English
WHILEleadingthewayupstairs,sherecommendedthatIshouldhidethecandle,andnotmakeanoise;forhermasterhadanoddnotionaboutthechambershewouldputmein,andneverletanybodylodgetherewillingly.Iaskedthereason.
Shedidnotknow,sheanswered:shehadonlylivedthereayearortwo;andtheyhadsomanyqueergoingson,shecouldnotbegintobecurious.
Toostupefiedtobecuriousmyself,Ifastenedthedoorandglancedroundforthebed.
Thewholefurnitureconsistedofachair,aclothespress,andalargeoakcase,withsquarescutoutnearthetopresemblingcoachwindows.
HavingapproachedthisstructureIlookedinside,andperceivedittobeasingularsortofold-fashionedcouch,veryconvenientlydesignedtoobviatethenecessityforeverymemberofthefamilyhavingaroomtohimself.
Infact,itformedalittlecloset,andtheledgeofawindow,whichitenclosed,servedasatable.
Islidbackthepanelledsides,gotinwithmylight,pulledthemtogetheragain,andfeltsecureagainstthevigilanceofHeathcliff,andeveryoneelse.
Theledge,whereIplacedmycandle,hadafewmildewedbookspiledupinonecorner;anditwascoveredwithwritingscratchedonthepaint.
Thiswriting,however,wasnothingbutanamerepeatedinallkindsofcharacters,largeandsmall—CatherineEarnshaw,hereandtherevariedtoCatherineHeathcliff,andthenagaintoCatherineLinton.
InvapidlistlessnessIleantmyheadagainstthewindow,andcontinuedspellingoverCatherineEarnshaw—Heathcliff—Linton,tillmyeyesclosed;buttheyhadnotrestedfiveminuteswhenaglareofwhitelettersstartedfromthedarkasvividasspectres—theairswarmedwithCatherines;androusingmyselftodispeltheobtrusivename,Idiscoveredmycandlewickrecliningononeoftheantiquevolumes,andperfumingtheplacewithanodourofroastedcalf-skin.
Isnuffeditout,and,veryillateaseundertheinfluenceofcoldandlingeringnausea,satupandspreadopentheinjuredtomeonmyknee.
ItwasaTestament,inleantype,andsmellingdreadfullymusty:aflyleafboretheinscription—“CatherineEarnshaw,herbook,”andadatesomequarterofacenturyback.
Ishutit,andtookupanother,andanother,tillIhadexaminedall.
Catherine’slibrarywasselect,anditsstateofdilapidationprovedittohavebeenwellused;thoughnotaltogetherforalegitimatepurpose:scarcelyonechapterhadescapedapen-and-inkcommentary—atleast,theappearanceofone—coveringeverymorselofblankthattheprinterhadleft.
Someweredetachedsentences;otherpartstooktheformofaregulardiary,scrawledinanunformedchildishhand.
Atthetopofanextrapage(quiteatreasure,probably,whenfirstlightedon)IwasgreatlyamusedtobeholdanexcellentcaricatureofmyfriendJoseph,—rudely,yetpowerfullysketched.
AnimmediateinterestkindledwithinmefortheunknownCatherine,andIbeganforthwithtodecipherherfadedhieroglyphics.
“AnawfulSunday!”commencedtheparagraphbeneath.“Iwishmyfatherwerebackagain.
Hindleyisadetestablesubstitute—hisconducttoHeathcliffisatrocious—H.andIaregoingtorebel—wetookourinitiatorystepthisevening.
“Alldayhadbeenfloodingwithrain;wecouldnotgotochurch,soJosephmustneedsgetupacongregationinthegarret;and,whileHindleyandhiswifebaskeddownstairsbeforeacomfortablefire—doinganythingbutreadingtheirBibles,I’llanswerforit—Heathcliff,myself,andtheunhappyplough-boy,werecommandedtotakeourprayer-books,andmount:wererangedinarow,onasackofcorn,groaningandshivering,andhopingthatjosephwouldshivertoo,sothathemightgiveusashorthomilyforhisownsake.
Avainidea!
Theservicelastedpreciselythreehours;andyetmybrotherhadthefacetoexclaim,whenhesawusdescending,‘What,donealready?’
