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 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 Sunday, and I
brought it into 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 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 the 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 sill before her, and the scarcely perceptible
wind fluttered its leaves at intervals. I believe Linton had laid it there:
for she never endeavoured 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 formerly 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.
Gimmerton chapel 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 eye.
`There's a letter for you, Mrs Linton,' I said, gently inserting
it in one hand that rested on her knee. `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: yet still 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's 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
raise its ears as if about to bark, and then smoothing them back, announce,
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 out ere I 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 ever he gave in his life before,
I dare say: 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.
`Oh, Cathy! Oh, 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 a suddenly clouded brow: her humour was a mere vane for constantly
varying caprices. `You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff! And
you both came 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, wrenching
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 a land of exile to her,
unless with her mortal body she cast away her moral 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 his letting go I saw four distinct impressions left blue in the
colourless skin.
`Are you possessed with a devil,' he pursued savagely, `to talk
in that manner to me when you are dying? Do you reflect that all those
words will be branded on my memory, and eating deeper eternally after you
have left me? You know you lie to say I have killed you: and, Catherine,
you know that I could as soon forget you as my existence! Is it 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 excess of agitation. She said nothing
further till the paroxysm was over; then she continued, more kindly--
`I'm 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, think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake,
forgive me! Come here and kneel down again! You never harmed me in your
life. Nay, if you nurse anger, that will be worse to remember than my harsh
words! Won't you come here again? Do!'
Heathcliff went to the back of her chair, and leant over, but
not so far as to let her see his face, which was livid with emotion. She
bent round 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 movement 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, Nelly, he would not relent a 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, musingly, `the thing that irks me most in
this shattered prison, after all. I'm tired, 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 the walls
of an aching heart; but really with it, and in it. Nelly, you think you
are 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. 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, in great perplexity.
A movement of Catherine's relieved me a little presently: she
put up her hand to clasp his neck, and bring her cheek to his as he held
her; while he, in return, covering her with frantic caresses, said wildly--
`You teach me now how cruel you've been--cruel and false. 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--they'll damn you. You loved me--then what right had
you to leave me? What right--answer me--for the poor fancy you felt for
Linton? 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 have done
wrong, I'm dying for it. It is enough! You left me too: but I won't upbraid
you! I forgive you. Forgive me!'
`It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those
wasted hands,' he answered. `Kiss me again; and don't let me see your eyes!
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 could 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 westering sun up the valley, a concourse
thickening outside Gimmerton chapel porch.
`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.
Ere long I perceived a group of the servants passing up the road
towards the kitchen wing. Mr Linton was not far behind; he opened the gate
himself and sauntered slowly up, probably enjoying the lovely afternoon
that breathed as soft as 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 her fingers by the act--she clung
fast, gasping: there was mad resolution in her face.
`No!' she shrieked. `Oh, don't, don't go. It is the last time!
Edgar will not hurt us. Heathcliff, I shall die! I shall die!'
`Damn the fool! There he is,' cried Heathcliff, sinking back into
his seat. `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 has not
wit to help herself? Get up! You could be free instantly. That is the most
diabolical deed that ever you did. We are all done for--master, mistress,
and servant.
I wrung my hands, and cried out; Mr Linton hastened his step at
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. Far better
that she should be dead, than lingering a burden and a 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--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 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 to morrow. I shall
be under those larch 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.
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