Wuthering Heights, Page 24

  CHAPTER XXIV

  At the close of three weeks I was able to quit my chamber and move aboutthe house. And on the first occasion of my sitting up in the evening Iasked Catherine to read to me, because my eyes were weak. We were in thelibrary, the master having gone to bed: she consented, ratherunwillingly, I fancied; and imagining my sort of books did not suit her,I bid her please herself in the choice of what she perused. She selectedone of her own favourites, and got forward steadily about an hour; thencame frequent questions.

  'Ellen, are not you tired? Hadn't you better lie down now? You'll besick, keeping up so long, Ellen.'

  'No, no, dear, I'm not tired,' I returned, continually.

  Perceiving me immovable, she essayed another method of showing herdisrelish 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 looked at her watch tilleight, and finally went to her room, completely overdone with sleep;judging by her peevish, heavy look, and the constant rubbing sheinflicted on her eyes. The following night she seemed more impatientstill; and on the third from recovering my company she complained of aheadache, and left me. I thought her conduct odd; and having remainedalone a long while, I resolved on going and inquiring whether she werebetter, and asking her to come and lie on the sofa, instead of up-stairsin the dark. No Catherine could I discover up-stairs, and none below.The servants affirmed they had not seen her. I listened at Mr. Edgar'sdoor; all was silence. I returned to her apartment, extinguished mycandle, and seated myself in the window.

  The moon shone bright; a sprinkling of snow covered the ground, and Ireflected that she might, possibly, have taken it into her head to walkabout the garden, for refreshment. I did detect a figure creeping alongthe inner fence of the park; but it was not my young mistress: on itsemerging into the light, I recognised one of the grooms. He stood aconsiderable period, viewing the carriage-road through the grounds; thenstarted off at a brisk pace, as if he had detected something, andreappeared presently, leading Miss's pony; and there she was, justdismounted, and walking by its side. The man took his charge stealthilyacross the grass towards the stable. Cathy entered by thecasement-window of the drawing-room, and glided noiselessly up to where Iawaited her. She put the door gently too, slipped off her snowy shoes,untied her hat, and was proceeding, unconscious of my espionage, to layaside her mantle, when I suddenly rose and revealed myself. The surprisepetrified her an instant: she uttered an inarticulate exclamation, andstood fixed.

  'My dear Miss Catherine,' I began, too vividly impressed by her recentkindness to break into a scold, 'where have you been riding out at thishour? And why should you try to deceive me by telling a tale? Wherehave 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 doingwrong, or you wouldn't be driven to uttering an untruth to me. That doesgrieve me. I'd rather be three months ill, than hear you frame adeliberate lie.'

  She sprang forward, and bursting into tears, threw her arms round myneck.

  'Well, Ellen, I'm so afraid of you being angry,' she said. 'Promise notto 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, whateverher 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 daysince you fell ill; except thrice before, and twice after you left yourroom. 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. Iwas at the Heights by half-past six, and generally stayed till half-pasteight, and then galloped home. It was not to amuse myself that I went: Iwas often wretched all the time. Now and then I was happy: once in aweek perhaps. At first, I expected there would be sad work persuadingyou to let me keep my word to Linton: for I had engaged to call againnext day, when we quitted him; but, as you stayed up-stairs on themorrow, I escaped that trouble. While Michael was refastening the lockof the park door in the afternoon, I got possession of the key, and toldhim how my cousin wished me to visit him, because he was sick, andcouldn't come to the Grange; and how papa would object to my going: andthen I negotiated with him about the pony. He is fond of reading, and hethinks of leaving soon to get married; so he offered, if I would lend himbooks out of the library, to do what I wished: but I preferred giving himmy own, and that satisfied him better.

