by Emily Brontë
CHAPTER XXIII
The rainy night had ushered in a misty morning--half frost, halfdrizzle--and temporary brooks crossed our path--gurgling from theuplands. My feet were thoroughly wetted; I was cross and low; exactlythe humour suited for making the most of these disagreeable things. Weentered the farm-house by the kitchen way, to ascertain whether Mr.Heathcliff were really absent: because I put slight faith in his ownaffirmation.
Joseph seemed sitting in a sort of elysium alone, beside a roaring fire;a quart of ale on the table near him, bristling with large pieces oftoasted oat-cake; and his black, short pipe in his mouth. Catherine ranto the hearth to warm herself. I asked if the master was in? Myquestion remained so long unanswered, that I thought the old man hadgrown deaf, and repeated it louder.
'Na--ay!' he snarled, or rather screamed through his nose. 'Na--ay! yahmuh goa back whear yah coom frough.'
'Joseph!' cried a peevish voice, simultaneously with me, from the innerroom. 'How often am I to call you? There are only a few red ashes now.Joseph! come this moment.'
Vigorous puffs, and a resolute stare into the grate, declared he had noear for this appeal. The housekeeper and Hareton were invisible; onegone on an errand, and the other at his work, probably. We knew Linton'stones, and entered.
'Oh, I hope you'll die in a garret, starved to death!' said the boy,mistaking our approach for that of his negligent attendant.
He stopped on observing his error: his cousin flew to him.
'Is that you, Miss Linton?' he said, raising his head from the arm of thegreat chair, in which he reclined. 'No--don't kiss me: it takes mybreath. Dear me! Papa said you would call,' continued he, afterrecovering a little from Catherine's embrace; while she stood by lookingvery contrite. 'Will you shut the door, if you please? you left it open;and those--those _detestable_ creatures won't bring coals to the fire.It's so cold!'
I stirred up the cinders, and fetched a scuttleful myself. The invalidcomplained of being covered with ashes; but he had a tiresome cough, andlooked feverish and ill, so I did not rebuke his temper.
'Well, Linton,' murmured Catherine, when his corrugated brow relaxed,'are you glad to see me? Can I do you any good?'
'Why didn't you come before?' he asked. 'You should have come, insteadof writing. It tired me dreadfully writing those long letters. I'd farrather have talked to you. Now, I can neither bear to talk, nor anythingelse. I wonder where Zillah is! Will you' (looking at me) 'step intothe kitchen and see?'
I had received no thanks for my other service; and being unwilling to runto and fro at his behest, I replied--'Nobody is out there but Joseph.'
'I want to drink,' he exclaimed fretfully, turning away. 'Zillah isconstantly gadding off to Gimmerton since papa went: it's miserable! AndI'm obliged to come down here--they resolved never to hear me up-stairs.'
'Is your father attentive to you, Master Heathcliff?' I asked, perceivingCatherine to be checked in her friendly advances.
'Attentive? He makes them a little more attentive at least,' he cried.'The wretches! Do you know, Miss Linton, that brute Hareton laughs atme! I hate him! indeed, I hate them all: they are odious beings.'
Cathy began searching for some water; she lighted on a pitcher in thedresser, filled a tumbler, and brought it. He bid her add a spoonful ofwine from a bottle on the table; and having swallowed a small portion,appeared more tranquil, and said she was very kind.
'And are you glad to see me?' asked she, reiterating her former questionand pleased to detect the faint dawn of a smile.
'Yes, I am. It's something new to hear a voice like yours!' he replied.'But I have been vexed, because you wouldn't come. And papa swore it wasowing to me: he called me a pitiful, shuffling, worthless thing; and saidyou despised me; and if he had been in my place, he would be more themaster of the Grange than your father by this time. But you don'tdespise me, do you, Miss--?'
'I wish you would say Catherine, or Cathy,' interrupted my young lady.'Despise you? No! Next to papa and Ellen, I love you better thananybody living. I don't love Mr. Heathcliff, though; and I dare not comewhen he returns: will he stay away many days?'
'Not many,' answered Linton; 'but he goes on to the moors frequently,since the shooting season commenced; and you might spend an hour or twowith me in his absence. Do say you will. I think I should not bepeevish with you: you'd not provoke me, and you'd always be ready to helpme, wouldn't you?'
'Yes,' said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair: 'if I could only getpapa's consent, I'd spend half my time with you. Pretty Linton! I wishyou were my brother.'
'And then you would like me as well as your father?' observed he, morecheerfully. 'But papa says you would love me better than him and all theworld, if you were my wife; so I'd rather you were that.'
'No, I should never love anybody better than papa,' she returned gravely.'And people hate their wives, sometimes; but not their sisters andbrothers: and if you were the latter, you would live with us, and papawould be as fond of you as he is of me.'
