No More Learning

I snuffed it off, and, very
ill at ease under the influence of cold and lingering nausea, sat up and
spread open the injured tome on my knee. It was a Testament, in lean
type, and smelling dreadfully musty: a fly-leaf bore the
inscription--'Catherine Earnshaw, her book,' and a date some quarter of a
century back. I shut it, and took up another and another, till I had
examined all. Catherine's library was select, and its state of
dilapidation proved it to have been well used, though not altogether for
a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter had escaped, a pen-and-ink
commentary--at least the appearance of one--covering every morsel of
blank that the printer had left. Some were detached sentences; other
parts took the form of a regular diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish
hand. At the top of an extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when
first lighted on) I was greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature
of my friend Joseph,--rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate
interest kindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began
forthwith to decipher her faded hieroglyphics.

'An awful Sunday,' commenced the paragraph beneath. 'I wish my father
were back again. Hindley is a detestable substitute--his conduct to
Heathcliff is atrocious--H. and I are going to rebel--we took our
initiatory step this evening.

'All day had been flooding with rain; we could not go to church, so
Joseph must needs get up a congregation in the garret; and, while Hindley
and his wife basked downstairs before a comfortable fire--doing anything
but reading their Bibles, I'll answer for it--Heathcliff, myself, and the
unhappy ploughboy were commanded to take our prayer-books, and mount: we
were ranged in a row, on a sack of corn, groaning and shivering, and
hoping that Joseph would shiver too, so that he might give us a short
homily for his own sake. A vain idea! The service lasted precisely
three hours; and yet my brother had the face to exclaim, when he saw us
descending, "What, done already? " On Sunday evenings we used to be
permitted to play, if we did not make much noise; now a mere titter is
sufficient to send us into corners.

'"You forget you have a master here," says the tyrant. "I'll demolish
the first who puts me out of temper! I insist on perfect sobriety and
silence. Oh, boy! was that you? Frances darling, pull his hair as you
go by: I heard him snap his fingers. " Frances pulled his hair heartily,
and then went and seated herself on her husband's knee, and there they
were, like two babies, kissing and talking nonsense by the hour--foolish
palaver that we should be ashamed of. We made ourselves as snug as our
means allowed in the arch of the dresser. I had just fastened our
pinafores together, and hung them up for a curtain, when in comes Joseph,
on an errand from the stables. He tears down my handiwork, boxes my
ears, and croaks:

'"T' maister nobbut just buried, and Sabbath not o'ered, und t' sound o'
t' gospel still i' yer lugs, and ye darr be laiking! Shame on ye! sit ye
down, ill childer! there's good books eneugh if ye'll read 'em: sit ye
down, and think o' yer sowls! "

'Saying this, he compelled us so to square our positions that we might
receive from the far-off fire a dull ray to show us the text of the
lumber he thrust upon us. I could not bear the employment. I took my
dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dog-kennel, vowing I
hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. Then there
was a hubbub!

'"Maister Hindley! " shouted our chaplain. "Maister, coom hither! Miss
Cathy's riven th' back off 'Th' Helmet o' Salvation,' un' Heathcliff's
pawsed his fit into t' first part o' 'T' Brooad Way to Destruction! ' It's
fair flaysome that ye let 'em go on this gait. Ech! th' owd man wad ha'
laced 'em properly--but he's goan! "

'Hindley hurried up from his paradise on the hearth, and seizing one of
us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both into the
back-kitchen; where, Joseph asseverated, "owd Nick" would fetch us as
sure as we were living: and, so comforted, we each sought a separate
nook to await his advent. I reached this book, and a pot of ink from a
shelf, and pushed the house-door ajar to give me light, and I have got
the time on with writing for twenty minutes; but my companion is
impatient, and proposes that we should appropriate the dairywoman's
cloak, and have a scamper on the moors, under its shelter. A pleasant
suggestion--and then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his
prophecy verified--we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we
are here. '

* * * * * *

I suppose Catherine fulfilled her project, for the next sentence took up
another subject: she waxed lachrymose.

