CHAPTER XI Sometimes, while meditating on these things in solitude, I've got open a sudden terror and put on me bonnet to see how all was at the farm. I've persuaded me conscience that it was a duty to warn him how people talked regarding his ways, and then I've recollected his confirmed bad habits, and hopeless of benefitting him have flinched from me entering the dismal house, doubting if I could bear to be taken at my word. One time I passed the old gate, going out of my way, on a journey to Gimton. It was about the period that my narrative has reached, a bright frosty afternoon, the ground bare, and the road hard and dry. I came to a stone where the highway branches off onto the moor at your left hand, a rough sandpillar with the letters WH cut on its north side, on the east G, and on the south west TG. It serves as a guidepost to the Grange, the Eights, and Village. The sun shone yellow on its grey head, reminding me of summer, and I cannot say why, but all at once a gush of child sensations flowed into my heart.  I gazed long at the weather-worn block, and stooped down, perceived all near the bottom still full of snail shells, and pebbles, where we were fond of storing there with more perishable things, and as fresh as reality it appeared that I beheld my early playmate, seated on the withered turf, his dark square-ed bent forward, and his little hand scooping out the earth with a piece of slate. Poor Indley, I exclaimed involuntarily. I started. My bodily eye was cheated into a momentary belief that the child lifted its face and stared straight into mine. It vanished in a twinkling, but immediately I felt an irresistible yearning to be at the Eights. Superstition urged me to comply with this impulse, supposing he should be dead, I thought, or should die soon, supposing it were a sign of death. The nearer I got to the house the more agitated I grew, and on catching sight of it I trembled in every limb. The apparition had outstripped me. It stood looking through the gate. That was my first idea on observing an alflocked, brown-eyed boy sitting as ruddy countenance against the bars. Further reflection suggested this must be Ayrton, my Ayrton, not altered greatly since I left him ten months since.  Ayrton, it's Nelly. Nelly, thy nurse! He retreated out of arm's length, and picked up a large flint. I'm come to see thy father, Ayrton, I added, guessing from the action that Nelly, if she lived in his memory at all, was not recognized as one with me. He raised his missile to earl it. I commenced a soothing speech, but could not stay as sound. The stone struck my bonnet, and then ensued from the stammering lips of the little fellow a string of curses which, whether he had comprehended them or not, would livid with praxis emphasis, and distorted his baby features into a shocking expression of malignity. You may be certain this grieved more than angered me. Fit to cry I took an orange from my pocket, and offered to propitiate him. He hesitated, then snatched it from my old, as if he fancied I only intended to tempt and disappoint him. I shored him another, keeping it out of his reach. "'Who has taught you these fine words, my Ben?' I inquired. The curate. "'Damn the curate, and thee. Give me that,' he replied. "'Tell us where you got your lessons, and you shall have it,' said I. "'Who's your master?' "'Devil Daddy,' was his answer. "'And what do you learn from Daddy?' I continued. He jumped at the fruit. I raised the ire. "'What does he teach you?' I asked. "'Not,' said he. "'But to keep out his gait. "'Daddy cannot bide me, because I swear at him.' "'Ah! And the devil teaches you to swear at Daddy,' I observed. "'Ah, nay,' he drawled. "'Ooh, then, Eathcliff!' I asked if he liked Mr. Eathcliff. "'Ah!' he answered again. Desiring to have his reasons for liking him, I could only gather the sentences. "'And no, he pays Dad back what he needs to me. "'He curses Daddy, he curses me. "'He says them and do as I will.' "'And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then,' I pursued. "'No, I was told the curate should have his teeth dashed out, "'his throat, if he stepped out the threshold. "'Eathcliff had promised that.' "'I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father "'that a woman called Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him, "'by the garden gate. "'He went up the walk and entered the house. "'But instead of indley, Eathcliff appeared on the doorstones, "'and I turned directly and ran down the road as hard as I ever "'could race, making no halt till I gained the guidepost, "'and feeling as scared as if I had raised a goblin. "'This is not much connected with Isabella's affair, "'except that it urged me to resolve further on mounting "'vigilant guard and do my utmost to check the spread "'of such bad influences at the Grange, "'even though I should wake a domestic storm "'by thwarting Mrs. Linton's pleasure. "'The next time Eathcliff came, "'my young lady chanced to be feeding some pigeons in the cart. "'She had never spoken a word to a sister-in-law for three days, "'but she had likewise dropped a fretful complaining, "'and we found it a great comfort. "'Eathcliff had not the habit of bestowing "'a single unnecessary civility on Mrs. Linton, I knew. "'Now, as soon as he beeld her, "'his first precaution was to take a sweeping survey "'of the house-front. "'I was standing by the kitchen window, but I drew out a sight. "'He then stepped across the pavement to her "'and said something. "'She seemed embarrassed and desirous of getting away. "'To prevent it, he laid his hand on her arm. "'She averted her face. "'He apparently put some question which she had no mind to answer. "'There was another rapid glance at the house, "'and supposing himself unseen, "'the scoundrel had the impudence to embrace her. "'Judas, traitor!' I ejaculated. "'You are an hypocrite, too, aren't you, a deliberate deceiver.' "'Who is Nelly?' said Catherine's voice at my elbow. "'I'd been over-intent on watching the pair outside "'to mark her entrance.' "'Your worthless friend,' I answered warmly, "'the sneaking rascal yonder. "'Ah, he has caught a glimpse of us. "'He is coming in. "'I wonder will he have the art to find a plausible excuse "'for making love to miss when he told you he aided her?' "'Mrs. Linton saw Isabella tear herself free "'and run into the garden, "'and a minute after, Eathcliffe opened the door. "'I couldn't withhold some loose to my indignation, "'but Catherine angrily insisted on silence "'and threatened to odd me out to the kitchen "'if I dared to be so presumptuous "'as to put in my insolent tongue.' "'To hear you, people might think you were the mistress,' "'she cried. "'You aren't setting down in your right place. "'Eathcliffe, what are you about raising the stir? "'I said you must let Isabella alone. "'I beg you well, unless you're tired of being received here "'and wish Linton to draw the bolts against you.' "'God forbid that he should try,' answered the black villain. "'I detested him just then. "'God keep him meek and patient. "'Every day I grow madder after sending him to heaven.' "'Hush,' said Catherine, shutting the inner door. "'Don't vex me. "'Why have you disregarded my request? "'Did she come across you on purpose?' "'What is it to you?' he growled. "'I have a right to kiss her if she chooses "'and you have no right to reject. "'I'm not your husband. "'You needn't be jealous of me.' "'I'm not jealous of you,' replied the mistress. "'I'm jealous for you. "'Clear your face. "'You shall scowl at me. "'If you like Isabella, you shall marry her. "'But do you like her? "'Tell the truth, Heathcliffe. "'There, you won't answer. "'I'm certain you don't.' "'And would Mr. Linton approve of his sister marrying that man?' I inquired. "'Mr. Linton should approve,' returned my lady decisively. "'He might spare himself the trouble,' said Heathcliffe. "'I could do as well without his approbation. "'And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind to speak a few words now while we are at it. "'I want you to be aware that I know you have treated me infernally. "'Infernally? "'Do you hear?   "'And if you fancy I'll suffer unrevenged, I'll convince you of the contrary in a very little while. "'Mean time, thank you for telling your sister-in-law's secret. "'I swear I'll make the most of it. "'And stand you aside.' "'What new phase of his character is this?' exclaimed Mrs. Linton in amazement. "'I've treated you infernally, and you'll take your revenge. How will you take it, ungrateful brute? How have I treated you infernally?' "'I seek no revenge on you,' replied Heathcliffe, less vehemently. "'That's not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves, and they don't turn against him. They crush those beneath them. You are welcome to torture me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able. Having levelled my palace, don't direct a hovel, and complacently admire your own charity in giving me that for a home.  "'Oh! The evil is that I am not jealous, is it?' cried Catherine. "'Well, I won't repeat my offer of a wife. It is as bad as offering Satan a lost soul.  You prove it. Edgar is restored from the ill-temporary gave way to at your coming. I begin to be secure and tranquil, and you, restless anos at peace, appear resolved on exciting a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you please, Heathcliffe, and deceit his sister, you'll hit on exactly the most efficient method of revenging yourself on me.' The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable. She could neither lay nor control it. She stood on the aft with folded arms, brooding on his evil thoughts, and in this position I left them to seek the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long. "'Ellen,' said he, when I entered, "'have you seen your mistress?' "'Yes, she's in the kitchen, sir,' I answered. She sadly put out by Mr. Heathcliffe's behaviour, and indeed I do think it's time to arrange his visits on another footing. His arm had been too soft, and now it's come to this.' And I related the scene in the court, and as near as I dared the all-subsequent dispute. I fancied it could not be very prejudicial to Mrs. Linton, unless she made it so afterwards, by assuming the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had difficulty in adhering me to the clothes. His first words revealed that he'd not clear his wife of blame. "'This is insufferable,' he exclaimed. "'It is disgraceful that she should own him for a friend, and force his company on me. Call me two men out of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue with the low ruffian. I've humoured her enough.' He descended, and bidding the servant's way to the passage went, followed by a me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommended their angry discussion. Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed vigor. Heathcliffe had moved to the window, along his head, somewhat cowed by a violent ranting, apparently. He saw the master first, and made an hasty motion that she should be silent, and she obeyed abruptly on discovering the reason of his intimation. "'How is this?' said Linton, addressing her. "'What notion of propriety must you have to remain here, after the language which has been held to you by that black-ard? I suppose, because it is his ordinary talk, you think nothing of it, and you are habituated to his baseness, and perhaps imagine I can get used to it, too.' "'Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?' asked the mistress, and at all, and particularly calculated to provoke her husband, implying both carelessness and contempt of his irritation. Heathcliffe, who would raise his eyes at the farmer's speech, gave a sneering laugh at the latter. On purpose it seemed to draw Mr. Linton's attention to him. He succeeded, but Edgar did not mean to entertain him with any eye-flights of passion. "'I've been so far for bearing with you, sir,' he said quietly. "'Not that I was ignorant of your miserable, degraded character, but I felt you were only partly responsible for that, and Catherine wishing to keep up your acquaintance, I acquiesced foolishly.  For that cause, and to prevent the worst consequences, I shall deny you, hereafter, admission into this house, and give notice now that I require your instant departure. Three minutes delay will render it involuntary and ignominious.' Liff measured the ight and breadth of the speaker with an eye full of derision.  "'It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I am mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down.' My master glanced towards the passage, and signed me to fetch the men. He had no intention of hazarding a personal encounter. I obeyed the hint, but Mrs. Linton, suspecting something, followed, and when I attempted to call them, she pulled me back, slamming the door to and locked it. "'Fair means,' said she, in answer to her husband's look of angry surprise. "'If you have not the courage to attack him, make an apology or allow yourself to be beaten. It will correct you of feigning more valour than you possess. No, I'll swallow the key before you shall get it. I'm delightfully rewarded for my kindness to each. After constant indulgence of one's weak nature and the other's bad one, I earn for thanks two samples of blinding gratitude, stupid to absurdity.  It did not need the medium of a flogging to produce that effect on the master. He tried to rest the key from Catherine's grasp, and for safety she flung it into the oddest part of the fire, whereupon Mr. Edgar, who was taken with a nervous trembling, and his countenance, grew deadly pale. For his life he could not avert that excess of emotion. Mingled anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He lent on the back of a chair, and covered his face. Oh, heavens, in old days this would win you knighthood, exclaimed Mrs. Linton. We are vanquished, we are vanquished. Heathcliff would as soon lift a finger at you, as the king would march his army against a colony of mice. Cheer up, you shan't be hurt. Your type is not a lamb, it's a sucking leveret. I wish you the joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy, said her friend. I compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing you preferred to me. I would not strike him with my fist, that I'd kick him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction. Is he weeping, or is he going to faint for fear? The fellow approached and gave the chair on which Linton rested a push. It better have kept his distance. My master quickly sprang erect, and struck him full on the throat, a blow that would have leveled a slighter man. It took his breath for a minute, and while he choked, Mr. Linton walked out by the back door into the yard, and from thence to the front entrance. There! You've done with coming here, cried Catherine.  He'll return with a brace of pistols and half a dozen assistance. If he did overhear us, of course he'd never forgive you. You've played me an ill-turn, Heathcliff. But go! Make haste! I'd rather see Edgar at bay than you.  He thundered.  I'll crush his ribs in like a rotten hazelnut before I cross the threshold. If I don't floor him now, I shall murder him some time, so as you value his existence, let me get at him! He is not coming, I interposed, framing a bit of a lie. There's the coachman and the two gardeners. You'll surely not want to be a thrust into the road by them. Each has a bludgeon, a master will very likely be watching from the parlor windows to see that they fulfil his orders. The gardeners and the coachman were there. But Linton was not with them. They had already entered the court. Heathcliff, on the second thought, resolved to avoid a struggle against three underlings. He seized the poker, smashed the lock from the innador, and made his escape as they tramped in. Mrs. Linton, who was very much excited, bade me accompany her upstairs. She did not know my share in contributing to the disturbance, and I was anxious to keep her in ignorance. I'm nearly distracted, Nelly, she exclaimed, throwing herself on the sofa. A thousand smith's hammers are beating in my head. Tell Isabella to shun me. This uproar is owing to her. I should she or anyone else aggravate my anger at presence. I shall get wild. And Nelly, say to Edgar, if you see him again tonight, that I'm in danger of being seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has startled and distressed me shockingly. I want to frighten him. Since he might come and bring a string of abuse or complainings. I'm certain I should recriminate, and God knows where we should end. Will you do so, my good Nelly? You were aware that I am no way blamable in this matter. What possessed him to turn listener? Heathcliff's talk was outrageous after you left us, but I could soon have diverted him from Isabella, and the rest meant nothing. Now all is dashed wrong by the fools craving to hear evil of self that haunts some people like a demon. Had Edgar never gathered our conversation, he would never have been the worst for it. Really, when he opened on me in that unreasonable tone of displeasure after I'd scolded Heathcliff till I was hoarse for him, I did not care hardly what they did to each other, especially as I felt that, however the scene closed, we should all be driven asunder for nobody knows how long. Well, if I cannot keep Heathcliff for my friend, if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I'll try to break their hearts by breaking my own. That will be a prompt way of finishing all, when I am pushed to extremity. But it's a deed to be reserved for a forlorn hope. I'd not take Linton by surprise with it. To this point he has been discreet in dreading to provoke me. You must represent the peril of quitting that policy, and remind him of my passionate temper, verging when kindled on frenzy. I wish you could dismiss that apathy out of that countenance, and look rather more anxious about me. This delidity with which I received these instructions was no doubt rather exasperating, for they were delivered in perfect sincerity, but I believed a person who could plan the turning of her fits of passion to account beforehand might, by exerting her will, manage to control herself tolerably even while under their influence, and I did not wish to frighten her husband, as she said, and multiply his annoyances for the purpose of serving her selfishness. Therefore I said nothing when I met the master coming towards the parlour, but I took the liberty of turning back to listen, whether they would resume their quarrel together. He began to speak first. Remain where you are, Catherine, he said, without any anger in his voice, but with much sorrowful despondency. I shall not stay. I have neither come to wrangle nor be reconciled. But I wish just to learn whether, after this evening's events, you intend to continue your intimacy with, oh, for mercy's sake interrupt to the mistress, stamping her foot, for mercy's sake, let us hear no more of it now. Your cold blood cannot be worked into a fever, your veins are full of ice-water, but mine are boiling, and the sight of such chillness makes them dance. To get rid of me, answer my question, persevered Mr. Linton. You must answer it, and that violence does not alarm me. I have found that you can be as stoical as anyone when you please. Will you give up Heathcliff hereafter, or will you give up me? It is impossible for you to be my friend and his at the same time, and I absolutely require to know which you choose. I require to be let alone, exclaimed Catherine furiously. I demand it. Don't you see I can scarcely stand? Edgar, you leave me! She rang the bell till it broke with a twang. I entered leisurely. It was enough to try the temper of a saint, such senseless wicked rages. There she lay, dashing her head against the arm of the sofa, and grinding her teeth, so you might fancy she would crash them to splinters. Mr. Linton stood looking at her in sudden compunction and fear. He told me to fetch some water. She had no breath for speaking. I brought a glassful, and as she would not drink, I sprinkled it on her face. In a few seconds she stretched herself out stiff, and turned up her eyes, while her cheeks, a once blanched and livid, assumed the aspect of death. Linton looked terrified. There is nothing in the world the matter, I whispered. I did not want him to yield, though I could not help being afraid in my art. She has blood on her lips, he said, shuddering. Never mind, I answered tartly, and I told him how she had resolved, previous to his coming, on exhibiting a fit of frenzy. I unconsciously gave the account aloud, and she erred me, but she started up, her hair flying all over her shoulders, her eyes flashing, the muscles of her neck and arms standing out preternaturally. I made up my mind for broken bones, at least, but she only glared about her for an instant, and then rushed from the room. The master directed me to follow. I did to her chamber-door. She hindered me from going further by securing it against me. As she never offered to descend to breakfast next morning, I went to ask whether she would have some carried up. No, she replied, peremptorily. The same question was repeated at dinner and tea, and again on the morrow after, and received the same answer. Mr. Linton, on his part, spent his time in the library, and did not inquire concerning his wife's occupations. Isabella and he had an hour's interview, during which he tried to elicit from her some sentiment of proper aura for Eathcliffe's advances. But he could make nothing of her evasive replies, and was obliged to close the examination unsatisfactorily, adding, however, a solemn warning that if she were so insane as to encourage that worthless suitor, it would dissolve all bonds of relationship between herself and him. CHAPTER XII OF WATHERING HIGHTS This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. CHAPTER XII While Miss Linton moped about the park and garden, always silent and almost always in tears, and her brother shut himself up among books that he never opened, wearing a guest, with a continual vague expectation that Catherine, repenting her conduct, would come of her own accord to ask pardon and seek her reconciliation, and she fasted pertinaciously, under the idea probably that at every meal Edgar was ready to choke for her absence, and pride alone held him from coming to cast himself at her feet. I went about my household duties, convinced that the Grange had but one sensible soul in its walls, and that lodged in my body. I wasted no condolences on Miss, nor any expostulations on my mistress, nor did I pay much attention to the size of my master, who yearned to hear his lady's name, since he might not hear a voice. I determined they should come about as they pleased for me, and though it was a tarsimily slow process, I began to rejoice at length in a faint dawn of its progress, as I thought at first. Mrs. Linton, on the third day, unbarred her door, and having finished the water in a pitcher and decanter, desired a renewed supply and a basin of gruel, for she believed she was dying. That I sent down as a speech meant for Edgar's ears, I believed no such thing, so I kept it to myself and brought her some tea and dry toast. She ate and drank eagerly, and sank back on a pillow again, clenching her hands and groaning, "'Oh, I will die,' she exclaimed, "'since no one cares anything about me. I wish I had not taken that.' Then a good while after I heard a murmur, "'No, I'll not die. He'll be glad. He does not love me at all. He would never miss me.' "'Did you want anything, ma'am?' I inquired, still preserving my external composure, in spite of her ghastly countenance and strange exaggerated manner. "'What is that apathetic being doing?' she demanded, pushing the thick-and-tangled locks from her wasted face. Has he fallen into a lethargy, or is he dead?' "'Neither,' replied I. "'If you mean Mr. Linton, he's tolerably well, I think, though his studies occupy him rather more than they ought. He's continually among his books, since he has no other society.' I should not have spoken so if I had known a true condition, but I could not get rid of the notion that she acted a part of her disorder. "'Among his books,' she cried, confounded, "'and I dying! I am the brink of the grave! My God, does he know how I'm altered?' continued she, staring at a reflection in a mirror hanging against the opposite wall. "'Is that Catherine Linton?' He imagines me in a pet, in play, perhaps. Cannot you inform him that it is frightful earnest? Nelly, if it be not too late, as soon as I learn how he feels, I'll choose between these two, either to starve at once, that would be no punishment unless he had a heart, or to recover and leave the country. Are you speaking the truth about him now? Take care. Is he actually so utterly indifferent for my life?' "'Why, Mom?' I answered.  "'Besuade him. Speak of your own mind.  