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.
|