sky and
bright sun shining steadily and
cloudlessly. That was his most
perfect idea of heaven's happiness:
mine was rocking in a rustling
green tree, with a west wind
blowing, and bright white clouds
flitting rapidly above; and not
only larks, but throstles, and
blackbirds, and linnets, and
cuckoos pouring out music on
every side, and the moors seen
at a distance, broken into cool
dusky dells; but close by great
swells of long grass undulating
in waves to the breeze; and woods
and sounding water, and the whole
world awake and wild with joy.
He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy
of peace; I wanted all to sparkle
and dance in a glorious jubilee.
I said his heaven would be only
half alive; and he said mine
would be drunk: I said I should
fall asleep in his; and he said
he could not breathe in mine,
and began to grow very snappish.
At last, we agreed to try both,
as soon as the right weather
came; and then we kissed each
other and were friends.
'After sitting still an hour,
I looked at the great room with
its smooth uncarpeted floor,
and thought how nice it would
be to play in, if we removed
the table; and I asked Linton
to call Zillah in to help us,
and we'd have a game at blindman's-buff;
she should try to catch us: you
used to, you know, Ellen. He
wouldn't: there was no pleasure
in it, he said; but he consented
to play at ball with me. We found
two in a cupboard, among a heap
of old toys, tops, and hoops,
and battledores and shuttlecocks.
One was marked C., and the other
H.; I wished to have the C.,
because that stood for Catherine,
and the H. might be for Heathcliff,
his name; but the bran came out
of H., and Linton didn't like
it. I beat him constantly: and
he got cross again, and coughed,
and returned to his chair. That
night, though, he easily recovered
his good humour: he was charmed
with two or three pretty songs
- YOUR songs, Ellen; and when
I was obliged to go, he begged
and entreated me to come the
following evening; and I promised.
Minny and I went flying home
as light as air; and I dreamt
of Wuthering Heights and my sweet,
darling cousin, till morning.
'On the morrow
I was sad; partly because you
were poorly, and
partly that I wished my father
knew, and approved of my excursions:
but it was beautiful moonlight
after tea; and, as I rode on,
the gloom cleared. I shall have
another happy evening, I thought
to myself; and what delights
me more, my pretty Linton will.
I trotted up their garden, and
was turning round to the back,
when that fellow Earnshaw met
me, took my bridle, and bid me
go in by the front entrance.
He patted Minny's neck, and said
she was a bonny beast, and appeared
as if he wanted me to speak to
him. I only told him to leave
my horse alone, or else it would
kick him. He answered in his
vulgar accent, "It wouldn't do
mitch hurt if it did;" and surveyed
its legs with a smile. I was
half inclined to make it try;
however, he moved off to open
the door, and, as he raised the
latch, he looked up to the inscription
above, and said, with a stupid
mixture of awkwardness and elation: "Miss
Catherine! I can read yon, now."
'"Wonderful," I exclaimed. "Pray
let us hear you - you ARE grown
clever!"
'He spelt,
and drawled over by syllables,
the name - "Hareton
Earnshaw."
'"And the figures?" I
cried, encouragingly, perceiving
that
he came to a dead halt.
'"I cannot tell them yet," he
answered.
'"Oh, you dunce!" I
said, laughing heartily at
his failure.
'The fool stared, with a grin
hovering about his lips, and
a scowl gathering over his eyes,
as if uncertain whether he might
not join in my mirth: whether
it were not pleasant familiarity,
or what it really was, contempt.
I settled his doubts, by suddenly
retrieving my gravity and desiring
him to walk away, for I came
to see Linton, not him. He reddened
- I saw that by the moonlight
- dropped his hand from the latch,
and skulked off, a picture of
mortified vanity. He imagined
himself to be as accomplished
as Linton, I suppose, because
he could spell his own name;
and was marvellously discomfited
that I didn't think the same.'
'Stop, Miss Catherine, dear!'
- I interrupted. 'I shall not
scold, but I don't like your
conduct there. If you had remembered
that Hareton was your cousin
as much as Master Heathcliff,
you would have felt how improper
it was to behave in that way.
At least, it was praiseworthy
ambition for him to desire to
be as accomplished as Linton;
and probably he did not learn
merely to show off: you had made
him ashamed of his ignorance
before, I have no doubt; and
he wished to remedy it and please
you. To sneer at his imperfect
attempt was very bad breeding.
Had you been brought up in his
circumstances, would you be less
rude? He was as quick and as
intelligent a child as ever you
were; and I'm hurt that he should
be despised now, because that
base Heathcliff has treated him
so unjustly.'
'Well, Ellen, you won't cry
about it, will you?' she exclaimed,
surprised at my earnestness.
'But wait, and you shall hear
if he conned his A B C to please
me; and if it were worth while
being civil to the brute. I entered;
Linton was lying on the settle,
and half got up to welcome me.