These three awful nights I've never closed my lids. I've been tormented. I've been haunted nearly. But I begin to fancy you don't like me. How strange! I thought, though everybody hated and despised each other, they could not avoid loving me, and I've all turned to enemies in a few hours. They have. I'm positive. The people have.' "'How dreary to meet death surrounded by their cold faces!' Isabella terrified and repelled, afraid to enter the room. It would be so dreadful to watch Catherine go, and Edgars standing solemnly by to see it over, then offering prayers of thanks to God for restoring peace in his house, and going back to his books. What in the name of all that feels has he to do with books when I am dying?' She could not bear the notion which I had put into her head of Mr. Linton's philosophical resignation. Tossing about, she increased a feverish bewilderment to madness, and told a pillow with her teeth. Then raising herself up all burning, desired that I would open the window. We were in the middle of winter. The wind blew strong from the northeast, and I objected. Both the expressions flitting over her face and the changes of her moods began to alarm me terribly, and brought to my recollection a former illness and the doctor's injunction that she should not be crossed. A minute previously she was violent. Now supported on one arm, and not noticing my refusal to obey her, she seemed to find childish diversion in pulling the feathers from the rents she had just made, and ranging them on the sheets according to their different species, her mind had strayed to other associations. "'That's a turkeys,' she murmured to herself. "'And this is a wild ducks, and this is a pigeons.' Ah, they put pigeons-fellows in the pillows. No wonder I couldn't die. Let me take care to throw it on the floor when I lie down. And here is a moor-cox, and this—oh, I should know it among a thousand. It's a lap-winds.' Bonnie-bird, wheeling over our heads in the middle of the moor. It wanted to get to its nest, for the clouds had touched the swells, and it felt rain coming. This feather was picked up from the heath. The bird was not shot. We'd saw its nest in the winter full of little skeletons. Heathcliff set a trap over it, and the old ones dared not come. I made him promise that he'd never shoot a lap-wing after that, and he didn't. Yes, here are more. Did he shoot my lap-wings, Nelly? Are they red any of them? Let me look. Give over with that baby work, I interrupted, dragging the pillow away, and turning the oils towards the mattress, for she was removing its contents by hand-falls.  There's a mess. The downers fly about like snow. I went here and there, collecting it. I see in you, Nelly—she continued dreamily—an aged woman. You have grey hair and bent shoulders. His bed is the fairy cave under Peniston crags, and you are gathering elf-bolts to hurt our heifers, pretending while I am near that they are only locks of wool. That's what you'll come to fifty years hence. I know you are not so now. I'm not wondering. You're mistaken, or else I should believe you really were that withered hag, and I should think I was under Peniston crags, and I'm conscious at night, and there are two candles on the table making the black press shine like jet. The black press? Where is that? I asked. You're talking in your sleep. It's against the wall, as it always is, she replied. It does appear odd. I see a face in it. There's no press in the room, and never was, said I, resuming my seat, and looping up the curtain that I might watch her. Don't you see that face? She inquired, gazing earnestly at the mirror, and say what I could. I was incapable of making her comprehend it to be her own, so I rose and covered it with a shawl. It's behind her still, she pursued anxiously, and it stirred. Who is it? I hope it will not come out when you are gone. Oh, Nelly, the room is haunted. I'm afraid of being alone. I took her hand in mine, and bid her be composed, for a succession of shutters convulsed her frame, and she would keep straining her gaze towards the glass. There's nobody here, I insisted. It was yourself, Mrs. Lynton. We knew it a while since. My self, she gasped, and the clock is striking twelve. It's true, then. That's dreadful. Her fingers clutched the clothes and gathered them over her eyes. I attempted to steal to the door with an intention of calling her husband, but I was summoned back by a piercing shriek. The shawl had dropped from the frame. Why, what is the matter, cried I? Who is coward now? Wake up! That is the glass, the mirror, Mrs. Lynton, and you see yourself in it, and there I am, too, by your side. Trembling and bewildered, she yelled me fast, but the aura gradually passed from her countenance. Its paleness gave place to a glow of shame. Oh, dear! I thought I was at home, she sighed. I thought I was lying in my chamber at Wuthering Heights.  Don't say anything, but stay with me. I dread sleeping my dreams, but pull me now. I sound sleep would do you good, ma'am, I answered, and I hope this suffering will prevent you trying starving again. Oh, if I were but in my own bed in the old house, she went on bitterly, ringing her hands, and that wind sounding in the furs by the lattice. Do let me feel it. It comes straight down the moor. Do let me have one breath. To pacify her, I held the casement to jar a few seconds. A cold blast rushed through. I closed it and returned to me post.  Exhaustion of body had entirely subdued her spirit. Our fiery Catherine was no better than a wailing child. How long is it since I shot myself in here? She asked, suddenly reviving. It was Monday evening, I replied, and this is Thursday night, or rather Friday morning at present. What, of the same week, she exclaimed, only that brief time? No one had to live on nothing but cold water and ill temper, observed I. Well, it seems a weary number of hours, she muttered doubtfully. It must be more. I remember being in the parlour after they had quarrelled, and Edgar being cruelly provoking, and me running into this room desperate. As soon as I had barred the door, utter blackness overwhelmed me, and I fell on the floor. I couldn't explain to Edgar how certain I felt of having a fit or going raging mad if he persisted in teasing me. I had no command of tongue or brain, and he did not guess my agony, perhaps. It barely left me sense to try to escape from him in his voice. Before I recovered sufficiently to see and hear, they began to be dawn, and nearly I'll tell you what I thought, and what has kept recurring and recurring till I feared for my reason. I thought as I lay there, with my head against that table-leg, and my eyes dimly discerning the grey square of the window, that I was enclosed in the oak-paneled bed at home, and my heart ached with some great grief which, just waking, I could not recollect. I pondered and worried myself to discover what it could be, and most strangely the whole last seven years of my life grew a blank. I did not recall that they had been at all. I was a child, my father was just buried, and my misery arose from the separation that Hindley had ordered between me and Heathcliff. I was laid alone for the first time, and rousing from a dismal dose after a night of weeping, I lifted my hands to push the panels aside, it struck the tabletop. I swept it along the carpet, and then memory burst in, and my late anguish was swallowed in a paroxysm of despair. I cannot say why I felt so wildly wretched. It must have been temporary derangement, for there is scarcely cause. But supposing at twelve years old I had been wrenched from the heights, and every early association, and all and all as Heathcliff was at that time, I had been converted as a stroke into Mrs. Linton, the lady of Thrushcross Grange, and the wife of a stranger, and exile, and outcast, thenceforth from what had been my world. You may fancy a glimpse of the abyss where I groveled. Shake your head as you will, Nellie, you have helped to unsettle me. You should have spoken to Edgar, indeed you should, and compelled him to leave me quiet. Oh, I'm burning, I wish I were out of doors, I wish I were a girl again, half savage, and hardy, and free, and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them. Why am I so changed? Why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words? I'm sure I should be myself, or I want some of the heather on those hills. Open the window again.  Because I won't give you a death of cold, I answered. You won't give me a chance of life, you mean," she said sullenly. However, I'm not helpless yet. I'll open it myself, and sliding from the bed before I could endure her, she crossed the room, walking very uncertainly, threw it back, and bent out, careless of the frosty air that cut about her shoulders as keen as a knife. I entreated and finally attempted to force her to retire, but I soon find a delirious strength much surpassed mine. She was delirious, I became convinced by her subsequent actions and ravings. There was no moon, and everything beneath lay in misty darkness. Not a light gleamed from any house, far and near, all had been extinguished long ago, and those at Wuthering Heights were never visible. Still she asserted she caught their shining. "'Look,' she cried eagerly, "'that's my room with the candle in it, and the tree swaying before it, and the other candle is in Joseph's garret. Joseph sits up late, doesn't he? He's waiting till I come home that he may lock the gate. Well, he'll wait a while yet. It's a rough journey, and a sad heart to travel it, and we must pass by Gimmett and Kirk to go that journey. We've braved its ghosts often together, and dared each other to stand among the graves and ask them to come. But Heathcliff, if I dare you now, will you venture? If you do, I'll keep you. I'm not lie there by myself. They may bury me twelve-feet deep, and throw the church down over me, but I won't rest till you are with me. I never will.' She paused and resumed with a strange smile. He's considering. It'd rather I'd come to him. "'Find a way, then, not through that kirkyard.  Be content. You always followed me.' Perceiving it vain to argue against her insanity, I was planning how I could reach something to rap about her without quitting my old of herself, for I could not trust her alone by the gaping lattice. Into my consternation I heard the rattle of the door-handle, and Mr. Linter entered. He had only, then, come from the library, and in passing through the lobby had noticed our talking, and been attracted by curiosity or fear to examine what is signified at that late hour. "'Oh, sir,' I cried, checking the exclamation rising to his lips at the site which met him, and the bleak atmosphere of the chamber. My poor mistress is ill, and she quite masters me. I cannot manage her at all. Pray come and persuade her to go to bed. Get your anger, for she's hard to guide any way but her own.' "'Catherine ill,' he said, hastening to us. "'Shut the window, Ellen. Catherine, why?' He was silent. The haggardness of Mrs. Linton's appearance smote him speechless, and he could only glance from her to me in horrified astonishment. "'She's been fretting here,' I continued, and eating scarcely anything, and never complaining. She would admit none of us till this evening, and so we couldn't inform you of her state, as we were not aware of it ourselves. But it is nothing.' I felt altered my explanations awkwardly. The master frowned. "'It is nothing, is it, Ellen Deane?' he said sternly.  And he took his wife in his arms, and looked at her with anguish.' At first she gave him no glance of recognition. He was invisible to her abstracted gaze. The delirium was not fixed, however, having winged her eyes from contemplating the altered darkness. By degrees she centred her attention on him, and discovered it was the elder. "'Ah!  You are one of those things that are ever found when least wanted, and when you are wanted never. I suppose we shall have plenty of lamentations now. I see we shall, but they can't keep me from my narrow home out yonder, my resting place, where I am bound before spring is over.' There it is, not among the Linton's mind, under the chapel-roof, but in the open air, with a head-stone, and you may please yourself whether you go to them or come to me. "'Catharine, what have you done?' commenced the master. "'Am I nothing to you any more? Do you love that wretched heath?' "'Hush!' cried Mrs. Linton. "'Hush this moment! You mention that name, and I end the matter instantly by a spring from the window. What you touch at present you may have, but my soul will be on that hilltop before you lay hands on me again. I don't want you, Edgar. I'm past wanting you. Return to your books. I'm glad you possess a consolation. For all you had in me is gone.' "'A mind wonders, sir,' I interposed. She's been talking nonsense the whole evening, but let her have quiet and proper attendance, and she'll rally. Hereafter we must be cautious how we vex her.' "'I desire no further advice from you,' answered Mr. Linton.  