'How little did I dream that Hindley would ever make me cry so! ' she
wrote. 'My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow; and still I
can't give over. Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and
won't let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and
I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if
we break his orders. He has been blaming our father (how dared he? ) for
treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right
place--'

* * * * * *

I began to nod drowsily over the dim page: my eye wandered from
manuscript to print. I saw a red ornamented title--'Seventy Times Seven,
and the First of the Seventy-First. A Pious Discourse delivered by the
Reverend Jabez Branderham, in the Chapel of Gimmerden Sough. ' And while
I was, half-consciously, worrying my brain to guess what Jabez Branderham
would make of his subject, I sank back in bed, and fell asleep. Alas,
for the effects of bad tea and bad temper! What else could it be that
made me pass such a terrible night? I don't remember another that I can
at all compare with it since I was capable of suffering.

I began to dream, almost before I ceased to be sensible of my locality. I
thought it was morning; and I had set out on my way home, with Joseph for
a guide. The snow lay yards deep in our road; and, as we floundered on,
my companion wearied me with constant reproaches that I had not brought a
pilgrim's staff: telling me that I could never get into the house without
one, and boastfully flourishing a heavy-headed cudgel, which I understood
to be so denominated. For a moment I considered it absurd that I should
need such a weapon to gain admittance into my own residence. Then a new
idea flashed across me. I was not going there: we were journeying to
hear the famous Jabez Branderham preach, from the text--'Seventy Times
Seven;' and either Joseph, the preacher, or I had committed the 'First of
the Seventy-First,' and were to be publicly exposed and excommunicated.

We came to the chapel. I have passed it really in my walks, twice or
thrice; it lies in a hollow, between two hills: an elevated hollow, near
a swamp, whose peaty moisture is said to answer all the purposes of
embalming on the few corpses deposited there. The roof has been kept
whole hitherto; but as the clergyman's stipend is only twenty pounds per
annum, and a house with two rooms, threatening speedily to determine into
one, no clergyman will undertake the duties of pastor: especially as it
is currently reported that his flock would rather let him starve than
increase the living by one penny from their own pockets. However, in my
dream, Jabez had a full and attentive congregation; and he preached--good
God! what a sermon; divided into _four hundred and ninety_ parts, each
fully equal to an ordinary address from the pulpit, and each discussing a
separate sin! Where he searched for them, I cannot tell. He had his
private manner of interpreting the phrase, and it seemed necessary the
brother should sin different sins on every occasion. They were of the
most curious character: odd transgressions that I never imagined
previously.

Oh, how weary I grow. How I writhed, and yawned, and nodded, and
revived! How I pinched and pricked myself, and rubbed my eyes, and stood
up, and sat down again, and nudged Joseph to inform me if he would _ever_
have done. I was condemned to hear all out: finally, he reached the
'_First of the Seventy-First_. ' At that crisis, a sudden inspiration
descended on me; I was moved to rise and denounce Jabez Branderham as the
sinner of the sin that no Christian need pardon.

'Sir,' I exclaimed, 'sitting here within these four walls, at one
stretch, I have endured and forgiven the four hundred and ninety heads of
your discourse. Seventy times seven times have I plucked up my hat and
been about to depart--Seventy times seven times have you preposterously
forced me to resume my seat. The four hundred and ninety-first is too
much. Fellow-martyrs, have at him! Drag him down, and crush him to
atoms, that the place which knows him may know him no more! '

'_Thou art the Man_! ' cried Jabez, after a solemn pause, leaning over his
cushion. 'Seventy times seven times didst thou gapingly contort thy
visage--seventy times seven did I take counsel with my soul--Lo, this is
human weakness: this also may be absolved! The First of the
Seventy-First is come. Brethren, execute upon him the judgment written.
Such honour have all His saints! '

With that concluding word, the whole assembly, exalting their pilgrim's
staves, rushed round me in a body; and I, having no weapon to raise in
self-defence, commenced grappling with Joseph, my nearest and most
ferocious assailant, for his. In the confluence of the multitude,
several clubs crossed; blows, aimed at me, fell on other sconces.
Presently the whole chapel resounded with rappings and counter rappings:
every man's hand was against his neighbour; and Branderham, unwilling to
remain idle, poured forth his zeal in a shower of loud taps on the boards
of the pulpit, which responded so smartly that, at last, to my
unspeakable relief, they woke me. And what was it that had suggested the
tremendous tumult? What had played Jabez's part in the row? Merely the
branch of a fir-tree that touched my lattice as the blast wailed by, and
rattled its dry cones against the panes! I listened doubtingly an
instant; detected the disturber, then turned and dozed, and dreamt again:
if possible, still more disagreeably than before.