'"I'm ill to-night, Catherine,
love," he said; "and you must
have all the talk, and let me
listen. Come, and sit by me.
I was sure you wouldn't break
your word, and I'll make you
promise again, before you go."
'I knew now that I mustn't
tease him, as he was ill; and
I spoke softly and put no questions,
and avoided irritating him in
any way. I had brought some of
my nicest books for him: he asked
me to read a little of one, and
I was about to comply, when Earnshaw
burst the door open: having gathered
venom with reflection. He advanced
direct to us, seized Linton by
the arm, and swung him off the
seat.
'"Get to thy own room!" he
said, in a voice almost inarticulate
with passion; and his face looked
swelled and furious. "Take her
there if she comes to see thee:
thou shalln't keep me out of
this. Begone wi' ye both!"
'He swore at us, and left Linton
no time to answer, nearly throwing
him into the kitchen; and he
clenched his fist as I followed,
seemingly longing to knock me
down. I was afraid for a moment,
and I let one volume fall; he
kicked it after me, and shut
us out. I heard a malignant,
crackly laugh by the fire, and
turning, beheld that odious Joseph
standing rubbing his bony hands,
and quivering.
'"I wer sure
he'd sarve ye out! He's a grand
lad! He's getten
t' raight sperrit in him! HE
knaws - ay, he knaws, as weel
as I do, who sud be t' maister
yonder - Ech, ech, ech! He made
ye skift properly! Ech, ech,
ech!"
'"Where must we go?" I
asked of my cousin, disregarding
the
old wretch's mockery.
'Linton was white and trembling.
He was not pretty then, Ellen:
oh, no! he looked frightful;
for his thin face and large eyes
were wrought into an expression
of frantic, powerless fury. He
grasped the handle of the door,
and shook it: it was fastened
inside.
'"If you don't let me in, I'll
kill you! - If you don't let
me in, I'll kill you!" he rather
shrieked than said. "Devil! devil!
- I'll kill you - I'll kill you!"
Joseph uttered his croaking
laugh again.
'"Thear, that's t' father!" he
cried. "That's father! We've
allas summut o' either side in
us. Niver heed, Hareton, lad
- dunnut be 'feard - he cannot
get at thee!"
'I took hold
of Linton's hands, and tried
to pull him away; but
he shrieked so shockingly that
I dared not proceed. At last
his cries were choked by a dreadful
fit of coughing; blood gushed
from his mouth, and he fell on
the ground. I ran into the yard,
sick with terror; and called
for Zillah, as loud as I could.
She soon heard me: she was milking
the cows in a shed behind the
barn, and hurrying from her work,
she inquired what there was to
do? I hadn't breath to explain;
dragging her in, I looked about
for Linton. Earnshaw had come
out to examine the mischief he
had caused, and he was then conveying
the poor thing up-stairs. Zillah
and I ascended after him; but
he stopped me at the top of the
steps, and said I shouldn't go
in: I must go home. I exclaimed
that he had killed Linton, and
I WOULD enter. Joseph locked
the door, and declared I should
do "no sich stuff," and asked
me whether I were "bahn to be
as mad as him." I stood crying
till the housekeeper reappeared.
She affirmed he would be better
in a bit, but he couldn't do
with that shrieking and din;
and she took me, and nearly carried
me into the house.
'Ellen, I was
ready to tear my hair off my
head! I sobbed
and wept so that my eyes were
almost blind; and the ruffian
you have such sympathy with stood
opposite: presuming every now
and then to bid me "wisht," and
denying that it was his fault;
and, finally, frightened by my
assertions that I would tell
papa, and that he should be put
in prison and hanged, he commenced
blubbering himself, and hurried
out to hide his cowardly agitation.
Still, I was not rid of him:
when at length they compelled
me to depart, and I had got some
hundred yards off the premises,
he suddenly issued from the shadow
of the road-side, and checked
Minny and took hold of me.
'"Miss Catherine, I'm ill grieved," he
began, "but it's rayther too
bad - "
'I gave him a cut with my whip,
thinking perhaps he would murder
me. He let go, thundering one
of his horrid curses, and I galloped
home more than half out of my
senses.
'I didn't bid
you good-night that evening,
and I didn't go
to Wuthering Heights the next:
I wished to go exceedingly; but
I was strangely excited, and
dreaded to hear that Linton was
dead, sometimes; and sometimes
shuddered at the thought of encountering
Hareton. On the third day I took
courage: at least, I couldn't
bear longer suspense, and stole
off once more. I went at five
o'clock, and walked; fancying
I might manage to creep into
the house, and up to Linton's
room, unobserved. However, the
dogs gave notice of my approach.