And not to give me one hint of how she's been these three days. It was heartless. Months of sickness could not cause such a change.' I began to defend myself, thinking it too bad to be blamed for another's wicked waywardness. "'I knew Mrs. Linton's nature to be headstrong and domineering,' cried I, "'but I didn't know that you wished to foster a fierce temper. I didn't know that to humour I should wink at Mr. Eathcliff. I performed the duty of a faithful servant in telling you, and I got a faithful servant's wages. Well it will teach me to be careful next time. Next time you may gather intelligence for yourself.' "'The next time you bring a tale to me, you shall quit my service,' Ellen Dean,' he replied. "'You'd rather ain't nothing about it, I suppose, then, Mr. Linton,' said I. "'Eathcliff, as you permission, to come according to Miss, and to drop in at every opportunity your absence offers, on purpose to poison the mistress against you.' Confused as Catherine was, her wits were alert, implying our conversation. "'Ah! Nelly has played traitor,' she exclaimed passionately. "'Nelly is my hidden enemy. You witch! So you do seek elf-bolts to hurt us. Let me go, and I'll make her rue. I'll make her howl a recantation.' A maniac's fury kindled under her brows. She struggled desperately to disengage herself from Linton's arms. I felt no inclination to tarry the event, and resolving to seek medical aid on my own responsibility, I quitted the chamber. In passing the garden to reach the road, at a place where a bridal look is driven into the wall, I saw something white moving irregularly, evidently by another agent than the wind. Notwithstanding my hurry, I stayed to examine it, lest ever after I should have the conviction impressed on my imagination, that it was a creature of the other world. My surprise and perplexity were great on discovering, by touch more than vision, Mrs. Abela's springer, Fanny, suspended by Anchor-Chief, and nearly at its last gasp. I quickly released the animal, and lifted it into the garden. I'd seen it follow its mistress upstairs when she went to bed, and wondering how much it could have got out there, and what mischievous person had treated it so. While untying the knot round the oak, it seemed to me that I repeatedly caught the beat of Ors's feet galloping at a distance, but there was such a number of things to occupy my reflections, that I hardly gave the circumstance a thought, though it was a strange sound in that place at two o'clock in the morning. Mr. Kenneth was fortunately just issuing from his house to see a patient in the village as I came up the street, and my account of Catherine Linton's malady induced him to accompany me back immediately. He was a plain rough man, and he made no scruple to speak his doubts of a surviving this second attack, unless she were more submissive to his directions than she had shown herself before. Nellie Dean, said he, I can't help fancying there's an extra cause for this. What has there been to do at the Grange? We've had odd reports up there. A stout arty lass like Catherine does not fall ill for a trifle, and that sort of people should not either. It's hard work bringing them through fevers and such things. How did it begin?  I may say this. It commenced in a quarrel. She was struck during a tempest of passion with a kind of fit. That's her account, at least, for she flew off in the out of it and locked herself up. Afterwards she refused to eat, and now she alternately raved and remained in a half-dream, knowing those about her, but having a mind filled with all sorts of strange ideas and delusions. Mr. Linton will be sorry, observed Kenneth interrogatively. Sorry! It'll break his heart should anything happen, I replied. Don't alarm him any more than necessary. Well, I told him to beware, said my companion, and he must buy the consequences of neglecting my warning. Hasn't he been intimate with Mr. Eathcliff lately? Eathcliff frequently visits at the Grange, answered I, the more on the strength of the mistress having known him when a boy, than because the master likes his company. At present he's discharged from the trouble of calling, owing to some presumptuous aspirations after Mrs. Linton, which he manifested, hardly think will be taken in again. And does Mrs. Linton turn a cold shoulder on him? was the doctor's next question. I'm not in her confidence, returned I, reluctant to continue the subject.  She keeps her own counsel.  I have it from good authority that last night, and a pretty night it was, she and Eathcliff were walking in the plantation at the back of your house above two hours, and he pressed her not to go in again, but just mount his horse and away with him. My informant said she could only put him off by pledging a word of honour to be prepared on their first meeting after that, when it was to be he didn't ere. But you urge Mr. Linton to look sharp. This news filled me with fresh fears. I outstripped Kenneth, and ran most of the way back. The little dog was yelping in the garden yet. I spared a minute to open the gate for it, but instead of going to the outside door it coursed up and down, snuffling the grass, and would have escaped to the road had I not seized it and conveyed it in with me. On ascending to Isabella's room my suspicions were confirmed. It was empty. I had been a few hours sooner, Mrs. Linton's illness might have arrested her rash step. But what could be done now? There was a bare possibility of overtaking them if pursued instantly. I could not pursue them, however, and I dared not rouse the family and fill the place with confusion, still less unfold the business to me master, absorbed as he was in his present calamity, and having no art to spare for a second grief. I saw nothing for it but to hold my tongue and suffer matters to take their course, and Kenneth being arrived I went with a badly composed countenance to announce him. Catherine lay in a troubled sleep. Her husband had succeeded in soothing the excess of frenzy. He now hung over a pillow, watching every shade and every change of her painfully expressive features. The doctor, on examining the case for himself, spoke awfully to him of its having a favorable termination, if we could only preserve around her perfect and constant tranquility. To me he signified the threatening danger was not so much death as permanent alienation of intellect. I did not close my eyes that night, nor did Mr. Linton, indeed. We never went to bed, and the servants were all up long before the usual hour, moving through the house with stealthy tread and exchanging whispers as they encountered each other in their vocations. Everyone was active but Mrs. Abela, and they began to remark how sound she slept, her brother too, asked if she had risen, and seemed impatient for her presence, and inert that she showed so little anxiety for her sister-in-law. I trembled lest he should send me to call her, but I've spared the pain of being the first proclaimment of her flight. One of the maids, a thoughtless girl, who had been on early errand to Gimmeton, came panting upstairs, open-mouthed, and dashed into the chamber crying, "'Oh, dear, dear! What morn we have next? Master, master, our young lady!' "'Old your noise!' cried I, hastily, enraged at a clamorous manner. "'Speak lower, Mary. What is the matter?' said Mr. Linton. "'What hails your young lady?' "'She's gone. She's gone.' "'Your neathcliffs run off, we are,' gasped the girl. "'That's not true,' exclaimed Linton, rising in agitation. "'It cannot be. How has the idea entered your head? Ellen Dean, go and seek her. It is incredible. It cannot be.' As he spoke, he took the sown to the door, and repeated his demand to know her reasons for such an assertion. "'Why, I met Aunt Road, a lad that fetches milk here.' She stammered. And he asked whether we weren't in trouble at the Grange. I thought he met for Mrs. Sickness. So I answered, yes. Then says he. There's somebody gone after him, I guess. I stared. He saw on you note about it, and he told our gentleman and a lady had stopped to have all his shoe fastened at a blacksmith's shop, two miles out of Gimerton, and not very long after midnight, and how the blacksmiths last had got up to spy as who they were. She knew them both directly, and she noticed the man. Eathcliff it was. She felt certain nobody could be mistaken besides put her sovereign in her father's hand for payment. The lady had a cloak about her face, but having desired a supper water, while she drank, it fell back, and she saw a very plain. Eathcliff held both bridles as they rode on, and set the faces from the village, and went as fast as the rough roads would let them. The lass said nothing to her father, but she told it all over Gimerton this morning. I ran in peep for formsake into Isabella's room, confirming when I returned the servant's statement. Linda Lynton had resumed his seat by the bed. On my re-entrance he raised his eyes, read the meaning of my blank aspect, and dropped them without giving an order or uttering a word. Are we to try any measures for overtaking and bringing her back, I inquired. How should we do? She went to her own accord, answered the master. She had a right to go, if she pleased. Trouble me no more about her. Hereafter she is only my sister in name, not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me. And that was all he said on the subject. He did not make single inquiry further, or mention her in any way, except directing me to send what property she had in the house to her threshold wherever it was when I knew it. CHAPTER XIII For two months the fugitives remained absent.  No mother could have nursed an only child more devotedly than Edgar Tenderder. Day and night he was watching, and patiently enduring all the annoyances that irritable nerves and a shaken reason could inflict. And though Kenneth remarked that what he saved from the grave would only recompense his care by forming the source of constant future anxiety, in fact that his health and strength were being sacrificed to preserve a mere ruin of humanity, he knew no limits in gratitude and joy when Catherine's life was declared out of danger, and an hour after hour he would sit beside her, tracing the gradual return to bodily elf, and flattering his two sanguine hopes with the illusion that her mind would settle back to its right balance also, and she would soon be entirely a former self. The first time she left her chamber was at the commencement of the following march. Mr. Lynton had put on her pillow in the morning a handful of golden crocuses. Her eye, long stranger to any gleam of pleasure, caught them in waking, and Sean delighted as she gathered them eagerly together. These are the earliest flowers at the heights, she exclaimed. They remind me of soft thaw winds and warm sunshine, and nearly melted snow. Edgar is then not a south wind, and is not the snow almost gone. The snow is quite gone down here, darling," replied her husband, and I only see two white spots on the whole range of moors. The sky is blue, and the larks are singing, and the becks and brooks are brimful. Catherine, last spring at this time, I was longing to have you under this roof. Now I wish you were a mile or two up those hills. The air blows so sweetly, I feel that it would cure you. I shall never be there but once more," said the invalid, and then you'll leave me, and I shall remain forever. Next spring you'll long to have me under this roof, and you'll look back and think you are happy to-day. Catherine lavished on her the kindest caresses, and tried to cheer her by the fondest words, but vaguely regarding the flowers she let her tears collect under lashes, and streamed down her cheeks unheeding. We knew she was really better, and therefore decided that long confinement to a single place produced much of this despondency, and it might be partially removed by a change of scene. The master told me to light a fire in the many weeks deserted parlor, and to set an easy chair to the sunshine by the window, and then he brought her down, and she sat a long while enjoying the genial heat, and as we expected revived by the object's rounder, which though familiar were free from the dreary associations investing her aided sick chamber. By evening she seemed greatly exhausted, yet no arguments could persuade her to return to that apartment, and had to arrange the parlor sofa for her bed till another room could be prepared. To obviate the fatigue of mounting and descending the stairs, we fitted up this, where you lie at present, on the same floor with the parlor, and she was soon strong enough to move from one to the other, leaning on Edgar's arm. Ah! I thought to myself, she might recover, so weighted on as she was. And there was double cost to desire it, for on her existence depended that of another, which cherished the hope that in a little while Mr. Linton's art would be gladdened, and his land secured from a stranger's gripe by birth of an heir. I should mention that Isabella sent to her brother some six weeks from her departure a short note announcing her marriage with Heathcliff. It appeared dry and cold, but at the bottom was dotted in with pencil and obscure apology, and an entreaty for kind remembrance and reconciliation if her proceeding had offended him, asserting that she could not help it then, and being done she had no power to repeal it. Linton did not reply to this, I believe, and in a fortnight more I got a long letter, which I considered odd to come in from the pen of a bride just out of the honeymoon. I'll read it, for I keep it yet. Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living. Dear Ellen! It begins. I came last night to Wuthering Heights, and heard for the first time that Catherine has been, and is yet very ill. I must not write to her, I suppose, and my brother is either too angry or too distressed to answer what I sent him. Still, I must write to somebody, and the only choice left me is you.  I can't follow it through. These words are underlined. They need not expect me, and they may draw what conclusions they please, taking care however to lay nothing at the door of my weak will nor deficient affection. The remainder of the letter is for yourself alone. I want to ask you two questions. The first is, how did you contrive to preserve the common sympathies of human nature when you resided here? I cannot recognize any sentiment which those around share with me. The second question I have great interest in, it is this. Is Mr. Heathcliff a man? If so, is he mad? And if not, is he a devil? I shan't tell my reasons for making this inquiry, but I will seek you to explain, if you can, what I have married. That is, when you call to see me, and you must call Ellen very soon. Don't write, but come, and bring me something from Edgar. Now, you shall hear how I have been received in my new home, as I am led to imagine the heights will be. It is to amuse myself that I dwell on such subjects as the lack of external comforts. They never occupy my thoughts except at the moment when I miss them. I should laugh and dance for joy if I found their absence with the total of my miseries, and the rest was an unnatural dream. The sun set behind the grange as we turned onto the moors. By that I judged it to be six o'clock, and my companion halted half an hour to inspect the park and the gardens, and probably the place itself, as well as he could. So it was dark when we dismounted in the paved yard of the farmhouse, and your old fellow servant Joseph eschewed out to receive us by the light of a dip-candle. He did it with a courtesy that resounded to his credit. His first act was to elevate his torch to a level of my face, squint malignantly, project his underlip, and turn away. Then he took the two horses and led them into the stables, reappearing for the purpose of locking the outer gate, as if we lived in an ancient castle. Heathcliff stayed to speak with him, and I entered the kitchen, a dingy, untidy hole. I daresay you would not know it, it is so changed since it was in your charge.  This is Edgar's legal nephew, I reflected, mine in a manner. I must shake hands, and, yes, I must kiss him. It is right to establish a good understanding at the beginning. I approached, and attempting to take his chubby fist said, How do you do, my dear? He replied in a jargon I did not comprehend. Shall you and I be friends, Herton, was my next essay at conversation? An oath and a threat to set throttler on me if I did not frame off rewarded my perseverance. Hey, throttler lad! whispered the little wretch, rousing a half-bread bulldog from its lair in a corner. Now what thou be ganging? he asked, authoritatively. Love for my life urged a compliance. I stepped over the threshold to wait till the others should enter. Mr. Heathcliff was nowhere visible, and Joseph, whom I followed to the stables and requested to accompany me in, after staring and muttering to himself, screwed up his nose and replied, Mim, mim, mim, did ever a Christian bodyer out like it, mincing and munching? How can I tell what you say? I say I wish you to come with me into the house, I cried, thinking in death, yet highly disgusted at his rudeness. None of me are getting some else to do. He answered, and continued his work, moving his lance and jaws, meanwhile, and surveying my dress and countenance. The former agreed to deal too fine, but the latter, I'm sure, as sad as he could desire, with sovereign contempt. I walked round the yard, and threw a wicket to another door, at which I took the liberty of knocking, in hopes some more civil servant might show himself. After a short suspense he was opened by a tall gauntman without neck-a-chief, and otherwise extremely slovenly. His features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung on his shoulders, and his eyes, too, were like a ghostly Catherine's with all their beauty annihilated. What's your business here? He demanded grimly. Who are you? My name was Isabella Linton, I replied. You've seen me before, sir. I'm lately married to Mr. Heathcliff, and he has brought me here, I suppose, by your permission. Is he come back, then? asked the hermit, glaring like a hungry wolf. Yes, we came back just now, I said, but he left me by the kitchen door, and when I would have gone in your little boy played sentinel over the place, and frightened me off by the help of a bulldog. It's well the hellish villain has kept his word, growl my future host, searching the darkness beyond me in expectation of discovering Heathcliff, and then he indulged in a soliloquy of execrations and threats of what he would have done had the fiend deceived him. I repented having tried this second entrance, and was almost inclined to slip away before he finished cursing, but here I could execute that intention. He ordered me in, and shot and re-fastened the door. There was a great fire, and that was all the light in the huge apartment, whose floor had grown a uniform gray, and the once brilliant pewter dishes, which used to attract my gaze when I was a girl, partook of a similar obscurity, created by tarnish and dust. I inquired whether I might call the maid and be conducted to a bedroom. Mr. Earnshaw vouchsafed no answer. He walked up and down, with his hands in his pockets, apparently quite forgetting my presence, and his abstraction was evidently so deep and his whole aspect so misanthropical that I shrank from disturbing him again. You'll not be surprised, Ellen, at my feeling particularly cheerless, seated in worse than solitude on that inhospitable hearth, and remembering that four miles distant lay my delightful home, containing the only people I loved on earth, and there might as well be the Atlantic to part us instead of those four miles. I could not overpass them. I questioned with myself, where must I turn for comfort? And mind, don't tell Edgar or Catherine, above every sorrow beside this rose preeminent, despair at finding nobody who could or would be my ally against Heathcliff. I had sought shelter at Wuthering Heights, almost gladly, because I was secured by that arrangement from living alone with him. But he mulled the people we were coming amongst, and he did not fear their intermeddling. I sat and thought a doleful time. The clock struck eight and nine, and still my companion paced to and fro, his head bent on his breast and perfectly silent, unless a groan or a bitter ejaculation forced itself out at intervals. I listened to detect a woman's voice in the house, and filled the interim with wild regrets and dismal anticipations, which at last spoke audibly in irrepressible sighing and weeping. I was not aware how openly I grieved till Earnshaw halted opposite in his measured walk, and gave me a stare of newly awakened surprise. Taking advantage of his recovered attention, I exclaimed, I'm tired with my journey, and I want to go to bed. Where is the maid-servant? Direct me to her. She won't come to me. We have none. He answered, You must wait on yourself. Where must I sleep, then? I sobbed. I was beyond regarding self-respect, weighed down by fatigue and wretchedness. Joseph will show you Heathcliff's chamber. Said he. Open that door. He's in there. I was going to obey, but he suddenly arrested me and added in the strangest tone, Be so good as to turn your lock, and draw your bolt. Don't admit it. Well, I said, But why, Mr. Earnshaw? I did not relish the notion of deliberately fastening myself in with Heathcliff. Look here! He replied, pulling from his waist-cut a curiously constructed pistol, having a double-edged spring-knife attached to the barrel. That's a great tempter to a desperate man, is it not? I cannot resist going up with this every night and trying his door. If once I find it open, he's done for. I do it invariably, even though the minute before I have been recalling a hundred reasons that should make me refrain, it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him. You fight against that devil for love as long as you may. When the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him. I surveyed the weapon inquisitively. A hideous notion struck me. How powerful I should be possessing such an instrument. I took it from his hand and touched the blade. He looked astonished, the expression my face assumed during a brief second. It was not horror. It was covetousness. He snatched the pistol back jealously, shut the knife, and returned it to its concealment. I don't care if you tell him, said he, put him on his guard and watch for him. You know the terms we are on. I see his danger does not shock you.  In what has he wronged you to warrant this appalling hatred? Wouldn't it be wiser to bit him, quits this house? No. Thunderdarnshaw, should he offer to leave me, he's a dead man. Persuade him to attempt it, and you are a murderous. Am I to lose all, without a chance of retrieval? Is Herton to be a beggar? Oh, damnation!  It will be ten times blacker with that guest than ever it was before. You've acquainted me, Ellen, with your old master's habits. He is clearly on the verge of madness. He was so last night, at least. I shuddered to be near him and thought on the servant's ill-bred moroseness as comparatively agreeable. He now recommended his moody walk, and I raised the latch, and escaped into the kitchen. Joseph was bending over the fire, peering into a large pan that swung above it, and a wooden bowl of oatmeal stored on the settle close by. The contents of the pan began to boil, and turning to plunge his hand into the bowl, I conjectured that this preparation was probably for our supper, and being hungry I resolved it shall be eatable. So crying out sharply, I'll make the porridge. I removed the vessel out of his reach, and proceeded to take off my hat and riding-habit. Mr. Earnshaw, I continued, directs me to wait on myself. I will. I'm not going to act the lady among you, for fear I should starve. Good Lord! He muttered, sitting down and stroking his ribbed stockings from the knee to the ankle. If there's to be fresh orderings, Joseph's snub is getting used to me, too, masters. If none of her mistress set her on me, it's like time to be flitting. I never did think to seat at day that I would have to leave to all place, but I doubt it's nigh, and— This lamentation drew no notice from me. I went briskly to work, sighing to remember a period when it would have been all merry fun, but compelled speedily to drive off the remembrance. It racked me to recall past happiness, and the greater peril though was of conjuring up its apparition, the quicker the thimble ran round, and the faster the handfuls of meat fell into the water. You beheld my style of cookery with growing indignation. There! He ejaculated. Ayrton! They all stuck porridge to-night, they'll be note but lumps as big as my knave. There again! I'd flinging bull and all far with you. There paled gup off, and then will ye have done with it. Bang, bang! It's a mercy to bore them, isn't deved out. It was rather a rough mess I own when poured into the basins. Four had been provided, and a gallant picture of new milk was brought from the dairy, which Heyrton seized and commenced drinking and spilling from the expansive lip. I expostulated and desired that he should have his in a mug, affirming that I could not taste the liquid treated so dirtily. The old cynic chose to be vastly offended at this nicety, assuring me repeatedly that the barn was every bit as good as I, and every bit as wholesome, and wondering how I could fashion to be so conceited. Meanwhile the instant ruffian continued sucking, and glowered up at me defyingly as he slathered into the jug. I shall have my supper in another room, I said.  