Linton denied that people ever hated their wives; but Cathy affirmed theydid, and, in her wisdom, instanced his own father's aversion to her aunt.I endeavoured to stop her thoughtless tongue. I couldn't succeed tilleverything she knew was out. Master Heathcliff, much irritated, assertedher relation was false.
'Papa told me; and papa does not tell falsehoods,' she answered pertly.
'_My_ papa scorns yours!' cried Linton. 'He calls him a sneaking fool.'
'Yours is a wicked man,' retorted Catherine; 'and you are very naughty todare to repeat what he says. He must be wicked to have made AuntIsabella leave him as she did.'
'She didn't leave him,' said the boy; 'you sha'n't contradict me.'
'She did,' cried my young lady.
'Well, I'll tell you something!' said Linton. 'Your mother hated yourfather: now then.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Catherine, too enraged to continue.
'And she loved mine,' added he.
'You little liar! I hate you now!' she panted, and her face grew redwith passion.
'She did! she did!' sang Linton, sinking into the recess of his chair,and leaning back his head to enjoy the agitation of the other disputant,who stood behind.
'Hush, Master Heathcliff!' I said; 'that's your father's tale, too, Isuppose.'
'It isn't: you hold your tongue!' he answered. 'She did, she did,Catherine! she did, she did!'
Cathy, beside herself, gave the chair a violent push, and caused him tofall against one arm. He was immediately seized by a suffocating coughthat soon ended his triumph. It lasted so long that it frightened evenme. As to his cousin, she wept with all her might, aghast at themischief she had done: though she said nothing. I held him till the fitexhausted itself. Then he thrust me away, and leant his head downsilently. Catherine quelled her lamentations also, took a seat opposite,and looked solemnly into the fire.
'How do you feel now, Master Heathcliff?' I inquired, after waiting tenminutes.
'I wish _she_ felt as I do,' he replied: 'spiteful, cruel thing! Haretonnever touches me: he never struck me in his life. And I was betterto-day: and there--' his voice died in a whimper.
'_I_ didn't strike you!' muttered Cathy, chewing her lip to preventanother burst of emotion.
He sighed and moaned like one under great suffering, and kept it up for aquarter of an hour; on purpose to distress his cousin apparently, forwhenever he caught a stifled sob from her he put renewed pain and pathosinto the inflexions of his voice.
'I'm sorry I hurt you, Linton,' she said at length, racked beyondendurance. 'But I couldn't have been hurt by that little push, and I hadno idea that you could, either: you're not much, are you, Linton? Don'tlet me go home thinking I've done you harm. Answer! speak to me.'
'I can't speak to you,' he murmured; 'you've hurt me so that I shall lieawake all night choking with this cough. If you had it you'd know whatit was; but _you'll_ be comfortably asleep while I'm in agony, and nobodynear me. I wonder
how you would like to pass those fearful nights!' Andhe began to wail aloud, for very pity of himself.
'Since you are in the habit of passing dreadful nights,' I said, 'itwon't be Miss who spoils your ease: you'd be the same had she never come.However, she shall not disturb you again; and perhaps you'll get quieterwhen we leave you.'
'Must I go?' asked Catherine dolefully, bending over him. 'Do you wantme to go, Linton?'
'You can't alter what you've done,' he replied pettishly, shrinking fromher, 'unless you alter it for the worse by teasing me into a fever.'
'Well, then, I must go?' she repeated.
'Let me alone, at least,' said he; 'I can't bear your talking.'
She lingered, and resisted my persuasions to departure a tiresome while;but as he neither looked up nor spoke, she finally made a movement to thedoor, and I followed. We were recalled by a scream. Linton had slidfrom his seat on to the hearthstone, and lay writhing in the mereperverseness of an indulged plague of a child, determined to be asgrievous and harassing as it can. I thoroughly gauged his dispositionfrom his behaviour, and saw at once it would be folly to attempthumouring him. Not so my companion: she ran back in terror, knelt down,and cried, and soothed, and entreated, till he grew quiet from lack ofbreath: by no means from compunction at distressing her.
'I shall lift him on to the settle,' I said, 'and he may roll about as hepleases: we can't stop to watch him. I hope you are satisfied, MissCathy, that you are not the person to benefit him; and that his conditionof health is not occasioned by attachment to you. Now, then, there heis! Come away: as soon as he knows there is nobody by to care for hisnonsense, he'll be glad to lie still.'
She placed a cushion under his head, and offered him some water; herejected the latter, and tossed uneasily on the former, as if it were astone or a block of wood. She tried to put it more comfortably.
'I can't do with that,' he said; 'it's not high enough.'
Catherine brought another to lay above it.
'That's too high,' murmured the provoking thing.
'How must I arrange it, then?' she asked despairingly.
He twined himself up to her, as she half knelt by the settle, andconverted her shoulder into a support.
