| 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 place 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 liked 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 upstairs in the dark. No Catherine could I discover upstairs,
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 recognized 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 to, 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 upstairs on the morrow, I escaped
that trouble; and 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 armchair, and I in the little rocking-chair
on the hearthstone, 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 blind-man'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 much 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, nah.''
` ``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 tonight, 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.
``Aw wer sure he'd sarve ye eht! He's a grand lad! He's getten
t' raight sperrit in him! He knaws--Aye, he knaws, as weel as Aw
do, who sud be t'maister yonder--Ech, ech, ech! He mad ye skift
properly! Ech, ech, ech!''
``Where must we go?'' I said to 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 alIas
summut uh orther 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 upstairs. 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
roadside, 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, 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 armchair 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 goodbye; 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 goodbye:
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 he 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; and 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 tomorrow, 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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