Parler! He echoed sneeringly. Parler? Nay, with no parlours. If ye don't like a company, there's masters. If ye don't like master, there's us. Then I shall go upstairs, I answered. Show me a chamber. I put my basin on a tray, and went myself to fetch some more milk. With great grumblings, the fellow rose, and proceeded me in my scent. We mounted to the garret. He opened a door, now and then, to look into the apartments we passed. Is there rum? He said at last, flinging back a cranky board on hinges. It's well enough to air to view Borigen. There's a back-accordant corner, there, meekly-clain. If ye feared a mucky ing a grand silt-close, spread your anchor-shift on top with it. The Rarm was a kind of lumber-hole, smelling strong of molten grain, various sacks of which were articles piled around, leaving a wide-bear space in the middle. Why, man, I exclaimed, facing him angrily, this is not a place to sleep in. I wish to see my bedroom. Bedroom? He repeated, in a tone of mockery. You've seen all bedrooms there is, yon's mine. He pointed into the second garret, only differing from the first and being more naked about the walls, and having a large, low, curtainless bed, with an indigo-coloured quilt at one end. What should I want with yours? I retorted. I suppose Mr. Heathcliff does not lodge at the top of the house, does he? Oh, it's Master Heathcliff's he's wanting. Cried he, as if making a new discovery. Could you had said so, unsed? On then it would have told you about all this work, that's just one you cannot see. The other keeps it locked, and nobody ever melts on it but himself. You've a nice house, Joseph. I could not fray from observing, and pleasant inmates, and I think the concentrated essence of all the madness in the world took up its abode in my brain the day I linked my fate with theirs. However, that is not the present purpose. There are other rooms, for heaven's sake be quick and let me settle somewhere. He made no reply to this adoration, only plodding doggedly down the wooden steps, and halting before an apartment, from which that halt and the superior quality of its furniture I conjectured to be the best one. There was a carpet, a good one, but the pattern was obliterated by dust. A fireplace hung with cut paper dropping to pieces, a handsome oak bedstead with ample crimson curtains of rather expensive material and modern make, but they had evidently experienced rough usage. The valences hung in festoons, wrenched from their rings, and the iron rods supporting them was bent in an arc on one side, causing the drapery to trail upon the floor. The chairs were also damaged, many of them severely, and deep indentations deformed the panels of the walls. I was endeavouring to gather a resolution for entering and taking possession when my fool of a guide announced, This air is musters. My supper by this time was cold, my appetite gone, and my patience exhausted. I insisted on being provided instantly with a place of refuge and beans of repose. Where the devil? Began the religious elder. The Lord blesses, the Lord forgives.  Your married wears some note. You see Norbert Ayrton's bit of chamber, there's not another old to lick down at this ear-house. I was so vexed I flung my train its contents on the ground, and then seated myself at the stairs-head, hid my face in my hands, and cried. Hey, hey! exclaimed Joseph. Well done, Miss Cathy, well done, Miss Cathy. Our severed temp masters will just turn low and then broke and pots, and then with ear summits. With ear hours to be, good for no maddling. You deserve pining for this to Christmas, flinging precious gifts of gold under foot of your flesh and rages. But I'm a-stating if you show your spirit long. Will these glyphs by such bony ways think you? I know what wish you may catch here at Pliskey. I know what wish you may. And so he went on scolding to his den beneath, taking the candle with him, and I remained in the dark. The period of reflection succeeding this silly action compelled me to admit the necessity of smothering my pride and choking my wrath, and bestowing myself to remove its effects. An unexpected aid presently appeared in the shape of throttler, whom I now recognized as a son of your old Sculker. It had spent its well-put at the Grange, and was given by my father to Mr. Hindley. I fancy it knew me. It pushed its nose against mine by way of salute, and then hastened to devour the porridge while I groped from step to step, collecting the shattered earthenware and drying the spatters of milk from the banister with my pocket-hankerchief. Our labours were scarcely over when I heard Earnshaw's tread in the passage. My assistant tucked in his tail and pressed to the wall. I stole into the nearest doorway. The dog's endeavour to avoid him was unsuccessful, as I guessed by a scutter downstairs, and prolonged piteous yelling. I had better luck.  Directly after Joseph came up with Herton to put him to bed, I had found shelter in Herton's room, and the old man on seeing me said, There's room for both you and your pride now, I should think it ass. It's empty. You may be all to yourself, and him and Alice makes a third. It's such a old company. Gladly I did take advantage of this intimation, and the minute I flung myself into a chair by the fire, I nodded and slept. My slumber was deep and sweet, though over far too soon. Mr. Heathcliff awoke me. He had just come in, and demanded in his loving manner what I was doing there. I told him the cause of my staying up so late, that he had the key of our room in his pocket. The adjective hour gave mortal offence. He swore it was not, nor ever should be mine, and he'd, but I'll not repeat his language, nor describe his habitual conduct. He's ingenious and unrestigant, seeking to gain my abhorrence. I sometimes wonder at him with an intensity that deadens my fear, yet I assure you a tiger or a venomous serpent could not rouse terror in me equal to that which he wakens. He told me of Catherine's illness, and accused my brother of causing it, promising that I should be Edgar's proxy in suffering till he could get hold of him. I do hate him. I am wretched.  Beware of uttering one breath of this to anyone at the Grange. I shall expect you every day. Don't disappoint me. Isabella. End of CHAPTER XIII. CHAPTER XIV. CHAPTER XIV. As soon as I had perused this epistle, I went to the master, and informed him that his sister had arrived at the Heights, and sent me a letter expressing her sorrow for Mrs. Linton's situation, and her ardent desire to see him, with a wish that he would transmit to her, as early as possible, some token of forgiveness by me. Forgiveness, said Linton, I have nothing to forgive her, Ellen. You may call at Wuthering Heights this afternoon, if you like, and say that I am not angry, but I am sorry to have lost her, especially as I can never think she'll be happy. It is out of the question, my going to see her, however, we are eternally divided. And should she really wish to oblige me, let her persuade the villain she has married to leave the country.  I asked imploringly. No, he answered. It is needless. My communication with Heathcliff's family shall be as sparing as his with mine. It shall not exist. Mr. Edgar's coldness depressed me exceedingly, and all the way from the Grange I puzzled my brains how to put more heart into what he said, when I repeated it, and how to soften his refusal of even a few lines to console Isabella. I dare say she had been on the watch for me since morning. I saw her looking through the lattice as I came up the Garden Causeway and I nodded to her, but she drew back as if afraid of being observed. I entered without knocking. There never was such a dreary dismal scene as the former cheerful house presented. I must confess that if I had been in the young lady's place, I would at least have swept the hearth and wiped the tables with a duster. But she already partook of the pervading spirit of neglect which encompassed her. Her pretty face was wan and listless. Her hair uncurled. Some locks hanging lengthly down, and some carelessly twisted round her head. Probably she had not touched her dress since yesterday evening. Hindley was not there. Mr. Heathcliff sat at a table, turning over some papers in his pocket-book, but he rose when I appeared, asked me how I did, quite friendly, and offered me a chair. He was the only thing there that seemed decent, and I thought he never looked better. So much in circumstances altered their positions that he would certainly have struck a stranger as a born and bred gentleman, and his wife as a thorough little slattern. She came forward eagerly to greet me, and held out one hand to take the expected letter. I shook my head. She wouldn't understand the hint, but followed me to a side-board, where I went to lay my bonnet, and importuned me and a whisper to give her directly what I had brought. Heathcliff guessed the meaning of her maneuvers, and said, if you have got anything for Isabella, as no doubt you have, Nellie, give it to her. We needn't make a secret of it. We have no secrets between us. Oh, I have nothing, I replied, thinking at best to speak the truth at once. My master bid me tell his sister that she must not expect either a letter or a visit from him at present. He sends his love, ma'am, and he wishes for your happiness, and his pardon for the grief you have occasioned. But he thinks that after this time, his household and the household here should drop in her communication, as nothing could come of keeping it up. This Heathcliff's lips quivered slightly, and she returned to her seat in the window. Her husband took his stand on the hearthstone near me, and began to put questions concerning Catherine. I told him as much as I thought proper of her illness, and he extorted for me by cross-examination most of the facts connected with its origin. I blamed her, as she deserved, for bringing it all on herself, and ended by hoping that he would follow Mr. Linton's example and avoid future interference with his family for good or evil. Mrs. Linton is now just recovering, I said. She'll never be like she was, but her life is spared. And if you really have a regard for her, you'll shun crossing her way again. Nay, you'll move out of this country entirely, and that you may not regret it. I'll inform you Catherine Linton is as different now from your old friend Catherine Earnshaw, as that young lady is different from me. Her appearance has changed greatly, her character much more so, and the person who is compelled of necessity to be her companion will only sustain his affection hereafter by the remembrance of what she once was, by common humanity and a sense of duty. That is quite possible, remarked Heathcliff, forcing himself to seem calm.  But do you imagine that I shall leave Catherine to his duty and humanity? And can you compare my feelings respecting Catherine to his? Before you leave this house, I must exact a promise from you that you'll get me an interview with her. Consent or refuse? I will see her. What do you say? I say, Mr. Heathcliff, I replied, you must not. You never shall, through my means.  With your aid that may be avoided, he continued, and should there be danger of such an event? Should he be the cause of adding a single trouble more to her existence? Why I think I shall be justified in going to extremes.  The fear that she would restrains me. And there you see the distinction between our feelings. Had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please. I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out and drunk his blood. But till then, if you don't believe me, you don't know me. Till then I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head. And yet, I interrupted, you have no scruples in completely ruining all hopes of her perfect restoration by thrusting yourself into her remembrance now, when she has nearly forgotten you, and involving her in a new tumult of discord and distress. You suppose she has nearly forgotten me, he said? Oh, Nellie, you know she has not. You know as well as I do that for every thought she spends on Linton, she spends a thousand on me. At a most miserable period of my life I had a notion of the kind. It haunted me in my return to the neighborhood last summer, but only her own assurance could make me admit the horrible idea again. And then Linton would be nothing, nor hindly, nor all the dreams that ever I dreamt.  Existence, after losing her, would be hell. Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine. If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have. The sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough as her whole affection be monopolized by him. Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog or her horse. It is not in him to be loved like me. How can she love in him what he has not? Catherine and Edgar are as fond of each other as any two people can be, cried Isabella with sudden vivacity. No one has a right to talk in that manner, and I won't hear my brother depreciated in silence. Your brother is wondrous fond of you, too, isn't he? observed Heathcliff scornfully. He turns you adrift on the world with surprising alacrity. He is not aware of what I suffer, she replied. I didn't tell him that. You have been telling him something, then. You have written, have you? To say that I was married I did write. You saw the note. And nothing sense? No. My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition, I remarked. Somebody's love comes short in her case, obviously. Who's, I may guess, but perhaps I shouldn't say. I should guess it was her own, said Heathcliff. She degenerates into a mere slut. She is tired of trying to please me uncommonly early. You'd hardly credit it, but the very morrow of our wedding she was weeping to go home. However, she'll suit this house so much the better for not being overnight, and I'll take care she does not disgrace me by rambling abroad. Well, sir, returned I, I hope you'll consider that Mrs. Heathcliff is accustomed to being looked after and waited on, and that she has been brought up like an only daughter, whom everyone was ready to serve. You must let her have a maid to keep things tidy about her, and you must treat her kindly. Whatever be your notion of Mr. Edgar, you cannot doubt that she has a capacity for strong attachments, or she wouldn't have abandoned the elegancies and comforts and friends of her former home to fix contentedly in such a wilderness as this with you. She abandoned them under a delusion, he answered, picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the false impressions she cherished. But at last I think she begins to know me. I don't perceive the silly smiles and grimaces that provoked me at first, and the senseless incapability of discerning that I was an earnest when I gave her my opinion of her infatuation in herself. It was a marvelous effort of perspicacity to discover that I did not love her. I believed at one time no lessons could teach her that.  If it be achieved, I have cause to return thanks. Can I trust your assertion, Isabella? Are you sure you hate me?  I daresay she would rather I had seemed all tenderness before you. It wounds her vanity to have the truth exposed, but I don't care who knows that the passion was wholly on one side, and I never told her a lie about it. She cannot accuse me of showing one bit of deceitful softness. The first thing she saw me do on coming out of the Grange was to hang up her little dog, and when she pleaded for it, the first words I uttered were a wish that I had the hanging of every being belonging to her except one. Possibly she took that exception for herself, but no brutality disgusted her. I suppose she has an innate admiration of it, if only her precious person were secure from injury. Now was it not the depth of absurdity, of genuine idiocy, for that pitiful, slavish, mean-minded brock to dream that I could love her? Tell your master, Nellie, that I never in all my life met with such an abject thing as she is. She even disgraces the name of Linton, and I've sometimes relented, from pure lack of invention, in my experiments and what she could endure, and still creep shamefully cringing back. But tell him also to set his fraternal and magisterial heart at ease, that I keep strictly within the limits of the law. I have avoided up to this period giving her the slightest right to claim the separation, and, what's more, she'd thank nobody for dividing us, if she desired to go she might. The nuisance of her presence outweighs the gratification to be derived from tormenting her. Mr. Heathcliff said I, this is the talk of a madman.  But now that you say she may go, she'll doubtless avail herself of the permission. You are not so bewitched, ma'am, are you as to remain with him of your own accord?  There was no misdoubting by their expression the full success of her partner's endeavours to make himself detested. Don't put faith in a single word he speaks. He's a lying fiend, a monster, and not a human being. I've been told I might leave him before, and I've made the attempt, but I dare not repeat it. Only, Ellen, promise you'll not mention a syllable of his infamous conversation to my brother or Catherine. Whatever he may pretend, he wishes to provoke Edgar to desperation. He says he has married me on purpose to obtain power over him, and he shan't obtain it.  I just hope, I pray, that he may forget his diabolical prudence and kill me. The single pleasure I can imagine is to die, or to see him dead. There! That will do for the present, said Heathcliff. If you are called upon in a court of law, you'll remember her language, Nellie. And take a good look at that countenance. She's near the point which would suit me. No, you're not fit to be your own guardian, Isabella. Now, an eye being your legal protector, must retain you in my custody, however distasteful the obligation may be. Go upstairs. I have something to say to Ellen Dean in private. That's not the way—upstairs, I tell you. Why, this is the road upstairs, child. He seized and thrust her from the room, and returned muttering, I have no pity, I have no pity. The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails. It is a moral teething, and I grind with greater energy in proportion to the increase of pain. Do you understand what the word pity means, I said, hastening to resume my bonnet? Did you ever feel a touch of it in your life? Put that down, he interrupted, perceiving my intention to depart. You are not going yet. Come here now, Nellie. I must either persuade or compel you to aid me in fulfilling my determination to see Catherine, and that without delay. I swear that I meditate, no harm. I don't desire to cause any disturbance, or to exasperate or insult Mr. Linton. I only wish to hear from herself how she is, and why she has been ill, and to ask if anything that I could do would be of use to her. Last night I was in the Grange Garden six hours, and I'll turn there to-night, and every night I'll haunt the place, and every day till I find an opportunity of entering. If Edgar Linton meets me, I shall not hesitate to knock him down, and give him enough to ensure his quiescence while I stay. If his servants oppose me, I shall threaten them off with these pistols. But wouldn't it be better to prevent my coming in contact with them or their master? And you could do it so easily. I'd warn you when I came, and then you might let me in unobserved, as soon as she was alone, and watch till I departed. Your conscience quite calm. You would be hindering mischief. I protested against playing that treacherous part in my employer's house, and besides, I urged the cruelty and selfishness of his destroying Mrs. Linton's tranquility for his satisfaction. The commonest occurrence startles her painfully, I said. She's all nerves, and she couldn't bear the surprise I'm positive. Don't persist, sir, or else I shall be obliged to inform my master of your designs, and he'll take measures to secure his house and its inmates from any such unwarrantable intrusions. In that case, I'll take measures to secure you, woman, exclaimed Heathcliff. You shall not leave Wethering Heights till tomorrow morning. It is a foolish story to assert that Catherine could not bear to see me, and as to surprising her, I don't desire it. You must prepare her. Ask her if I may come. You say she never mentions my name, and that I am never mentioned to her. To whom should she mention me if I am a forbidden topic in the house? She thinks you are all spies for her husband.  I guess by her silence as much as anything what she feels. You say she is often restless and anxious-looking. Is that a proof of tranquility? You talk of her mind being unsettled. How the devil could it be otherwise in her frightful isolation? In that insipid paltry creature attending her from duty and humanity, from pity and charity, he might as well plant an oak in a flower pot and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigor in the soil of his shallow cares. Let us settle it at once. Will you stay here, and am I to fight my way to Catherine, overlitten in his footmen, or will you be my friend, as you have been hithered to, and do what I request? Decide, because there is no reason for my lingering another minute if you persist in your stubborn ill nature. While Mr. Lockwood I argued and complained and flatly refused him fifty times, but in the long run he forced me to an agreement. I engaged to carry a letter from him to my mistress, and should she consent, I promised to let him have intelligence of Linton's next absence from home, when he might come, and get in as he was able. I wouldn't be there, and my fellow servants should be equally out of the way. Was it right or wrong? I fear it was wrong, though expedient. I thought I prevented another explosion by my compliance, and I thought, too, it might create a favorable crisis in Catherine's mental illness, and then I remembered Mr. Edgar's stern rebuke of my carrying tales, and I tried to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, by affirming, with frequent iteration, that that betrayal of trust, if it merited so harsh an appellation, should be the last. Notwithstanding my journey homeward was sadder than my journey thither, and many misgivings I had ere I could prevail on myself to put the misive into Mrs. Linton's hand. But here is Kenneth. I'll go down and tell him how much better you are. My history is dre, as we say, and will serve to while away another morning. Dre and dreary, I reflected as the good woman descended to receive the doctor, and not exactly of the kind which I should have chosen to amuse me. But never mind, I'll extract wholesome medicines for Mrs. Dean's bitter herbs, and firstly, let me be aware of the fascination that lurks in Catherine Heathcliff's brilliant eyes. I should be in a curious taking if I surrendered my heart to that young person, and the daughter turned out a second edition of The Mother. Chapter 15 of Wuthering Heights. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Larissa Jaworski, Brisbane, Australia. Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte. Chapter 15. Another week over, and I am so many days nearer health, and spring. I have now heard all my neighbour's history at different sittings, as the housekeeper could spare time from more important occupations. I'll continue it in her own words. Only a little condensed. She is, on the whole, a very fair narrator, and I don't think I could improve her style. In the evening, she said, the evening of my visit to the Heights, I knew, as well as if I saw him, that Mr Heathcliff was about the place. And I shunned going out, because I still carried his letter in my pocket, and I didn't want to be threatened or teased any more. I had made up my mind not to give it till my master went somewhere, as I could not guess how its receipt would affect Catherine. The consequence was that it did not reach her before the lapse of three days. The fourth was a Sunday, and I brought it to her room after the family were gone to church. There was a manservant left to keep the house with me, and we generally made a practice of locking the doors during the hours of the service. But on that occasion the weather was so warm and pleasant that I set them wide open, and to fulfil my engagement as I knew who would be coming, I told my companion that the mistress wished very much for some oranges, and he must run over to the village and get a few to be paid for on the morrow. He departed, and I went upstairs. Mrs. Linton sat in a loose white dress, with a light shawl over her shoulders in the recess of the open window, as usual. Her thick long hair had been partly removed at the beginning of her illness, and now she wore it simply combed in its natural tresses over her temples and neck. Her appearance was altered, as I had told Heathcliff, but when she was calm there seemed unearthly beauty in the change. The flash of her eyes had been succeeded by a dreamy and melancholy softness. They no longer gave the impression of looking at objects around her. They appeared always to gaze beyond, and far beyond. You would have said out of this world, then the paleness of her face, its haggard aspect having vanished as she recovered flesh, and the peculiar expression arising from her mental state, though painfully suggestive of their causes, added to the touching interest which she awakened, and, invariably to me, I know, and to any person who saw her, I should think, refuted more tangible proofs of convalescence, and stamped her as one doomed to decay. A book lay spread on the cell before her, and the scarcely perceptible wind fluttered its leaves at intervals. I believe Linton had laid it there, for she never endeavored to divert herself with reading, or occupation of any kind, and he would spend many an hour in trying to entice her attention to some subject which had formally been her amusement. She was conscious of his aim, and in her better moods endured his efforts placidly, only showing their uselessness by now and then suppressing a wearied sigh, and checking him at last with the saddest of smiles and kisses. At other times she would turn petulantly away and hide her face in her hands, or even push him off angrily, and then he took care to let her alone, for he was certain of doing no good. Gimmett and Chappell Bells were still ringing, and the full mellow flow of the beck in the valley came soothingly on the ear. It was a sweet substitute for the yet absent murmur of the summer foliage, which drowned that music about the grange when the trees were in leaf. At Wuthering Heights it always sounded on quiet days following a great thaw, or a season of steady rain. And of Wuthering Heights Catherine was thinking as she listened. That is, if she thought or listened at all. But she had the vague distant look I mentioned before, which expressed no recognition of material things either by ear or by eye.  