OnSundayeveningsweusedtobepermittedtoplay,ifwedidnotmakemuchnoise;nowameretitterissufficienttosendusintocorners!
“’Youforgetyouhaveamasterhere,’saysthetyrant.
‘I’lldemolishthefirstwhoputsmeoutoftemper!
Iinsistonperfectsobrietyandsilence.Oh,boy!wasthatyou?
Frances,darling,pullhishairasyougoby:Iheardhimsnaphisfingers.’
Francespulledhishairheartily,andthenwentandseatedherselfonherhusband’sknee;andtheretheywere,liketwobabies,kissingandtalkingnonsensebythehour—foolishpalaverthatweshouldbeashamedof.
Wemadeourselvesassnugasourmeansallowedinthearchofthedresser.
Ihadjustfastenedourpinaforestogether,andhungthemupforacurtain,whenincomesJosephonanerrandfromthestables.
Hetearsdownmyhandiwork,boxesmyearsandcroaks—
“’T’maisternobbutjustburied,andSabbathnoo’ered,undt’soundo’t’gospelstilli’yerlugs,andyedarrbelaiking!Shameonye!sityedown,illchilder!
there’sgoodbooksenoughifye’llread‘em!sityedown,andthinko’yersowls!’
“Sayingthis,hecompelledustosquareourpositionsthatwemightreceivefromthefar-offfireadullraytoshowusthetextofthelumberhethrustuponus.Icouldnotbeartheemployment.
Itookmydingyvolumebythescroop,andhurleditintothedog-kennel,vowingIhatedagoodbook.
Heathcliffkickedhistothesameplace.Thentherewasahubbub!
“’MaisterHindley!’shoutedourchaplain.‘Maister,coomhither!
MissCathy’sriventh’backoff“Th’Helmeto’Salvation,”un’Heathcliff’spawsedhisfitintot’firstparto’“T’BrooadWaytoDestruction!”
It’sfairflaysomethatyelet‘emgoonthisgait.Ech!
th’owdmanwadha’laced‘emproperly—buthe’sgoan!’
“Hindleyhurriedupfromhisparadiseonthehearth,andseizingoneofusbythecollar,andtheotherbythearm,hurledbothintothebackkitchen;where,Josephasseverated,‘owdNick’wouldfetchusassureaswewereliving:and,socomforted,weeachsoughtaseparatenooktoawaithisadvent.
Ireachedthisbook,andapotofinkfromashelf,andpushedthehousedoorajartogivemelight,andIhavegotthetimeonwithwritingfortwentyminutes;butmycompanionisimpatient,andproposesthatweshouldappropriatethedairywoman’scloak,andhaveascamperonthemoors,underitsshelter.
Apleasantsuggestion—andthen,ifthesurlyoldmancomein,hemaybelievehisprophecyverified—wecannotbedamper,orcolder,intherainthanwearehere.”
IsupposeCatherinefulfilledherproject,forthenextsentencetookupanothersubject;shewaxedlachrymose.
“HowlittledidIdreamthatHindleywouldevermakemecryso!”shewrote.
“Myheadaches,tillIcannotkeepitonthepillow;andstillIcan’tgiveover.PoorHeathcliff!
Hindleycallshimavagabond,andwon’tlethimsitwithus,noreatwithusanymore;and,hesays,heandImustnotplaytogether,andthreatenstoturnhimoutofthehouseifwebreakhisorders.
Hehasbeenblamingourfather(howdaredhe?)
fortreatingH.tooliberally;andheswearshewillreducehimtohisrightplace-”
Ibegantonoddrowsilyoverthedimpage:myeyewanderedfrommanuscripttoprint.
Isawaredornamentedtitle—“SeventyTimesSeven,andtheFirstoftheSeventy-First.
APiousDiscoursedeliveredbytheReverendJabesBranderham,intheChapelofGimmerdonSough.”
AndwhileIwas,halfconsciously,worryingmybraintoguesswhatJabesBranderhamwouldmakeofhissubject,Isankbackinbed,andfellasleep.
Alas,fortheeffectsofbadteaandbadtemper!
Whatelsecoulditbethatmademepasssuchaterriblenight?
Idon’trememberanotherthatIcanatallcomparewithitsinceIwascapableofsuffering.
Ibegantodream,almostbeforeIceasedtobesensibleofmylocality.