  'On my second visit Linton seemed in lively spirits; and Zillah (that istheir housekeeper) made us a clean room and a good fire, and told usthat, as Joseph was out at a prayer-meeting and Hareton Earnshaw was offwith his dogs--robbing our woods of pheasants, as I heard afterwards--wemight do what we liked. She brought me some warm wine and gingerbread,and appeared exceedingly good-natured, and Linton sat in the arm-chair,and I in the little rocking chair on the hearth-stone, and we laughed andtalked so merrily, and found so much to say: we planned where we wouldgo, and what we would do in summer. I needn't repeat that, because youwould call it silly.

  'One time, however, we were near quarrelling. He said the pleasantestmanner of spending a hot July day was lying from morning till evening ona bank of heath in the middle of the moors, with the bees hummingdreamily about among the bloom, and the larks singing high up overhead,and the blue sky and bright sun shining steadily and cloudlessly. Thatwas his most perfect idea of heaven's happiness: mine was rocking in arustling green tree, with a west wind blowing, and bright white cloudsflitting rapidly above; and not only larks, but throstles, andblackbirds, and linnets, and cuckoos pouring out music on every side, andthe moors seen at a distance, broken into cool dusky dells; but close bygreat swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze; and woodsand sounding water, and the whole world awake and wild with joy. Hewanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle anddance 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; andhe said he could not breathe in mine, and began to grow very snappish. Atlast, we agreed to try both, as soon as the right weather came; and thenwe kissed each other and were friends.

  'After sitting still an hour, I looked at the great room with its smoothuncarpeted floor, and thought how nice it would be to play in, if weremoved the table; and I asked Linton to call Zillah in to help us, andwe'd have a game at blindman's-buff; she should try to catch us: you usedto, 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 andshuttlecocks. One was marked C., and the other H.; I wished to have theC., 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 beathim constantly: and he got cross again, and coughed, and returned to hischair. That night, though, he easily recovered his good humour: he wascharmed with two or three pretty songs--_your_ songs, Ellen; and when Iwas obliged to go, he begged and entreated me to come the followingevening; and I promised. Minny and I went flying home as light as air;and I dreamt of Wuthering Heights and my sweet, darling cousin, tillmorning.

  'On the morrow I was sad; partly because you were poorly, and partly thatI wished my father knew, and approved of my excursions: but it wasbeautiful moonlight after tea; and, as I rode on, the gloom cleared. Ishall have another happy evening, I thought to myself; and what delightsme more, my pretty Linton will. I trotted up their garden, and wasturning round to the back, when that fellow Earnshaw met me, took mybridle, 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 speakto him. I only told him to leave my horse alone, or e
lse it would kickhim. He answered in his vulgar accent, "It wouldn't do mitch hurt if itdid;" and surveyed its legs with a smile. I was half inclined to make ittry; 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 ofawkwardness and elation: "Miss Catherine! I can read yon, now."

  '"Wonderful," I exclaimed. "Pray let us hear you--you _are_ grownclever!"

  'He spelt, and drawled over by syllables, the name--"Hareton Earnshaw."

  '"And the figures?" I cried, encouragingly, perceiving that he came to adead 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 scowlgathering over his eyes, as if uncertain whether he might not join in mymirth: whether it were not pleasant familiarity, or what it really was,contempt. I settled his doubts, by suddenly retrieving my gravity anddesiring him to walk away, for I came to see Linton, not him. Hereddened--I saw that by the moonlight--dropped his hand from the latch,and skulked off, a picture of mortified vanity. He imagined himself tobe as accomplished as Linton, I suppose, because he could spell his ownname; and was marvellously discomfited that I didn't think the same.'

  'Stop, Miss Catherine, dear!'--I interrupted. 'I shall not scold, but Idon't like your conduct there. If you had remembered that Hareton wasyour cousin as much as Master Heathcliff, you would have felt howimproper it was to behave in that way. At least, it was praiseworthyambition for him to desire to be as accomplished as Linton; and probablyhe did not learn merely to show off: you had made him ashamed of hisignorance before, I have no doubt; and he wished to remedy it and pleaseyou. To sneer at his imperfect attempt was very bad breeding. Had youbeen brought up in his circumstances, would you be less rude? He was asquick and as intelligent a child as ever you were; and I'm hurt that heshould be despised now, because that base Heathcliff has treated him sounjustly.'