This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet, and I heard
distinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard, also,
the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it to the right
cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved to silence it, if
possible; and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured to unhasp the casement.
The hook was soldered into the staple: a circumstance observed by me when
awake, but forgotten. 'I must stop it, nevertheless! ' I muttered,
knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to
seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the
fingers of a little, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came
over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a
most melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in--let me in! ' 'Who are you? ' I
asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself. 'Catherine Linton,'
it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of _Linton_? I had read
_Earnshaw_ twenty times for Linton)--'I'm come home: I'd lost my way on
the moor! ' As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking
through the window. Terror made me cruel; and, finding it useless to
attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken
pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the
bedclothes: still it wailed, 'Let me in! ' and maintained its tenacious
gripe, almost maddening me with fear. 'How can I! ' I said at length.
'Let _me_ go, if you want me to let you in! ' The fingers relaxed, I
snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid
against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer. I
seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the instant I
listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on! 'Begone! ' I
shouted. 'I'll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years. ' 'It
is twenty years,' mourned the voice: 'twenty years. I've been a waif for
twenty years! ' Thereat began a feeble scratching outside, and the pile
of books moved as if thrust forward. I tried to jump up; but could not
stir a limb; and so yelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright. To my
confusion, I discovered the yell was not ideal: hasty footsteps
approached my chamber door; somebody pushed it open, with a vigorous
hand, and a light glimmered through the squares at the top of the bed. I
sat shuddering yet, and wiping the perspiration from my forehead: the
intruder appeared to hesitate, and muttered to himself. At last, he
said, in a half-whisper, plainly not expecting an answer, 'Is any one
here? ' I considered it best to confess my presence; for I knew
Heathcliff's accents, and feared he might search further, if I kept
quiet. With this intention, I turned and opened the panels. I shall not
soon forget the effect my action produced.

Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; with a
candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as the wall
behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like an electric
shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some feet, and his
agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up.

'It is only your guest, sir,' I called out, desirous to spare him the
humiliation of exposing his cowardice further. 'I had the misfortune to
scream in my sleep, owing to a frightful nightmare. I'm sorry I
disturbed you. '

'Oh, God confound you, Mr. Lockwood! I wish you were at the--' commenced
my host, setting the candle on a chair, because he found it impossible to
hold it steady. 'And who showed you up into this room? ' he continued,
crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his teeth to subdue the
maxillary convulsions. 'Who was it? I've a good mind to turn them out
of the house this moment? '

'It was your servant Zillah,' I replied, flinging myself on to the floor,
and rapidly resuming my garments. 'I should not care if you did, Mr.
Heathcliff; she richly deserves it. I suppose that she wanted to get
another proof that the place was haunted, at my expense. Well, it
is--swarming with ghosts and goblins! You have reason in shutting it up,
I assure you. No one will thank you for a doze in such a den! '

'What do you mean? ' asked Heathcliff, 'and what are you doing? Lie down
and finish out the night, since you _are_ here; but, for heaven's sake!
don't repeat that horrid noise: nothing could excuse it, unless you were
having your throat cut! '

'If the little fiend had got in at the window, she probably would have
strangled me! ' I returned. 'I'm not going to endure the persecutions of
your hospitable ancestors again. Was not the Reverend Jabez Branderham
akin to you on the mother's side? And that minx, Catherine Linton, or
Earnshaw, or however she was called--she must have been a
changeling--wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the
earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal
transgressions, I've no doubt! '

Scarcely were these words uttered when I recollected the association of
Heathcliff's with Catherine's name in the book, which had completely
slipped from my memory, till thus awakened. I blushed at my
inconsideration: but, without showing further consciousness of the
offence, I hastened to add--'The truth is, sir, I passed the first part
of the night in--' Here I stopped afresh--I was about to say 'perusing
those old volumes,' then it would have revealed my knowledge of their
written, as well as their printed, contents; so, correcting myself, I
went on--'in spelling over the name scratched on that window-ledge. A
monotonous occupation, calculated to set me asleep, like counting, or--'

'What _can_ you mean by talking in this way to _me_! ' thundered
Heathcliff with savage vehemence. 'How--how _dare_ you, under my
roof? --God! he's mad to speak so! ' And he struck his forehead with rage.