Ithoughtitwasmorning;andIhadsetoutonmywayhome,withJosephforaguide.
Thesnowlayyardsdeepinourroad;and,asweflounderedon,mycompanionweariedmewithconstantreproachesthatIhadnotbroughtapilgrim’sstaff:tellingmethatIcouldnevergetintothehousewithoutone,andboastfullyflourishingaheavyheadedcudgel,whichIunderstoodtobesodenominated.
ForamomentIconsidereditabsurdthatIshouldneedsuchaweapontogainadmittanceintomyownresidence.Thenanewideaflashedacrossme.
Iwasnotgoingthere:wewerejourneyingtohearthefamousJabesBranderhampreachfromthetext—“SeventyTimesSeven”;andeitherJoseph,thepreacher,orIhadcommittedthe“FirstoftheSeventy-First,”andweretobepubliclyexposedandexcommunicated.
Wecametothechapel.Ihavepasseditreallyinmywalks,twiceorthrice;itliesinahollow,betweentwohills:anelevatedhollow,nearaswamp,whosepeatymoistureissaidtoanswerallthepurposesofembalmingonthefewcorpsesdepositedthere.
Theroofhasbeenkeptwholehitherto;butastheclergyman’sstipendisonlytwentypoundsperannum,andahousewithtworooms,threateningspeedilytodetermineintoone,noclergymanwillundertakethedutiesofpastor:especiallyasitiscurrentlyreportedthathisflockwouldratherlethimstarvethanincreasethelivingbyonepennyfromtheirownpockets.
However,inmydream,Jabeshadafullandattentivecongregation;andhepreached—goodGod!
whatasermon:dividedintofourhundredandninetyparts,eachfullyequaltoanordinaryaddressfromthepulpit,andeachdiscussingaseparatesin!
Wherehesearchedforthem,Icannottell.
Hehadhisprivatemannerofinterpretingthephrase,anditseemednecessarythebrothershouldsindifferentsinsoneveryoccasion.
Theywereofthemostcuriouscharacter:oddtransgressionsthatIneverimaginedpreviously.
Oh,howwearyIgrew.HowIwrithed,andyawned,andnodded,andrevived!
HowIpinchedandprickedmyself,andrubbedmyeyes,andstoodup,andsatdownagain,andnudgedjosephtoinformmeifhewouldeverhavedone.
Iwascondemnedtohearallout:finally,hereachedthe“FirstoftheSeventy-First.”
Atthatcrisisasuddeninspirationdescendedonme;IwasmovedtoriseanddenounceJabesBranderhamasthesinnerofthesinthatnoChristianneedpardon.
“Sir,”Iexclaimed,“sittingherewithinthesefourwalls,atonestretch,Ihaveenduredandforgiventhefourhundredandninetyheadsofyourdiscourse.
SeventytimesseventimeshaveIpluckedupmyhatandbeenabouttodepart—Seventytimesseventimeshaveyoupreposterouslyforcedmetoresumemyseat.
Thefourhundredandninetyfirstistoomuch.Fellow-martyrs,haveathim!
Draghimdown,andcrushhimtoatoms,thattheplacewhichknowshimmayknowhimnomore!”
“Thouarttheman!”criedJabes,afterasolemnpause,leaningoverhiscushion.
“Seventytimesseventimesdidstthougapinglycontortthyvisage—seventytimessevendidItakecounselwithmysoul—Lo,thisishumanweakness:thisalsomaybeabsolved!TheFirstoftheSeventy-Firstiscome.
Brethren,executeuponhimthejudgmentwritten.SuchhonourhaveallHissaints!”
Withthatconcludingword,thewholeassembly,exaltingtheirpilgrim’sstaves,rushedroundmeinabody;andI,havingnoweapontoraiseinself-defense,commencedgrapplingwithJoseph,mynearestandmostferociousassailant,forhis.
Intheconfluenceofthemultitude,severalclubscrossed;blows,aimedatme,fellonothersconces.
Presentlythewholechapelresoundedwithrappingsandcounter-rappings:everyman’shandwasagainsthisneighbour;andBranderham,unwillingtoremainidle,pouredforthhiszealinashowerofloudtapsontheboardsofthepulpit,whichrespondedsosmartlythat,atlast,tomyunspeakablerelief,theywokeme.
