The evening after the funeral, my young lady and I were seated in the library;
now musing mournfully--one of us despairingly--on our loss, now venturing
conjectures as to the gloomy future.
We had just agreed the best destiny which could await Catherine,
would be a permission to continue resident at the Grange; at least, during
Linton's life: he being allowed to join her there, and I to remain as housekeeper.
That seemed rather too favourable an arrangement to be hoped for: and yet
I did hope, and began to cheer up under the prospect of retaining my home
and my employment, and, above all, my beloved young mistress; when a servant--one
of the discarded ones, not yet departed--rushed hastily in, and said `that
devil Heathcliff' was coming through the court: should he fasten the door
in his face?
If we had been mad enough to order that proceeding, we had not
time. He made no ceremony of knocking or announcing his name: he was master,
and availed himself of the master's privilege to walk straight in, without
saying a word. The sound of our informant's voice directed him to the library:
he entered, and motioning him out, shut the door.
It was the same room into which he had been ushered, as a guest,
eighteen years before: the same moon shone through the window; and the
same autumn landscape lay outside. We had not yet lighted a candle, but
all the apartment was visible, even to the portraits on the wall: the splendid
head of Mrs Linton, and the graceful one of her husband. Heathcliff advanced
to the hearth. Time had little altered his person either. There was the
same man: his dark face rather sallower and more composed, his frame a
stone or two heavier, perhaps, and no other difference. Catherine had risen,
with an impulse to dash out, when she saw him.
`Stop!' he said, arresting her by the arm. `No more runnings away!
Where would you go? I'm come to fetch you home; and I hope you'll be a
dutiful daughter, and not encourage my son to further disobedience. I was
embarrassed how to punish him when I discovered his part in the business:
he's such a cobweb, a pinch would annihilate him; but you'll see by his
look that he has received his due! I brought him down one evening, the
day before yesterday, and just set him in a chair, and never touched him
afterwards. I sent Hareton out, and we had the room to ourselves. In two
hours, I called Joseph to carry him up again; and since then my presence
is as potent on his nerves as a ghost; and I fancy he sees me often, though
I am not near. Hareton says he wakes and shrieks in the night by the hour
together, and calls you to protect him from me; and, whether you like your
precious mate or not, you must come: he's your concern now; I yield all
my interest in him to you.
`Why not let Catherine continue here?' I pleaded, `and send Master
Linton to her. As you hate them both, you'd not miss them: they can
only be a daily plague to your unnatural heart.
`I'm seeking a tenant for the Grange,' he answered; `and I want
my children about me, to be sure. Besides, that lass owes me her services
for her bread. I'm not going to nurture her in luxury and idleness after
Linton has gone. Make haste and get ready, now; and don't oblige me to
compel you.'
`I shall,' said Catherine. `Linton is all I have to love in the
world, and though you have done what you could to make him hateful to me,
and me to him, you cannot make us hate each other. And I defy you
to hurt him when I am by, and I defy you to frighten me!'
You are a boastful champion,' replied Heathcliff; `but I don't
like you well enough to hurt him: you shall get the full benefit of the
torment, as long as it lasts. It is not I who will make him hateful to
you--it is his own sweet spirit. He's as bitter as gall at your desertion
and its consequences: don't expect thanks for this noble devotion. I heard
him draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do if he were as
strong as I: the inclination is there, and his very weakness will sharpen
his wits to find a substitute for strength.'
`I know he has a bad nature,' said Catherine: `he's your son.
But I'm glad I've a better, to forgive it; and I know he loves me, and
for that reason I love him. Mr Heathcliff, you have nobody to love
you; and, however miserable you make us, we shall still have the revenge
of thinking that your cruelty arises from your greater misery. You are
miserable, are you not? Lonely, like the devil, and envious like him? Nobody
loves you--nobody will cry for you when you die! I wouldn't be you!'
Catherine spoke with a kind of dreary triumph: she seemed to have
made up her mind to enter into the spirit of her future family, and draw
pleasure from the griefs of her enemies.
`You shall be sorry to be yourself presently', said her father-in-law,
`if you stand there another minute. Begone, witch, and get your things!'
She scornfully withdrew. In her absence, I began to beg for Zillah's
place at the Heights, offering to resign mine to her; but he would suffer
it on no account. He bid me be silent; and then, for the first time, allowed
himself a glance round the room and a look at the pictures. Having studied
Mrs Linton, he said:
`I shall have that home. Not because I need it, but--' He turned
abruptly to the fire, and continued, with what, for lack of a better word,
I must call a smile--`I'Il tell you what I did yesterday! I got the sexton,
who was digging Linton's grave, to remove the earth off her coffin-lid,
and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there: when I saw
her face again--it.is hers yet!--he had ~ hard work to stir me; but he
said it would change if the air blew on it, and so I struck one side of
the coffin loose, and covered it up: not Linton's side, damn him! I wish
he'd been soldered in lead. And I bribed the sexton to pull it away when
I'm laid there, and slide mine out too; I'll have it made so: and then,
by the time Linton gets to us he'll not know which is which!'
`You were very wicked, Mr Heathcliff!' I exclaimed, `were you
not ashamed to disturb the dead?'