I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue my explanation;
but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pity and proceeded with
my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation of 'Catherine
Linton' before, but reading it often over produced an impression which
personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control.
Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke;
finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by
his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an
excess of violent emotion. Not liking to show him that I had heard the
conflict, I continued my toilette rather noisily, looked at my watch, and
soliloquised on the length of the night: 'Not three o'clock yet! I could
have taken oath it had been six. Time stagnates here: we must surely
have retired to rest at eight! '

'Always at nine in winter, and rise at four,' said my host, suppressing a
groan: and, as I fancied, by the motion of his arm's shadow, dashing a
tear from his eyes. 'Mr. Lockwood,' he added, 'you may go into my room:
you'll only be in the way, coming down-stairs so early: and your childish
outcry has sent sleep to the devil for me. '

'And for me, too,' I replied. 'I'll walk in the yard till daylight, and
then I'll be off; and you need not dread a repetition of my intrusion.
I'm now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or
town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself. '

'Delightful company! ' muttered Heathcliff. 'Take the candle, and go
where you please. I shall join you directly. Keep out of the yard,
though, the dogs are unchained; and the house--Juno mounts sentinel
there, and--nay, you can only ramble about the steps and passages. But,
away with you! I'll come in two minutes! '

I obeyed, so far as to quit the chamber; when, ignorant where the narrow
lobbies led, I stood still, and was witness, involuntarily, to a piece of
superstition on the part of my landlord which belied, oddly, his apparent
sense. He got on to the bed, and wrenched open the lattice, bursting, as
he pulled at it, into an uncontrollable passion of tears. 'Come in! come
in! ' he sobbed. 'Cathy, do come. Oh, do--_once_ more! Oh! my heart's
darling! hear me _this_ time, Catherine, at last! ' The spectre showed a
spectre's ordinary caprice: it gave no sign of being; but the snow and
wind whirled wildly through, even reaching my station, and blowing out
the light.

There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving,
that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry
to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous
nightmare, since it produced that agony; though _why_ was beyond my
comprehension. I descended cautiously to the lower regions, and landed
in the back-kitchen, where a gleam of fire, raked compactly together,
enabled me to rekindle my candle. Nothing was stirring except a
brindled, grey cat, which crept from the ashes, and saluted me with a
querulous mew.

Two benches, shaped in sections of a circle, nearly enclosed the hearth;
on one of these I stretched myself, and Grimalkin mounted the other. We
were both of us nodding ere any one invaded our retreat, and then it was
Joseph, shuffling down a wooden ladder that vanished in the roof, through
a trap: the ascent to his garret, I suppose. He cast a sinister look at
the little flame which I had enticed to play between the ribs, swept the
cat from its elevation, and bestowing himself in the vacancy, commenced
the operation of stuffing a three-inch pipe with tobacco. My presence in
his sanctum was evidently esteemed a piece of impudence too shameful for
remark: he silently applied the tube to his lips, folded his arms, and
puffed away.
I let him enjoy the luxury unannoyed; and after sucking out
his last wreath, and heaving a profound sigh, he got up, and departed as
solemnly as he came.

A more elastic footstep entered next; and now I opened my mouth for a
'good-morning,' but closed it again, the salutation unachieved; for
Hareton Earnshaw was performing his orison _sotto voce_, in a series of
curses directed against every object he touched, while he rummaged a
corner for a spade or shovel to dig through the drifts. He glanced over
the back of the bench, dilating his nostrils, and thought as little of
exchanging civilities with me as with my companion the cat. I guessed,
by his preparations, that egress was allowed, and, leaving my hard couch,
made a movement to follow him. He noticed this, and thrust at an inner
door with the end of his spade, intimating by an inarticulate sound that
there was the place where I must go, if I changed my locality.

It opened into the house, where the females were already astir; Zillah
urging flakes of flame up the chimney with a colossal bellows; and Mrs.
Heathcliff, kneeling on the hearth, reading a book by the aid of the
blaze. She held her hand interposed between the furnace-heat and her
eyes, and seemed absorbed in her occupation; desisting from it only to
chide the servant for covering her with sparks, or to push away a dog,
now and then, that snoozled its nose overforwardly into her face. I was
surprised to see Heathcliff there also. He stood by the fire, his back
towards me, just finishing a stormy scene with poor Zillah; who ever and
anon interrupted her labour to pluck up the corner of her apron, and
heave an indignant groan.