Andwhatwasitthathadsuggestedthetremendoustumult?
WhathadplayedJabes’spartintherow?
Merely,thebranchofafir-treethattouchedmylattice,astheblastwailedby,andrattleditsdryconesagainstthepanes!
Ilisteneddoubtinglyaninstant;detectedthedisturber,thenturnedanddozed,anddreamtagain:ifpossible,stillmoredisagreeablythanbefore.
Thistime,IrememberedIwaslyingintheoakcloset,andIhearddistinctlythegustywind,andthedrivingofthesnow;Iheard,also,thefir-boughrepeatitsteasingsound,andascribedittotherightcause:butitannoyedmesomuch,thatIresolvedtosilenceit,ifpossible;and,Ithought,Iroseandendeavouredtounhaspthecasement.
Thehookwassolderedintothestaple:acircumstanceobservedbymewhenawake,butforgotten.“Imuststopit,nevertheless!”
Imuttered,knockingmyknucklesthroughtheglass,andstretchinganarmouttoseizetheimportunatebranch;insteadofwhich,myfingersclosedonthefingersofalittle,ice-coldhand!
Theintensehorrorofnightmarecameoverme:Itriedtodrawbackmyarm,butthehandclungtoit,andamostmelancholyvoicesobbed,“Letmein—letmein!”“Whoareyou?”
Iasked,struggling,meanwhile,todisengagemyself.
“CatherineLinton,”itreplied,shiveringly(whydidIthinkofLinton?
IhadreadEarnshawtwentytimesforLinton);“I’mcomehome:I’dlostmywayonthemoor!”
Asitspoke,Idiscerned,obscurely,achild’sfacelookingthroughthewindow.
Terrormademecruel;and,findingituselesstoattemptshakingthecreatureoff,Ipulleditswristontothebrokenpane,andrubbedittoandfrotillthebloodrandownandsoakedthebedclothes:stillitwailed,“Letmein!”
andmaintaineditstenaciousgrip,almostmaddeningmewithfear.“HowcanI?”Isaidatlength.
“Letmego,ifyouwantmetoletyouin!”
Thefingersrelaxed,Isnatchedminethroughthehole,hurriedlypiledthebooksupinapyramidagainstit,andstoppedmyearstoexcludethelamentableprayer.
Iseemedtokeepthemclosedaboveaquarterofanhour;yet,theinstantIlistenedagain,therewasthedolefulcrymoaningon!“Begone!”
Ishouted,“I’llneverletyouin,notifyoubegfortwentyyears.”
“Itistwentyyears,”mournedthevoice:“twentyyears.I’vebeenawaiffortwentyyears!”
Thereatbeganafeeblescratchingoutside,andthepileofbooksmovedasifthrustforward.
Itriedtojumpup;butcouldnotstiralimb;andsoyelledaloud,inafrenzyoffright.
Tomyconfusion,Idiscoveredtheyellwasnotideal:hastyfootstepsapproachedmychamberdoor;somebodypusheditopen,withavigoroushand,andalightglimmeredthroughthesquaresatthetopofthebed.
Isatshudderingyet,andwipingtheperspirationfrommyforehead:theintruderappearedtohesitate,andmutteredtohimself.
Atlast,hesaidinahalf-whisper,plainlynotexpectingananswer,“Isanyonehere?”
Iconsidereditbesttoconfessmypresence;forIknewHeathcliff’saccents,andfearedhemightsearchfurther,ifIkeptquiet.
Withthisintention,Iturnedandopenedthepanels.
Ishallnotsoonforgettheeffectmyactionproduced.
Heathcliffstoodneartheentranceinhisshirtandtrousers:withacandledrippingoverhisfingers,andhisfaceaswhiteasthewallbehindhim.
Thefirstcreakoftheoakstartledhimlikeanelectricshock!
thelightleapedfromhisholdtoadistanceofsomefeet,andhisagitationwassoextreme,thathecouldhardlypickitup.
“Itisonlyyourguest,sir,”Icalledout,desiroustosparehimthehumiliationofexposinghiscowardicefurther.
“Ihadthemisfortunetoscreaminmysleep,owingtoafrightfulnightmare.I’msorryIdisturbedyou.”