  'Well, Ellen, you won't cry about it, will you?' she exclaimed, surprisedat my earnestness. 'But wait, and you shall hear if he conned his A B Cto please me; and if it were worth while being civil to the brute. Ientered; Linton was lying on the settle, and half got up to welcome me.

  '"I'm ill to-night, Catherine, love," he said; "and you must have all thetalk, and let me listen. Come, and sit by me. I was sure you wouldn'tbreak 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 softlyand put no questions, and avoided irritating him in any way. I hadbrought some of my nicest books for him: he asked me to read a little ofone, and I was about to comply, when Earnshaw burst the door open: havinggathered venom with reflection. He advanced direct to us, seized Lintonby the arm, and swung him off the seat.

  '"Get to thy own room!" he said, in a voice almost inarticulate withpassion; and his face looked swelled and furious. "Take her there if shecomes to see thee: thou shalln't keep me out of this. Begone wi' yeboth!"

  'He swore at us, and left Linton no time to answer, nearly throwing himinto the kitchen; and he clenched his fist as I followed, seeminglylonging to knock me down. I was afraid for a moment, and I let onevolume fall; he kicked it after me, and shut us out. I heard amalignant, crackly laugh by the fire, and turning, beheld that odiousJoseph standing rubbing his bony hands, and quivering.

  '"I wer sure he'd sarve ye out! He's a grand lad! He's getten t' raightsperrit in him! _He_ knaws--ay, he knaws, as weel as I do, who sud be t'maister yonder--Ech, ech, ech! He made ye skift properly! Ech, ech,ech!"

  '"Where must we go?" I asked of my cousin, disregarding the old wretch'smockery.

  '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 intoan expression of frantic, powerless fury. He grasped the handle of thedoor, 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'llkill you!" he rather shrieked than said. "Devil! devil!--I'll killyou--I'll kill you!"

  Joseph uttered his croaking laugh again.

  '"Thear, that's t' father!" he cried. "That's father! We've allassummut o' either 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 heshrieked so shockingly that I dared not proceed. At last his cries werechoked by a dreadful fit of coughing; blood gushed from his mouth, and hefell on the ground. I ran into the yard, sick with terror; and calledfor Zillah, as loud as I could. She soon heard me: she was milking thecows in a shed behind the barn, and hurrying from her work, she inquiredwhat there was to do? I hadn't breath to explain; dragging her in, Ilooked about for Linton. Earnshaw had come out to examine the mischiefhe had caused, and he was then conveying the poor thing up-stairs. Zillahand I ascended after him; but he stopped me at the top of the steps, andsaid I shouldn't go in: I must go home. I exclaimed that he had killedLinton, and I _would_ enter. Joseph locked the door, and declared Ishould do "no sich stuff," and asked me whether I were "bahn to be as madas him." I stood crying till the housekeeper reappeared. She affirmedhe would be better in a bit, but he couldn't do with that shrieking anddin; 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 sothat my eyes were almost blind; and the ruffian you have such sympathywith stood opposite: presuming every now and then to bid me "wisht," anddenying that it was his fault; and, finally, frightened by my assertionsthat I would tell papa, and that he should be put in prison and hanged,he commenced blubbering himself, and hurried out to hide his cowardlyagitation. Still, I was not rid of him: when at length they compelled meto depart, and I had got some hundred yards off the premises, he suddenlyissued from the shadow of the road-side, and checked Minny and took holdof 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. Helet go, thundering one of his horrid curses, and I galloped home morethan half out of my senses.

