| Summer was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded
his assent to their entreaties, and Catherine and I set out on our
first ride to join her cousin. It was a close, sultry day: devoid
of sunshine, but with a sky too dappled and hazy to threaten rain;
and our place of meeting had been fixed at the guide-stone, by the
crossroads. On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, dispatched
as a messenger, told us that:
`Maister Linton wer just ut this side th' Heights: and he'd be
mitch obleeged to us to gang on a bit farther.'
`Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle,'
I observed: `he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are
off at once.'
`Well, we'll turn our horses' heads round, when we reach him,'
answered my companion, `our excursion shall lie towards home.'
But when we reached him, and that was scarcely a quarter of a mile
from his own door, we found he had no horse; and we were forced
to dismount, and leave ours to graze. He lay on the heath, awaiting
our approach, and did not rise till we came within a few yards.
Then he walked so feebly, and looked so pale, that I immediately
exclaimed:
`Why, Master Heathcliff, you are not fit for enjoying a ramble,
this morning. How ill you do look!'
Catherine surveyed him with grief and astonishment; and changed
the ejaculation of joy on her lips, to one of alarm; and the congratulation
on their long-postponed meeting, to an anxious inquiry, whether
he were worse than usual?
`No--better--better!' he panted, trembling, and retaining her hand
as if he needed its support, while his large blue eyes wandered
timidly over her; the hollowness round them transforming to haggard
wildness the languid expression they once possessed.
`But you have been worse,' persisted his cousin; `worse than when
I saw you last; you are thinner, and--
`I'm tired,' he interrupted hurriedly. `It is too hot for walking,
let us rest here. And, in the morning, I often feel sick--papa says
I grow so fast.'
Badly satisfied, Cathy sat down, and he reclined beside her.
`This is something like your paradise,' said she, making an effort
at cheerfulness. `You recollect the two days we agreed to spend
in the place and way each thought pleasantest? This is surely yours,
only there are clouds: but then they are so soft and mellow: it
is nicer than sunshine. Next week, if you can, we'll ride down to
the Grange Park, and try mine.'
Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of; and he had
evidently great difficulty in sustaining any kind of conversation.
His lack of interest in the subjects she started, and his equal
incapacity to contribute to her entertainment, were so obvious that
she could not conceal her disappointment. An indefinite alteration
had come over his whole person and manner. The pettishness that
might be caressed into fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy;
there was less of the peevish temper of a child which frets and
teases on purpose to be soothed, and more of the self-absorbed moroseness
of a confirmed invalid, repelling consolation, and ready to regard
the good-humoured mirth of others as an insult. Catherine perceived,
as well as I did, that he held it rather a punishment, than a gratification,
to endure our company; and she made no scruple of proposing, presently,
to depart. That proposal, unexpectedly, roused Linton from his lethargy,
and threw him into a strange state of agitation. He glanced fearfully
towards the Heights, begging she would remain another half-hour
at least.
`But I think', said Cathy, `you'd be more comfortable at home than
sitting here; and I cannot amuse you today, I see, by my tales,
and songs, and chatter: you have grown wiser than I, in these six
months; you have little taste for my diversions now: or else, if
I could amuse you, I'd willingly stay.'
`Stay to rest yourself,' he replied. `And Catherine, don't think,
or say that I'm very unwell: it is the heavy weather and heat that
make me dull; and I walked about, before you came, a great deal
for me. Tell uncle I'm in tolerable health, will you?'
`I'll tell him that you say so, Linton. I couldn't affirm that
you are,' observed my young lady, wondering at his pertinacious
assertion of what was evidently an untruth.
`And be here again next Thursday,' continued he, shunning her puzzled
gaze. `And give him my thanks for permitting you to come--my best
thanks, Catherine. And-and, if you did meet my father, and he asked
you about me, don't lead him to suppose that I've been extremely
silent and stupid: don't look sad and downcast, as you are doing--he'll
be angry.'
`I care nothing for his anger,' exclaimed Cathy, imagining she
would be its object.
`But I do,' said her cousin, shuddering. `Don't provoke him against
me, Catherine, for he is very hard.'
`Is he severe to you, Master Heathcliff?' I inquired. `Has he grown
weary of indulgence, and passed from passive to active hatred?'
Linton looked at me, but did not answer; and, after keeping her
seat by his side another ten minutes, during which his head fell
drowsily on his breast, and he uttered nothing except suppressed
moans of exhaustion or pain, Cathy began to seek solace in looking
for bilberries, and sharing the produce of her researches with me:
she did not offer them to him, for she saw further notice would
only weary and annoy.
`Is it half an hour now, Ellen?' she whispered in my ear, at last.
`I can't tell why we should stay. He's asleep, and papa will be
wanting us back.'
`Well, we must not leave him asleep,' I answered; `wait till he
wakes, and be patient. You were mighty eager to set off, but your
longing to see poor Linton has soon evaporated!'
`Why did he wish to see me?' returned Catherine. `In his crossest
humours, formerly, I liked him better than I do in his present curious
mood. It's just as if it were a task he was compelled to perform--this
interview--for fear his father should scold him. But I'm hardly
going to come to give Mr Heathcliff pleasure; whatever reason he
may have for ordering Linton to undergo this penance. And, though
I'm glad he's better in health, I'm sorry he's so much less pleasant,
and so much less affectionate to me.'
`You think he is better in health then?' I said.
`Yes,' she answered; `because he always made such a great deal
of his sufferings, you know. He is not tolerably well, as he told
me to tell papa; but he's better, very likely.'
`There you differ with me, Miss Cathy,' I remarked; `I should conjecture
him to be far worse.'
Linton here started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and
asked if anyone had called his name.
`No,' said Catherine; `unless in dreams. I cannot conceive how
you manage to doze out of doors, in the morning.'
`I thought I heard my father,' he gasped, glancing up to the frowning
nab above us. `You are sure nobody spoke?'
`Quite sure,' replied his cousin. `Only Ellen and I were disputing
concerning your health. Are you truly stronger, Linton, than when
we separated in winter? If you be I'm certain one thing is not stronger--your
regard for me: speak,--are you?'
The tears gushed from Linton's eyes as he answered, `Yes, yes,
I am!' And, still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze
wandered up and down to detect its owner. Cathy rose. `For today
we must part,' she said. `And I won't conceal that I have been sadly
disappointed with our meeting; though I'll mention it to nobody
but you: not that I stand in awe of Mr Heathcliff.'
`Hush,' murmured Linton: `for God's sake, hush! He's coming.' And
he clung to Catherine's arm, striving to detain her; but at that
announcement she hastily disengaged herself, and whistled to Minny,
who obeyed her like a dog.
`I'll be here next Thursday,' she cried, springing to the saddle.
`Goodbye. Quick, Ellen!'
And so we left him, scarcely conscious of our departure, so absorbed
was he in anticipating his father's approach.
Before we reached home, Catherine's displeasure softened into a
perplexed sensation of pity and regret, largely blended with vague,
uneasy doubts about Linton's actual circumstances, physical and
social; in which I partook, though I counselled her not to say much;
for a second journey would make us better judges. My master requested
an account of our ongoings. His nephew's offering of thanks was
duly delivered, Miss Cathy gently touching on the rest: I also threw
little light on his inquiries, for I hardly knew what to hide, and
what to reveal.
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