“Oh,Godconfoundyou,Mr.Lockwood!Iwishyouwereatthe-”commencedmyhost,settingthecandleonachair,becausehefounditimpossibletoholditsteady.“Andwhoshowedyouupintothisroom?”
hecontinued,crushinghisnailsintohispalms,andgrindinghisteethtosubduethemaxillaryconvulsions.“Whowasit?
I’veagoodmindtoturnthemoutofthehousethismoment!”
“Itwasyourservant,Zillah,”Ireplied,flingingmyselfontothefloor,andrapidlyresumingmygarments.
“Ishouldnotcareifyoudid,Mr.Heathcliff;sherichlydeservesit.
Isupposethatshewantedtogetanotherproofthattheplacewashaunted,atmyexpense.
Well,itis—swarmingwithghostsandgoblins!
Youhavereasoninshuttingitup,Iassureyou.
Noonewillthankyouforadozeinsuchaden!”
“Whatdoyoumean?”askedHeathcliff,“andwhatareyoudoing?
Liedownandfinishoutthenight,sinceyouarehere;but,forHeaven’ssake!
don’trepeatthathorridnoise;nothingcouldexcuseit,unlessyouwerehavingyourthroatcut!”
“Ifthelittlefiendhadgotinatthewindow,sheprobablywouldhavestrangledme!”Ireturned.
“I’mnotgoingtoendurethepersecutionsofyourhospitableancestorsagain.
WasnottheReverendJabesBranderhamakintoyouonthemother’sside?
Andthatminx,CatherineLinton,orEarnshaw,orhowevershewascalled—shemusthavebeenachangeling—wickedlittlesoul!
Shetoldmeshehadbeenwalkingtheearththosetwentyyears:ajustpunishmentforhermortaltransgressions,I’venodoubt!”
Scarcelywerethesewordsuttered,whenIrecollectedtheassociationofHeathcliff’swithCatherine’snameinthebook,whichhadcompletelyslippedfrommymemory,tillthusawakened.
Iblushedatmyinconsideration;but,withoutshowingfurtherconsciousnessoftheoffence,Ihastenedtoadd—“Thetruthis,sir,Ipassedthefirstpartofthenightin”—HereIstoppedafresh—Iwasabouttosay“perusingthoseoldvolumes,”thenitwouldhaverevealedmyknowledgeoftheirwritten,aswellastheirprintedcontents:so,correctingmyself,Iwenton,“inspellingoverthenamescratchedonthatwindowledge.
Amonotonousoccupation,calculatedtosetmeasleep,likecounting,or-”
“Whatcanyoumeanbytalkinginthiswaytome?”thunderedHeathcliffwithsavagevehemence.“How—howdareyou,undermyroof?—God!he’smadtospeakso!”Andhestruckhisforeheadwithrage.
Ididnotknowwhethertoresentthislanguageorpursuemyexplanation;butheseemedsopowerfullyaffectedthatItookpityandproceededwithmydreams;affirmingIhadneverheardtheappellationof“CatherineLinton”before,butreadingitoftenoverproducedanimpressionwhichpersonifieditselfwhenIhadnolongermyimaginationundercontrol.
Heathcliffgraduallyfellbackintotheshelterofthebed,asIspoke;finallysittingdownalmostconcealedbehindit.
Iguessed,however,byhisirregularandinterceptedbreathing,thathestruggledtovanquishanexcessofviolentemotion.
NotlikingtoshowhimthatIhadheardtheconflict,Icontinuedmytoiletterathernoisily,lookedatmywatch,andsoliloquisedonthelengthofthenight:“Notthreeo’clockyet!
Icouldhavetakenoathithadbeensix.
Timestagnateshere:wemustsurelyhaveretiredtorestateight!”
“Alwaysatnineinwinter,andriseatfour,”saidmyhost,suppressingagroan:and,asIfanciedbythemotionofhisarm’sshadow,dashingatearfromhiseyes.
“Mr.Lockwood,”headded,“youmaygointomyroom:you’llonlybeintheway,comingdownstairssoearly;andyourchildishoutcryhassentsleeptothedevilforme.”
“Andforme,too,”Ireplied.“I’llwalkintheyardtilldaylight,andthenI’llbeoff;andyouneednotdreadarepetitionofmyintrusion.