'No, that won't do,' I said. 'You'll be content with the cushion, MasterHeathcliff. Miss has wasted too much time on you already: we cannotremain five minutes longer.'
'Yes, yes, we can!' replied Cathy. 'He's good and patient now. He'sbeginning to think I shall have far greater misery than he will to-night,if I believe he is the worse for my visit: and then I dare not comeagain. Tell the truth about it, Linton; for I musn't come, if I havehurt you.'
'You must come, to cure me,' he answered. 'You ought to come, becauseyou have hurt me: you know you have extremely! I was not as ill when youentered as I am at present--was I?'
'But you've made yourself ill by crying and being in a passion.--I didn'tdo it all,' said his cousin. 'However, we'll be friends now. And youwant me: you would wish to see me sometimes, really?'
'I told you I did,' he replied impatiently. 'Sit on the settle and letme lean on your knee. That's as mamma used to do, whole afternoonstogether. Sit quite still and don't talk: but you may sing a song, ifyou can sing; or you may say a nice long interesting ballad--one of thoseyou promised to teach me; or a story. I'd rather have a ballad, though:begin.'
Catherine repeated the longest she could remember. The employmentpleased both mightily. Linton would have another, and after thatanother, notwithstanding my strenuous objections; and so they went onuntil the clock struck twelve, and we heard Hareton in the court,returning for his dinner.
'And to-morrow, Catherine, will you be here to-morrow?' asked youngHeathcliff, holding her frock as she rose reluctantly.
'No,' I answered, 'nor next day neither.' She, however, gave a differentresponse evidently, for his forehead cleared as she stooped and whisperedin his ear.
'You won't go to-morrow, recollect, Miss!' I commenced, when we were outof the house. 'You are not dreaming of it, are you?'
She smiled.
'Oh, I'll take good care,' I continued: 'I'll have that lock mended, andyou can escape by no way else.'
'I can get over the wall,' she said laughing. 'The Grange is not aprison, Ellen, and you are not my gaoler. And besides, I'm almostseventeen: I'm a woman. And I'm certain Linton would recover quickly ifhe had me to look after him. I'm older than he is, you know, and wiser:less childish, am I not? And he'll soon do as I direct him, with someslight coaxing. He's a pretty little darling when he's good. I'd makesuch a pet of him, if he were mine. We should never quarrel, should weafter we were used to each other? Don't you like him, Ellen?'
'Like him!' I exclaimed. 'The worst-tempered bit of a sickly slip thatever struggled into its teens. Happily, as Mr. Heathcliff conjectured,he'll not win twenty. I doubt whether he'll see spring, indeed. Andsmall loss to his family whenever he drops off. And lucky it is for usthat his father took him: the kinder he was treated, the more tedious andselfish he'd be. I'm glad you have no chance of having him for ahusband, Miss Catherine.'
My companion waxed serious at hearing this speech. To speak of his deathso regardlessly wounded her feelings.
'He's younger than I,' she answered, after a protracted pause ofmeditation, 'and he ought to live the longest: he will--he must live aslong as I do. He's as strong now as when he first came into the north;I'm positive of that. It's only a cold that ails him, the same as papahas. You say papa will get better, and why shouldn't he?'
'Well, well,' I cried, 'after all, we needn't trouble ourselves; forlisten, Miss,--and mind, I'll keep my word,--if you attempt going toWuthering Heights again, with or without me, I shall inform Mr. Linton,and, unless he allow it, the intimacy with your cousin must not berevived.'
'It has been revived,' muttered Cathy, sulkily.
'Must not be continued, then,' I said.
'We'll see,' was her reply, and she set off at a gallop, leaving me totoil in the rear.
We both reached home before our dinner-time; my master supposed we hadbeen wandering through the park, and therefore he demanded no explanationof our absence. As soon as I entered I hastened to change my soakedshoes and stockings; but sitting such awhile at the Heights had done themischief. On the succeeding morning I was laid up, and during threeweeks I remained incapacitated for attending to my duties: a calamitynever experienced prior to that period, and never, I am thankful to say,since.
My little mistress behaved like an angel in coming to wait on me, andcheer my solitude; the confinement brought me exceedingly low. It iswearisome, to a stirring active body: but few have slighter reasons forcomplaint than I had. The moment Catherine left Mr. Linton's room sheappeared at my bedside. Her day was divided between us; no amusementusurped a minute: she neglected her meals, her studies, and her play; andshe was the fondest nurse that ever watched. She must have had a warmheart, when she loved her father so, to give so much to me. I said herdays were divided between us; but the master retired early, and Igenerally needed nothing after six o'clock, thus the evening was her own.Poor thing! I never considered what she did with herself after tea. Andthough frequently, when she looked in to bid me good-night, I remarked afresh colour in her cheeks and a pinkness over her slender fingers,instead of fancying the line borrowed from a cold ride across the moors,I laid it to the charge of a hot fire in the library.