'And you, you worthless--' he broke out as I entered, turning to his
daughter-in-law, and employing an epithet as harmless as duck, or sheep,
but generally represented by a dash--. 'There you are, at your idle
tricks again! The rest of them do earn their bread--you live on my
charity! Put your trash away, and find something to do. You shall pay
me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight--do you hear,
damnable jade? '

'I'll put my trash away, because you can make me if I refuse,' answered
the young lady, closing her book, and throwing it on a chair. 'But I'll
not do anything, though you should swear your tongue out, except what I
please! '

Heathcliff lifted his hand, and the speaker sprang to a safer distance,
obviously acquainted with its weight. Having no desire to be entertained
by a cat-and-dog combat, I stepped forward briskly, as if eager to
partake the warmth of the hearth, and innocent of any knowledge of the
interrupted dispute. Each had enough decorum to suspend further
hostilities: Heathcliff placed his fists, out of temptation, in his
pockets; Mrs. Heathcliff curled her lip, and walked to a seat far off,
where she kept her word by playing the part of a statue during the
remainder of my stay. That was not long. I declined joining their
breakfast, and, at the first gleam of dawn, took an opportunity of
escaping into the free air, now clear, and still, and cold as impalpable
ice.

My landlord halloed for me to stop ere I reached the bottom of the
garden, and offered to accompany me across the moor. It was well he did,
for the whole hill-back was one billowy, white ocean; the swells and
falls not indicating corresponding rises and depressions in the ground:
many pits, at least, were filled to a level; and entire ranges of mounds,
the refuse of the quarries, blotted from the chart which my yesterday's
walk left pictured in my mind. I had remarked on one side of the road,
at intervals of six or seven yards, a line of upright stones, continued
through the whole length of the barren: these were erected and daubed
with lime on purpose to serve as guides in the dark, and also when a
fall, like the present, confounded the deep swamps on either hand with
the firmer path: but, excepting a dirty dot pointing up here and there,
all traces of their existence had vanished: and my companion found it
necessary to warn me frequently to steer to the right or left, when I
imagined I was following, correctly, the windings of the road.

We exchanged little conversation, and he halted at the entrance of
Thrushcross Park, saying, I could make no error there. Our adieux were
limited to a hasty bow, and then I pushed forward, trusting to my own
resources; for the porter's lodge is untenanted as yet. The distance
from the gate to the grange is two miles; I believe I managed to make it
four, what with losing myself among the trees, and sinking up to the neck
in snow: a predicament which only those who have experienced it can
appreciate. At any rate, whatever were my wanderings, the clock chimed
twelve as I entered the house; and that gave exactly an hour for every
mile of the usual way from Wuthering Heights.

My human fixture and her satellites rushed to welcome me; exclaiming,
tumultuously, they had completely given me up: everybody conjectured that
I perished last night; and they were wondering how they must set about
the search for my remains. I bid them be quiet, now that they saw me
returned, and, benumbed to my very heart, I dragged up-stairs; whence,
after putting on dry clothes, and pacing to and fro thirty or forty
minutes, to restore the animal heat, I adjourned to my study, feeble as a
kitten: almost too much so to enjoy the cheerful fire and smoking coffee
which the servant had prepared for my refreshment.




CHAPTER IV


What vain weathercocks we are! I, who had determined to hold myself
independent of all social intercourse, and thanked my stars that, at
length, I had lighted on a spot where it was next to impracticable--I,
weak wretch, after maintaining till dusk a struggle with low spirits and
solitude, was finally compelled to strike my colours; and under pretence
of gaining information concerning the necessities of my establishment, I
desired Mrs. Dean, when she brought in supper, to sit down while I ate
it; hoping sincerely she would prove a regular gossip, and either rouse
me to animation or lull me to sleep by her talk.

'You have lived here a considerable time,' I commenced; 'did you not say
sixteen years? '

'Eighteen, sir: I came when the mistress was married, to wait on her;
after she died, the master retained me for his housekeeper. '

'Indeed. '

There ensued a pause. She was not a gossip, I feared; unless about her
own affairs, and those could hardly interest me. However, having studied
for an interval, with a fist on either knee, and a cloud of meditation
over her ruddy countenance, she ejaculated--'Ah, times are greatly
changed since then! '

'Yes,' I remarked, 'you've seen a good many alterations, I suppose? '

'I have: and troubles too,' she said.