  'I didn't bid you good-night that evening, and I didn't go to WutheringHeights the next: I wished to go exceedingly; but I was strangelyexcited, and dreaded to hear that Linton was dead, sometimes; andsometimes shuddered at the thought of encountering Hareton. On the thirdday I took courage: at least, I couldn't bear longer suspense, and stoleoff once more. I went at five o'clock, and walked; fancying I mightmanage to creep into the house, and up to Linton's room, unobserved.However, the dogs gave notice of my approach. Zillah received me, andsaying "the lad was mending nicely," showed me into a small, tidy,carpeted apartment, where, to my inexpressible joy, I beheld Linton laidon a little sofa, reading one of my books. But he would neither speak tome nor look at me, through a whole hour, Ellen: he has such an unhappytemper. And what quite confounded me, when he did open his mouth, it wasto utter the falsehood that I had occasioned the uproar, and Hareton wasnot to blame! Unable to reply, except passionately, I got up and walkedfrom the room. He sent after me a faint "Catherine!" He did not reckonon being answered so: but I wouldn't turn back; and the morrow was thesecond day on which I stayed at home, nearly determined to visit him nomore. But it was so miserable going to bed and getting up, and neverhearing anything about him, that my resolution melted into air before itwas properly formed. It had appeared wrong to take the journey once; nowit 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 thehills. I was forced to pass the front windows to get to the court: itwas no use trying to conceal my presence.

  '"Young master is in the house," said Zillah, as she saw me making forthe parlour. I went in; Earnshaw was there also, but he quitted the roomdirectly. Linton sat in the great arm-chair half asleep; walking up tothe 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 tohurt you, and pretend that I do so every time, this is our last meeting:let us say good-bye; and tell Mr. Heathcliff that you have no wish to seeme, and that he mustn't invent any more falsehoods on the subject."

  '"Sit down and take your hat off, Catherine," he answered. "You are somuch happier than I am, you ought to be better. Papa talks enough of mydefects, and shows enough scorn of me, to make it natural I should doubtmyself. 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 amworthless, and bad in temper, and bad in spirit, almost always; and, ifyou choose, you may say good-bye: you'll get rid of an annoyance. Only,Catherine, do me this justice: believe that if I might be as sweet, andas 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 melove you deeper than if I deserved your love: and though I couldn't, andcannot help showing my nature to you, I regret it and repent it; andshall regret and repent it till I die!"

  'I felt he spoke the truth; and I felt I must forgive him: and, though weshould quarrel the next moment, I must forgive him again. We werereconciled; but we cried, both of us, the whole time I stayed: notentirely 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 easehimself! 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 werethe first evening; the rest of my visits were dreary and troubled: nowwith his selfishness and spite, and now with his sufferings: but I'velearned to endure the former with nearly as little resentment as thelatter. Mr. Heathcliff purposely avoids me: I have hardly seen him atall. Last Sunday, indeed, coming earlier than usual, I heard him abusingpoor Linton cruelly for his conduct of the night before. I can't tellhow he knew of it, unless he listened. Linton had certainly behavedprovokingly: however, it was the business of nobody but me, and Iinterrupted Mr. Heathcliff's lecture by entering and telling him so. Heburst into a laugh, and went away, saying he was glad I took that view ofthe matter. Since then, I've told Linton he must whisper his bitterthings. Now, Ellen, you have heard all. I can't be prevented from goingto Wuthering Heights, except by inflicting misery on two people; whereas,if you'll only not tell papa, my going need disturb the tranquillity ofnone. You'll not tell, will you? It will be very heartless, if you do.'

  'I'll make up my mind on that point by to-morrow, Miss Catherine,' Ireplied. '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 fromher room to his, and relating the whole story: with the exception of herconversations with her cousin, and any mention of Hareton. Mr. Lintonwas alarmed and distressed, more than he would acknowledge to me. In themorning, Catherine learnt my betrayal of her confidence, and she learntalso that her secret visits were to end. In vain she wept and writhedagainst 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 himleave to come to the Grange when he pleased; but explaining that he mustno longer expect to see Catherine at Wuthering Heights. Perhaps, had hebeen aware of his nephew's disposition and state of health, he would haveseen fit to withhold even that slight consolation.