I’mnowquitecuredofseekingpleasureinsociety,beitcountryortown.
Asensiblemanoughttofindsufficientcompanyinhimself.”
“Delightfulcompany!”mutteredHeathcliff.
“Takethecandle,andgowhereyouplease.Ishalljoinyoudirectly.
Keepoutoftheyard,though,thedogsareunchained;andthehouse—Junomountssentinelthere,and—nay,youcanonlyrambleaboutthestepsandpassages.But,awaywithyou!I’llcomeintwominutes!”
Iobeyed,sofarastoquitthechamber;when,ignorantwherethenarrowlobbiesled,Istoodstill,andwaswitness,involuntarily,toapieceofsuperstitiononthepartofmylandlord,whichbelied,oddly,hisapparentsense.
Hegotontothebed,andwrenchedopenthelattice,bursting,ashepulledatit,intoanuncontrollablepassionoftears.“Comein!comein!”hesobbed.“Cathy,docome.Ohdo—oncemore!Oh!
myheart’sdarling;hearmethistime,Catherine,atlast!”
Thespectreshowedaspectre’sordinarycaprice:itgavenosignofbeing;butthesnowandwindwhirledwildlythroughevenreachingmystation,andblowingoutthelight.
Therewassuchananguishinthegushofgriefthataccompaniedthisraving,thatmycompassionmademeoverlookitsfolly,andIdrewoff,halfangrytohavelistenedatall,andvexedathavingrelatedmyridiculousnightmare,sinceitproducedthatagony;thoughwhy,wasbeyondmycomprehension.
Idescendedcautiouslytothelowerregions,andlandedinthebackkitchen,whereagleamoffire,rakedcompactlytogetherenabledmetorekindlemycandle.
Nothingwasstirringexceptabrindled,greycat,whichcreptfromtheashesandsalutedmewithaquerulousmew.
Twobenches,shapedinsectionsofacircle,nearlyenclosedthehearth;ononeoftheseIstretchedmyself,andGrimalkinmountedtheother.
Wewerebothofusnodding,ereanyoneinvadedourretreat,andthenitwasJoseph,shufflingdownawoodenladderthatvanishedintheroof,throughatrap:theascenttohisgarret,Isuppose.
HecastasinisterlookatthelittleflamewhichIhadenticedtoplaybetweentheribs,sweptthecatfromitselevation,andbestowinghimselfinthevacancy,commencedtheoperationofstuffingathree-inchpipewithtobacco.
Mypresenceinhissanctumwasevidentlyesteemedapieceofimpudencetooshamefulforremark:hesilentlyappliedthetubetohislips,foldedhisarms,andpuffedaway.
Ilethimenjoytheluxuryunannoyed;andaftersuckingouthislastwreath,andheavingaprofoundsigh,hegotup,anddepartedassolemnlyashecame.
Amoreelasticfootstepenterednext;andnowIopenedmymouthfora“goodmorning,”butcloseditagain,thesalutationunachieved;forHaretonEarnshawwasperforminghisorisonssottovoce,inaseriesofcursesdirectedagainsteveryobjecthetouched,whileherummagedacornerforaspadeorshoveltodigthroughthedrifts.
Heglancedoverthebackofthebenchdilatinghisnostrils,andthoughtaslittleofexchangingcivilitieswithmeaswithmycompanionthecat.
Iguessed,byhispreparations,thategresswasallowed,and,leavingmyhardcouch,madeamovementtofollowhim.
Henoticedthis,andthrustataninnerdoorwiththeendofhisspade,intimatingbyaninarticulatesoundthattherewastheplacewhereImustgo,ifIchangedmylocality.
Itopenedintothehouse,wherethefemaleswerealreadyastir.
Zillahurgingflakesofflameupthechimneywithacolossalbellows;andMrs.Heathcliff,kneelingonthehearthreadingabookbytheaidoftheblaze.
Sheheldherhandinterposedbetweenthefurnace-heatandhereyes,andseemedabsorbedinheroccupation;desistingfromitonlytochidetheservantforcoveringherwithsparks,ortopushawayadog,nowandthen,thatsnoozleditsnoseoverforwardlyintoherface.
IwassurprisedtoseeHeathclifftherealso.