`I disturbed nobody, Nelly,' he replied; `and I gave some ease
to myself. I shall be a great deal more comfortable now; and you'll have
a better chance of keeping me underground, when I get there. Disturbed
her? No! she has disturbed me, night and day, through eighteen years--incessantly--remorselessly--till
yesternight; and yesternight I was tranquil. I dreamt I was sleeping the
last sleep by that sleeper, with my heart stopped and my cheek frozen against
hers.'
`And if she had been dissolved into earth, or worse, what would
you have dreamt of then?' I said.
`Of dissolving with her, and being more happy still!' he answered.
`Do you suppose I dread any change of that sort? I expected such a transformation
on raising the lid: but I'm better pleased that it should not commence
till I share it. Besides, unless I had received a distinct impression of
her passionless features, that strange feeling would hardly have been removed.
It began oddly. You know I was wild after she died; and eternally, from
dawn to dawn, praying her to return to me her spirit! I have a strong faith
in ghosts: I have a conviction that they can, and do, exist among us! The
day she was buried there came a fall of snow. In the evening I went to
the churchyard. It blew bleak as winter--all round was solitary. I didn't
fear that her fool of a husband would wander up the den so late; and no
one else had business to bring them there. Being alone, and conscious two
yards of loose earth was the sole barrier between us, I said to myself--"I'll
have her in my arms again! If she be cold, I'll think it is this north
wind that chills me; and if she be motionless, it is sleep." I got
a spade from the toolhouse, and began to delve with all my might--it scraped
the coffin; I fell to work with my hands; the wood commenced cracking about
the screws; I was on the point of attaining my object, when it seemed that
I heard a sigh from someone above, close at the edge of the grave, and
bending down. "If I can only get this off," I muttered, "I wish they may
shovel in the earth over us both!" and I wrenched at it more desperately
still. There was another sigh, close at my ear. I appeared to feel the
warm breath of it displacing the sleet-laden wind. I knew no living thing
in flesh and blood was by; but, as certainly as you perceive the approach
to some substantial body in the dark, though it cannot be discerned, so
certainly I felt that Cathy was there: not under me, but on the earth.
A sudden sense of relief flowed from my heart through every limb. I relinquished
my labour of agony, and turned consoled at once: unspeakably consoled.
Her presence was with me: it remained while I refilled the grave, and led
me home. You may laugh, if you will; but I was sure I should see her there.
I was sure she was with me, and I could not help talking to her. Having
reached the Heights, I rushed eagerly to the door. It was fastened; and,
I remember, that accursed Earnshaw and my wife opposed my entrance. I remember
stopping to kick the breath out of him, and then hurrying upstairs, to
my room and hers. I looked round impatiently--I felt her by me--I could
almost see her, and yet I could not! I ought to have sweat
blood then, from the anguish of my yearning--from the fervour of my supplications
to have but one glimpse! I had not one. She showed herself, as she often
was in life, a devil to me! And, since then, sometimes more and sometimes
less, I've been the sport of that intolerable torture! Infernal! keeping
my nerves at such a stretch, that, if they had not resembled catgut, they
would long ago have relaxed to the feebleness of Linton's. When I sat in
the house with Hareton, it seemed that on going out, I should meet her;
when I walked on the moors I should meet her coming in. When I went from
home, I hastened to return: she must be somewhere at the Heights,
I was certain! And when I slept in her chamber--I was beaten out of that.
I couldn't lie there; for the moment I closed my eyes, she was either outside
the window, or sliding back the panels, or entering the room, or even resting
her darling head on the same pillow as she did when a child; and I must
open my lids to see. And so I opened and closed them a hundred times a
night--to be always disappointed! It racked me! I've often groaned aloud,
till that old rascal Joseph no doubt believed that my conscience was playing
the fiend inside of me. Now, since I've seen her, I'm pacified--a little.
It ~s a strange way of killing! not by inches, but by fractions and hairbreadths,
to beguile me with the spectre of a hope, through eighteen years!'
Mr Heathcliff paused and wiped his forehead; his hair clung to
it, wet with perspiration; his eyes were fixed on the red embers of the
fire, the brows not contracted, but raised next the temples; diminishing
the grim aspect of his countenance, but imparting a peculiar look of trouble,
and a painful appearance of mental tension towards one absorbing subject.
He only half addressed me, and I maintained silence. I didn't like to hear
him talk! After a short period he resumed his meditation on the picture,
took it down and leant it against the sofa to contemplate it at better
advantage; and while so occupied Catherine entered, announcing that she
was ready, when her pony should be saddled.
`Send that over tomorrow,' said Heathcliff to me; then turning
to her, he added--`You may do without your pony: it is a fine evening,
and you'll need no ponies at Wuthering Heights; for what journeys you take,
your own feet will serve you. Come along.'
`Goodbye, Ellen!' whispered my dear little mistress. As she kissed
me, her lips felt like ice. `Come and see me, Ellen; don't forget.'
`Take care you do no such thing, Mrs Dean!' said her new father.
`When I wish to speak to you I'll come here. I want none of your prying
at my house!'
He signed her to precede him; and casting back a look that cut
my heart, she obeyed. I watched them from the window, walk down the garden.
Heathcliff fixed Catherine's arm under his: though she disputed the act
at first evidently; and with rapid strides he hurried her into the alley,
whose trees concealed them.
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