'Oh, I'll turn the talk on my landlord's family! ' I thought to myself. 'A
good subject to start! And that pretty girl-widow, I should like to know
her history: whether she be a native of the country, or, as is more
probable, an exotic that the surly _indigenae_ will not recognise for
kin. ' With this intention I asked Mrs. Dean why Heathcliff let
Thrushcross Grange, and preferred living in a situation and residence so
much inferior. 'Is he not rich enough to keep the estate in good order? '
I inquired.

'Rich, sir! ' she returned. 'He has nobody knows what money, and every
year it increases. Yes, yes, he's rich enough to live in a finer house
than this: but he's very near--close-handed; and, if he had meant to flit
to Thrushcross Grange, as soon as he heard of a good tenant he could not
have borne to miss the chance of getting a few hundreds more. It is
strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world! '

'He had a son, it seems? '

'Yes, he had one--he is dead. '

'And that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is his widow? '

'Yes. '

'Where did she come from originally? '

'Why, sir, she is my late master's daughter: Catherine Linton was her
maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff would
remove here, and then we might have been together again. '

'What! Catherine Linton? ' I exclaimed, astonished. But a minute's
reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine. 'Then,' I
continued, 'my predecessor's name was Linton? '

'It was. '

'And who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr.
Heathcliff? Are they relations? '

'No; he is the late Mrs. Linton's nephew. '

'The young lady's cousin, then? '

'Yes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on the mother's, the other
on the father's side: Heathcliff married Mr. Linton's sister. '

'I see the house at Wuthering Heights has "Earnshaw" carved over the
front door. Are they an old family? '

'Very old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them, as our Miss Cathy is of
us--I mean, of the Lintons. Have you been to Wuthering Heights? I beg
pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how she is! '

'Mrs. Heathcliff? she looked very well, and very handsome; yet, I think,
not very happy. '

'Oh dear, I don't wonder! And how did you like the master? '

'A rough fellow, rather, Mrs. Dean. Is not that his character?

'Rough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone! The less you meddle with
him the better. '

'He must have had some ups and downs in life to make him such a churl. Do
you know anything of his history? '

'It's a cuckoo's, sir--I know all about it: except where he was born, and
who were his parents, and how he got his money at first. And Hareton has
been cast out like an unfledged dunnock! The unfortunate lad is the only
one in all this parish that does not guess how he has been cheated. '

'Well, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to tell me something of my
neighbours: I feel I shall not rest if I go to bed; so be good enough to
sit and chat an hour. '

'Oh, certainly, sir! I'll just fetch a little sewing, and then I'll sit
as long as you please. But you've caught cold: I saw you shivering, and
you must have some gruel to drive it out. '

The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer the fire; my head
felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover, I was excited, almost to a
pitch of foolishness, through my nerves and brain. This caused me to
feel, not uncomfortable, but rather fearful (as I am still) of serious
effects from the incidents of to-day and yesterday. She returned
presently, bringing a smoking basin and a basket of work; and, having
placed the former on the hob, drew in her seat, evidently pleased to find
me so companionable.

Before I came to live here, she commenced--waiting no farther invitation
to her story--I was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because my mother
had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton's father, and I got
used to playing with the children: I ran errands too, and helped to make
hay, and hung about the farm ready for anything that anybody would set me
to. One fine summer morning--it was the beginning of harvest, I
remember--Mr. Earnshaw, the old master, came down-stairs, dressed for a
journey; and, after he had told Joseph what was to be done during the
day, he turned to Hindley, and Cathy, and me--for I sat eating my
porridge with them--and he said, speaking to his son, 'Now, my bonny man,
I'm going to Liverpool to-day, what shall I bring you? You may choose
what you like: only let it be little, for I shall walk there and back:
sixty miles each way, that is a long spell! ' Hindley named a fiddle, and
then he asked Miss Cathy; she was hardly six years old, but she could
ride any horse in the stable, and she chose a whip. He did not forget
me; for he had a kind heart, though he was rather severe sometimes. He
promised to bring me a pocketful of apples and pears, and then he kissed
his children, said good-bye, and set off.

It seemed a long while to us all--the three days of his absence--and
often did little Cathy ask when he would be home. Mrs. Earnshaw expected
him by supper-time on the third evening, and she put the meal off hour
after hour; there were no signs of his coming, however, and at last the
children got tired of running down to the gate to look. Then it grew
dark; she would have had them to bed, but they begged sadly to be allowed
to stay up; and, just about eleven o'clock, the door-latch was raised
quietly, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a chair,
laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly
killed--he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms.