Hestoodbythefire,hisbacktowardsme,justfinishingastormyscenetopoorZillah;whoeverandanoninterruptedherlabourtopluckupthecornerofherapron,andheaveanindignantgroan.
“Andyou,youworthless”—hebrokeout,asIentered,turningtohisdaughter-in-law,andemployinganepithetasharmlessasduck,orsheep,butgenerallyrepresentedbyadash-.
“Thereyouare,atyouridletricksagain!
Therestofthemdoearntheirbread—youliveonmycharity!
putyourtrashaway,andfindsomethingtodo.
Youshallpaymefortheplagueofhavingyoueternallyinmysight—doyouhear,damnablejade?”
“I’llputmytrashaway,becauseyoucanmakeme,ifIrefuse,”answeredtheyounglady,closingherbook,andthrowingitonachair.
“ButI’llnotdoanything,thoughyoushouldswearyourtongueout,exceptwhatIplease!”
Heathcliffliftedhishand,andthespeakersprangtoasaferdistance,obviouslyacquaintedwithitsweight.
Havingnodesiretobeentertainedbyacat-and-dogcombat,Isteppedforwardbriskly,asifeagertopartakethewarmthofthehearth,andinnocentofanyknowledgeoftheinterrupteddispute.
Eachhadenoughdecorumtosuspendfurtherhostilities:Heathcliffplacedhisfists,outoftemptation,inhispockets;Mrs.Heathcliffcurledherlip,andwalkedtoaseatfaroff,whereshekeptherwordbyplayingthepartofastatueduringtheremainderofmystay.Thatwasnotlong.
Ideclinedjoiningtheirbreakfast,and,atthefirstgleamofdawn,tookanopportunityofescapingintothefreeair,nowclear,andstill,andcoldasimpalpableice.
Mylandlordhallooedformetostop,ereIreachedthebottomofthegarden,andofferedtoaccompanymeacrossthemoor.
Itwaswellhedid,forthewholehillbackwasonebillowy,whiteocean;theswellsandfallsnotindicatingcorrespondingrisesanddepressionsintheground:manypits,atleast,werefilledtoalevel;andentirerangesofmounds,therefuseofthequarries,blottedfromthechartwhichmyyesterday’swalkleftpicturedinmymind.
Ihadremarkedononesideoftheroad,atintervalsofsixorsevenyards,alineofuprightstones,continuedthroughthewholelengthofthebarren:thesewereerected,anddaubedwithlimeonpurposetoserveasguidesinthedark;andalsowhenafall,likethepresent,confoundedthedeepswampsoneitherhandwiththefirmerpath:but,exceptingadirtydotpointinguphereandthere,alltracesoftheirexistencehadvanished:andmycompanionfounditnecessarytowarnmefrequentlytosteertotherightorleft,whenIimaginedIwasfollowing,correctly,thewindingsoftheroad.
Weexchangedlittleconversation,andhehaltedattheentranceofThrushcrossPark,saying,Icouldmakenoerrorthere.
Ouradieuxwerelimitedtoahastybow,andthenIpushedforward,trustingtomyownresources;fortheporter’slodgeisuntenantedasyet.
ThedistancefromthegatetotheGrangeistwomiles:IbelieveImanagedtomakeitfour;whatwithlosingmyselfamongthetrees,andsinkinguptomyneckinsnow:apredicamentwhichonlythosewhohaveexperienceditcanappreciate.
Atanyrate,whateverweremywanderings,theclockchimedtwelveasIenteredthehouse;andthatgaveexactlyanhourforeverymileoftheusualwayfromWutheringHeights.
Myhumanfixtureandhersatellitesrushedtowelcomeme;exclaiming,tumultuously,theyhadcompletelygivenmeup;everybodyconjecturedthatIperishedlastnight;andtheywerewonderinghowtheymustsetaboutthesearchformyremains.
Ibidthembequiet,nowthattheysawmereturned,and,benumbedtomyveryheart,Idraggedupstairs;whence,afterputtingondryclothes,andpacingtoandfrothirtyorfortyminutes,torestoretheanimalheat,Iamadjournedtomystudy,feebleasakitten:almosttoomuchsotoenjoythecheerfulfireandsmokingcoffeewhichtheservanthaspreparedformyrefreshment.
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