You must read it immediately, because it wants an answer. Shall I break the seal? Yes, she answered, without altering the direction of her eyes. I opened it. It was very short. Now, I continued, read it. She drew away her hand and let it fall. I replaced it in her lap, and stood waiting till it should please her to glance down. But that movement was so long delayed that at last I resumed, must I read it, ma'am? It is from Mr. Heathcliff. There was a start and a troubled gleam of recollection, and a struggle to arrange her ideas. She lifted the letter and seemed to peruse it, and when she came to the signature she sighed. And yet I found she had not gathered its import, for upon my desiring to hear her reply, she merely pointed to the name, and gazed at me with mournful and questioning eagerness. Well, he wishes to see you, said I, guessing her need of an interpreter. He is in the garden by this time, and impatient to know what answer I shall bring. As I spoke, I observed a large dog lying on the sunny grass beneath, raised its ears as if about to bark, and then smoothing them back, announced by a wag of the tail, that someone approached whom it did not consider a stranger. Mrs. Linton bent forward and listened breathlessly. The minute after a step traversed the hall. The open house was too tempting for Heathcliff to resist walking in. Most likely he supposed that I was inclined to shirk my promise, and so resolved to trust to his own audacity. With straining eagerness Catherine gazed towards the entrance of her chamber. He did not hit the right room directly. She motioned me to admit him, but he found it error could reach the door, and in a stride or two was at her side, and had her grasped in his arms. He neither spoke, nor loosed his hold for some five minutes, during which period he bestowed more kisses than he ever gave in his life before, I daresay, but then my mistress had kissed him first, and I plainly saw that he could hardly bear for downright agony to look into her face. The same conviction had stricken him as me. From the instant he beheld her that there was no prospect of ultimate recovery there, she was fated, sure to die. Ah, Cathy, O my life, how can I bear it? was the first sentence he uttered, in a tone that did not seek to disguise his despair, and now he stared at her so earnestly that I thought the very intensity of his gaze would bring tears into his eyes, but they burned with anguish, they did not melt. What now, said Catherine, leaning back and returning his look with suddenly clouded brow, her hymn was a mere vein for constantly varying caprices. You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff, and you both come to bewail the deed to me, as if you were the people to be pitied. I shall not pity you, not I, you have killed me and thriven on it, I think. How strong you are, how many years do you mean to live after I am gone? Heathcliff had knelt on one knee to embrace her. He attempted to rise, but she seized his hair and kept him down. I wish I could hold you, she continued bitterly, till we were both dead, I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings, why shouldn't you suffer? I do. Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, that's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her, but it is past. I've loved many others since. My children are dearer to me than she was, and at death I shall not rejoice that I am going to her. I shall be sorry that I must leave them. Will you say so, Heathcliff? Don't torture me till I am as mad as yourself, cried he, wretching his head free and grinding his teeth. The two, to a cool spectator, made a strange and fearful picture. Well might Catherine deem that heaven would be the land of exile to her, unless with her mortal body she cast away her mortal character also. Her present countenance had a wild vindictiveness in its white cheek, and a bloodless lip and scintillating eye, and she retained in her closed fingers a portion of the locks she had been grasping. As to her companion, while raising himself with one hand, he had taken her arm with the other, and so inadequate was his stock of gentleness to the requirements of her condition, that on letting go I saw four distinct impressions left blue in the colourless skin.  Do you reflect that all those words will be branded in my memory, and eating deeper eternally after you have left me?  It is not sufficient for your infernal selfishness that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell. I shall not be at peace, moaned Catherine, recalled to a sense of physical weakness by the violent unequal throbbing of her heart, which beat visibly and audibly under this excessive agitation. She said nothing further till the paroxysm was over, and then she continued more kindly. I am not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted, and should a word of mine distress you hereafter, I think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake forgive me. Come here and kneel down again.  Weren't you come here again? Do. Heathcliff went to the back of her chair and leaned over, but not so far as to let her see his face, which was livid with emotion. She bent around to look at him. He would not permit it, turning abruptly. He walked to the fireplace where he stood, silent with his back towards us. Mrs. Linton's glance followed him suspiciously. Every moment woke a new sentiment in her. After a pause and a prolonged gaze, she resumed addressing me in accents of indignant disappointment. Oh, you see, nely, he would not relent her moment to keep me out of the grave. That is how I'm loved. Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet and take him with me. He's in my soul. And, added she amusingly, the thing that irks me most is this shattered prison, after all. I'm tired of being enclosed here. I'm wearying to escape into that glorious world and to be always there, not seeing it dimly through tears and yearning for it through walls of an aching heart, but really with it and in it. Nely, you think you're better and more fortunate than I, in full health and strength. You are sorry for me. Very soon that will be altered. I shall be sorry for you. I shall be incomparably beyond and above you all. I wonder he won't be near me. She went on to herself. I thought he wished it. Heathcliff, dear, you should not be sullen now. Do come to me, Heathcliff. In her eagerness, she rose and supported herself on the arm of the chair. At that earnest appeal, he turned to her, looking absolutely desperate. His eyes, wide and wet, at last flashed fiercely on her. His breast heaved convulsively. At an instant they held asunder, and then how they met I hardly saw. But Catherine made a spring, and he caught her, and they were locked in an embrace from which I thought my mistress would never be released alive. In fact, to my eyes, she seemed directly insensible. He flung himself into the nearest seat, and on my approaching hurriedly to ascertain if she had fainted, he gnashed at me and foamed like a mad dog, and gathered her to him with greedy jealousy. I did not feel as if I were in the company of a creature of my own species. It appeared that he would not understand, though I spoke to him, so I stood off and held my tongue with great perplexity. A movement of Catherine's relieved me a little presently.  Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me and cry, and ring out my kisses and tears. They'll blight you.  You loved me. Then what right had you to leave me?  Because misery and degradation and death and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us. You of your own will did it. I have not broken your heart. You have broken it. And in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you, oh God, would you like to live with your soul in the grave? Let me alone, let me alone, sobbed Catherine. If I've done wrong, I'm dying for it. It is enough. You left me too, but I won't abrade you. I forgive you. Forgive me. It is hard to forgive and look at those eyes and feel those wasted hands, he answered.  I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer, but yours? How can I? They were silent. Their faces hid against each other and washed by each other's tears. At least, I suppose the weeping was on both sides, as it seemed Heathcliff would weep on a great occasion like this. I grew very uncomfortable meanwhile for the afternoon wore fast away. The man whom I had sent off returned from his errand, and I could distinguish by the shine of the western sun up the valley, a concourse thickening outside Gimmerton Chapel porch. The service is over, I announced. My master will be here in half an hour. Heathcliff groaned a curse and strained Catherine closer. She never moved. E'er long I perceived a group of the servants passing up the road toward the kitchen wing. Mr. Linton was not far behind, and he opened the gate himself and sauntered slowly up, probably enjoying the lovely afternoon that breathed the softest summer. Now he is here, I exclaimed, for heaven's sake hurry down, you'll not meet anyone on the front stairs. Do be quick and stay among the trees till he is fairly in. I must go, Cathy, said Heathcliff, seeking to extricate himself from his companion's arms. But if I live I'll see you again before you are asleep. I won't stray five yards from your window. You must not go, she answered holding him as firmly as her strength allowed. You shall not, I tell you. For one hour, he pleaded earnestly. Not for one minute, she replied. I must, Linton will be up immediately, persisted the alarmed intruder. He would have risen and unfixed his fingers by the act. She clung fast, gasping. There was mad resolution in her face. No, she streaked. Don't go, it's the last time. Edgar will not hurt us, Heathcliff. I shall die. I shall die.  Hush, my darling, hush, hush, Catherine, I'll stay. If he shot me so, I'd expire with a blessing on my lips. And there they were fast again. I heard my master mounting the stairs. The cold sweat ran from my forehead. I was horrified. Are you going to listen to her ravings, I said passionately? She does not know what she says. Will you ruin her because she is not with to help herself?  You could be free instantly. That is the most diabolical deed that you ever did. We are all done for, master, mistress and servant. I wrung my hands and cried out, and Mr. Linton hastened his stepper, the noise. In the midst of my agitation I was sincerely glad to observe that Catherine's arms had fallen relaxed and her head hung down. She's fainted or dead, I thought, so much the better, for better that she should be dead than lingering a burden and misery maker to all about her. Edgar sprang to his unbidden guest, blanched with astonishment and rage. What he meant to do I cannot tell, however, the other stopped all demonstrations at once by placing the lifeless looking form in his arms. Look there, he said, unless you be a fiend, help her first and then you shall speak to me. He walked into the parlour and sat down. Mr. Linton summoned me and with great difficulty and after resorting to many means we managed to restore her to her sensation. But she was all bewildered she sighed and moaned and knew nobody. Edgar, in his anxiety for her, forgot her hated friend. I did not. I went at the earliest opportunity and besought him to depart, affirming that Catherine was better and he should hear from me in the morning how she passed the night. I shall not refuse to go out of doors, he answered, but I shall stay in the garden and nelly, mind you keep your word tomorrow I shall be under those large trees, mind, or I pay another visit whether Linton be in or not. He sent a rapid glance through the half open door of the chamber and ascertaining that what I stated was apparently true, delivered the house of his luckless presence. End of Chapter 15 .