'And at the end of it to be flighted to death! ' he said, opening his
great-coat, which he held bundled up in his arms. 'See here, wife! I
was never so beaten with anything in my life: but you must e'en take it
as a gift of God; though it's as dark almost as if it came from the
devil. '

We crowded round, and over Miss Cathy's head I had a peep at a dirty,
ragged, black-haired child; big enough both to walk and talk: indeed, its
face looked older than Catherine's; yet when it was set on its feet, it
only stared round, and repeated over and over again some gibberish that
nobody could understand. I was frightened, and Mrs. Earnshaw was ready
to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how he could fashion to
bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own bairns to
feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and whether he were mad?
The master tried to explain the matter; but he was really half dead with
fatigue, and all that I could make out, amongst her scolding, was a tale
of his seeing it starving, and houseless, and as good as dumb, in the
streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired for its owner.
Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and his money and time
being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with him at
once, than run into vain expenses there: because he was determined he
would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my
mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and
give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children.

Hindley and Cathy contented themselves with looking and listening till
peace was restored: then, both began searching their father's pockets
for the presents he had promised them. The former was a boy of fourteen,
but when he drew out what had been a fiddle, crushed to morsels in the
great-coat, he blubbered aloud; and Cathy, when she learned the master
had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by
grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains
a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They
entirely refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and
I had no more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it
might be gone on the morrow. By chance, or else attracted by hearing his
voice, it crept to Mr. Earnshaw's door, and there he found it on
quitting his chamber. Inquiries were made as to how it got there; I was
obliged to confess, and in recompense for my cowardice and inhumanity
was sent out of the house.

This was Heathcliff's first introduction to the family. On coming back a
few days afterwards (for I did not consider my banishment perpetual), I
found they had christened him 'Heathcliff': it was the name of a son who
died in childhood, and it has served him ever since, both for Christian
and surname. Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley hated
him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went on with
him shamefully: for I wasn't reasonable enough to feel my injustice, and
the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged.

He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment:
he would stand Hindley's blows without winking or shedding a tear, and my
pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his eyes, as if he
had hurt himself by accident, and nobody was to blame. This endurance
made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting the
poor fatherless child, as he called him. He took to Heathcliff
strangely, believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious
little, and generally the truth), and petting him up far above Cathy, who
was too mischievous and wayward for a favourite.

So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house; and at
Mrs. Earnshaw's death, which happened in less than two years after, the
young master had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than
a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent's affections and his
privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries. I
sympathised a while; but when the children fell ill of the measles, and I
had to tend them, and take on me the cares of a woman at once, I changed
my idea. Heathcliff was dangerously sick; and while he lay at the worst
he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he felt I did a good
deal for him, and he hadn't wit to guess that I was compelled to do it.
However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse
watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me to be
less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as
uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him give
little trouble.

He got through, and the doctor affirmed it was in a great measure owing
to me, and praised me for my care. I was vain of his commendations, and
softened towards the being by whose means I earned them, and thus Hindley
lost his last ally: still I couldn't dote on Heathcliff, and I wondered
often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen boy; who never,
to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of gratitude. He
was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible; though
knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he had only
to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes. As an
instance, I remember Mr. Earnshaw once bought a couple of colts at the
parish fair, and gave the lads each one. Heathcliff took the handsomest,
but it soon fell lame, and when he discovered it, he said to Hindley--

'You must exchange horses with me: I don't like mine; and if you won't I
shall tell your father of the three thrashings you've given me this week,
and show him my arm, which is black to the shoulder. ' Hindley put out
his tongue, and cuffed him over the ears. 'You'd better do it at once,'
he persisted, escaping to the porch (they were in the stable): 'you will
have to: and if I speak of these blows, you'll get them again with
interest. ' 'Off, dog! ' cried Hindley, threatening him with an iron
weight used for weighing potatoes and hay. 'Throw it,' he replied,
standing still, 'and then I'll tell how you boasted that you would turn
me out of doors as soon as he died, and see whether he will not turn you
out directly. ' Hindley threw it, hitting him on the breast, and down he
fell, but staggered up immediately, breathless and white; and, had not I
prevented it, he would have gone just so to the master, and got full
revenge by letting his condition plead for him, intimating who had caused
it. 'Take my colt, Gipsy, then! ' said young Earnshaw. 'And I pray that
he may break your neck: take him, and be damned, you beggarly interloper!
and wheedle my father out of all he has: only afterwards show him what
you are, imp of Satan. --And take that, I hope he'll kick out your
brains! '