Zillah received me, and saying "the
lad was mending nicely," showed
me into a small, tidy, carpeted
apartment, where, to my inexpressible
joy, I beheld Linton laid on
a little sofa, reading one of
my books. But he would neither
speak to me nor look at me, through
a whole hour, Ellen: he has such
an unhappy temper. And what quite
confounded me, when he did open
his mouth, it was to utter the
falsehood that I had occasioned
the uproar, and Hareton was not
to blame! Unable to reply, except
passionately, I got up and walked
from the room. He sent after
me a faint "Catherine!" He did
not reckon on being answered
so: but I wouldn't turn back;
and the morrow was the second
day on which I stayed at home,
nearly determined to visit him
no more. But it was so miserable
going to bed and getting up,
and never hearing anything about
him, that my resolution melted
into air before it was properly
formed. It had appeared wrong
to take the journey once; now
it seemed wrong to refrain. Michael
came to ask if he must saddle
Minny; I said "Yes," and considered
myself doing a duty as she bore
me over the hills. I was forced
to pass the front windows to
get to the court: it was no use
trying to conceal my presence.
'"Young master is in the house," said
Zillah, as she saw me making
for the parlour. I went in; Earnshaw
was there also, but he quitted
the room directly. Linton sat
in the great arm-chair half asleep;
walking up to the fire, I began
in a serious tone, partly meaning
it to be true -
'"As you don't
like me, Linton, and as you
think I come on purpose
to hurt you, and pretend that
I do so every time, this is our
last meeting: let us say good-bye;
and tell Mr. Heathcliff that
you have no wish to see me, and
that he mustn't invent any more
falsehoods on the subject."
'"Sit down and take your hat
off, Catherine," he answered. "You
are so much happier than I am,
you ought to be better. Papa
talks enough of my defects, and
shows enough scorn of me, to
make it natural I should doubt
myself. I doubt whether I am
not altogether as worthless as
he calls me, frequently; and
then I feel so cross and bitter,
I hate everybody! I am worthless,
and bad in temper, and bad in
spirit, almost always; and, if
you choose, you may say good-bye:
you'll get rid of an annoyance.
Only, Catherine, do me this justice:
believe that if I might be as
sweet, and as kind, and as good
as you are, I would be; as willingly,
and more so, than as happy and
as healthy. And believe that
your kindness has made me love
you deeper than if I deserved
your love: and though I couldn't,
and cannot help showing my nature
to you, I regret it and repent
it; and shall regret and repent
it till I die!"
'I felt he spoke the truth;
and I felt I must forgive him:
and, though we should quarrel
the next moment, I must forgive
him again. We were reconciled;
but we cried, both of us, the
whole time I stayed: not entirely
for sorrow; yet I WAS sorry Linton
had that distorted nature. He'll
never let his friends be at ease,
and he'll never be at ease himself!
I have always gone to his little
parlour, since that night; because
his father returned the day after.
'About three times, I think,
we have been merry and hopeful,
as we were the first evening;
the rest of my visits were dreary
and troubled: now with his selfishness
and spite, and now with his sufferings:
but I've learned to endure the
former with nearly as little
resentment as the latter. Mr.
Heathcliff purposely avoids me:
I have hardly seen him at all.
Last Sunday, indeed, coming earlier
than usual, I heard him abusing
poor Linton cruelly for his conduct
of the night before. I can't
tell how he knew of it, unless
he listened. Linton had certainly
behaved provokingly: however,
it was the business of nobody
but me, and I interrupted Mr.
Heathcliff's lecture by entering
and telling him so. He burst
into a laugh, and went away,
saying he was glad I took that
view of the matter. Since then,
I've told Linton he must whisper
his bitter things. Now, Ellen,
you have heard all. I can't be
prevented from going to Wuthering
Heights, except by inflicting
misery on two people; whereas,
if you'll only not tell papa,
my going need disturb the tranquillity
of none. You'll not tell, will
you? It will be very heartless,
if you do.'
'I'll make up my mind on that
point by to-morrow, Miss Catherine,'
I replied. 'It requires some
study; and so I'll leave you
to your rest, and go think it
over.'
I thought it over aloud, in
my master's presence; walking
straight from her room to his,
and relating the whole story:
with the exception of her conversations
with her cousin, and any mention
of Hareton. Mr. Linton was alarmed
and distressed, more than he
would acknowledge to me. In the
morning, Catherine learnt my
betrayal of her confidence, and
she learnt also that her secret
visits were to end. In vain she
wept and writhed against the
interdict, and implored her father
to have pity on Linton: all she
got to comfort her was a promise
that he would write and give
him leave to come to the Grange
when he pleased; but explaining
that he must no longer expect
to see Catherine at Wuthering
Heights. Perhaps, had he been
aware of his nephew's disposition
and state of health, he would
have seen fit to withhold even
that slight consolation.
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