| 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 today.
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--(those 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
recognize 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
shan'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 farmhouse, 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 dare say 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
bulldog from its lair in a corner. Now, wilt tuh 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? Minching
Un' munching! How can Aw 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.
`Nor nuh me! I getten summat 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 bulldog.'
`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 refastened 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
maidservant? 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 times 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 they's tuh be fresh ortherings--just
when Aw gettin used tuh two maisters, if Aw mun hev a mistress set
o'er my heead, it's loike time tuh be flitting. Aw niver did think
tuh say t' day ut Aw mud lave th' owld place--but Aw daht it's nigh
at hend!'
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, thah willut sup thy porridge
tuh neight; they'll be nowt bud lumps as big as maw nave. Thear,
agean! Aw'd fling in bowl un all, if Aw wer yah! There, pale t'
guilp off, un' then yah'll hae done wi't. Bang, bang. It's a marcy
t' bothom isn't deaved aht!'
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 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 upstairs!' 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 opening 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 tuh ate a few porridge in. They's a
pack o' corn i' t' corner, thear, meeterly clane; if yah're feared
uh 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 bedroom.
`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 yah're wenting!' cried he, as if
making a new discovery. `Couldn't ye uh said soa, at onst? un then,
Aw mud uh telled ye, baht all this wark, ut that's just one yah
cannut sea--he alIas 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 valances 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 wold ye gang? ye marred, wearisome
nowt! Yah seen all bud Hareton's bit uf a cham'er. They's not another
hoile tuh lig dahn 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! Hahsiver, t' maister saIl just tum'le o'er them brocken
pots; un' then we's hear summut; we's hear hah it's tuh be. Gooid-for-nowt
madling! yah desarve pining froo this to Churstmas, flinging t'
precious gifts uh God under fooit i' yer flaysome rages! Bud Aw'm
mista'en if yah shew yer sperrit lang. Will Hathecliff bide sich
bonny ways, think ye? Aw nobbut wish he muh cotch ye i' that plisky.
Aw 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 recognized 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 downstairs, 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 allas
maks a third, i' such 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 anyone at the Grange. I shall expect you every
day--don't disappoint me!
ISABELLA.
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