Heathcliff had gone to loose the beast, and shift it to his own stall; he
was passing behind it, when Hindley finished his speech by knocking him
under its feet, and without stopping to examine whether his hopes were
fulfilled, ran away as fast as he could. I was surprised to witness how
coolly the child gathered himself up, and went on with his intention;
exchanging saddles and all, and then sitting down on a bundle of hay to
overcome the qualm which the violent blow occasioned, before he entered
the house. I persuaded him easily to let me lay the blame of his bruises
on the horse: he minded little what tale was told since he had what he
wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, of such stirs as these, that I
really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as you will
hear.




CHAPTER V


In the course of time Mr. Earnshaw began to fail. He had been active and
healthy, yet his strength left him suddenly; and when he was confined to
the chimney-corner he grew grievously irritable. A nothing vexed him;
and suspected slights of his authority nearly threw him into fits. This
was especially to be remarked if any one attempted to impose upon, or
domineer over, his favourite: he was painfully jealous lest a word
should be spoken amiss to him; seeming to have got into his head the
notion that, because he liked Heathcliff, all hated, and longed to do
him an ill-turn. It was a disadvantage to the lad; for the kinder among
us did not wish to fret the master, so we humoured his partiality; and
that humouring was rich nourishment to the child's pride and black
tempers. Still it became in a manner necessary; twice, or thrice,
Hindley's manifestation of scorn, while his father was near, roused the
old man to a fury: he seized his stick to strike him, and shook with
rage that he could not do it.

At last, our curate (we had a curate then who made the living answer by
teaching the little Lintons and Earnshaws, and farming his bit of land
himself) advised that the young man should be sent to college; and Mr.
Earnshaw agreed, though with a heavy spirit, for he said--'Hindley was
nought, and would never thrive as where he wandered. '

I hoped heartily we should have peace now. It hurt me to think the
master should be made uncomfortable by his own good deed. I fancied the
discontent of age and disease arose from his family disagreements; as he
would have it that it did: really, you know, sir, it was in his sinking
frame. We might have got on tolerably, notwithstanding, but for two
people--Miss Cathy, and Joseph, the servant: you saw him, I daresay, up
yonder. He was, and is yet most likely, the wearisomest self-righteous
Pharisee that ever ransacked a Bible to rake the promises to himself and
fling the curses to his neighbours. By his knack of sermonising and
pious discoursing, he contrived to make a great impression on Mr.
Earnshaw; and the more feeble the master became, the more influence he
gained. He was relentless in worrying him about his soul's concerns, and
about ruling his children rigidly. He encouraged him to regard Hindley
as a reprobate; and, night after night, he regularly grumbled out a long
string of tales against Heathcliff and Catherine: always minding to
flatter Earnshaw's weakness by heaping the heaviest blame on the latter.

Certainly she had ways with her such as I never saw a child take up
before; and she put all of us past our patience fifty times and oftener
in a day: from the hour she came down-stairs till the hour she went to
bed, we had not a minute's security that she wouldn't be in mischief. Her
spirits were always at high-water mark, her tongue always going--singing,
laughing, and plaguing everybody who would not do the same. A wild,
wicked slip she was--but she had the bonniest eye, the sweetest smile,
and lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe she meant no
harm; for when once she made you cry in good earnest, it seldom happened
that she would not keep you company, and oblige you to be quiet that you
might comfort her. She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest
punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him: yet
she got chided more than any of us on his account. In play, she liked
exceedingly to act the little mistress; using her hands freely, and
commanding her companions: she did so to me, but I would not bear
slapping and ordering; and so I let her know.

Now, Mr. Earnshaw did not understand jokes from his children: he had
always been strict and grave with them; and Catherine, on her part, had
no idea why her father should be crosser and less patient in his ailing
condition than he was in his prime. His peevish reproofs wakened in her
a naughty delight to provoke him: she was never so happy as when we were
all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold, saucy look,
and her ready words; turning Joseph's religious curses into ridicule,
baiting me, and doing just what her father hated most--showing how her
pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over
Heathcliff than his kindness: how the boy would do _her_ bidding in
anything, and _his_ only when it suited his own inclination. After
behaving as badly as possible all day, she sometimes came fondling to
make it up at night.