CHAPTER 11
I decided that it was my duty to warn Hindley how people talked regarding his bad habits; but I flinched from re-entering his dismal house.
One bright, frosty afternoon I passed it on the way to Gimmerton. When I came to a stone sign-post showing the path to the Heights, a gush of child’s sensations flowed into my heart. It had been a favourite spot for Hindley and I twenty years before. I gazed at the weather-worn block; and seemed to behold my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark, square head bent forward, and his little hand digging.
‘Poor Hindley!’ I exclaimed, involuntarily. The child lifted its face and stared straight into mine! It vanished in a twinkling; but immediately I felt a yearning to be at the Heights. Superstition urged me to go: supposing it were a sign of death!
As I got nearer to the house I trembled in every limb, for the apparition stood there again, looking through the gate, an elf-haired, brown-eyed boy pressing his face against the bars. Then I realised it was Hareton, my Hareton, not altered greatly since I left him, ten months since.
‘God bless thee, darling!’ I cried. ‘Hareton, it’s Nelly, thy nurse.’
He retreated, and picked up a large stone.
‘I am come to see thy father, Hareton,’ I added, guessing that he did not remember me.
He hurled his missile. It struck my bonnet; and then from the stammering lips of the little fellow came a string of curses, which grieved more than angered me. I took an orange from my pocket, and offered it to him.
‘Who has taught you those fine words, my child?’ I inquired. ‘The curate?’
‘Damn the curate, and thee! Gie 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 it higher. ‘What does he teach you?’ I asked.
‘Naught,’ said he, ‘but to keep out of his way. Daddy cannot bide me, because I swear at him.’
‘Ah! and the devil teaches you to swear at daddy?’ I observed.
‘Ay – nay,’ he drawled.
‘Who, then?’
‘Heathcliff.’
I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff.
‘Ay!’ he answered. ‘He curses daddy for cursing me. He says I can do as I will.’
‘And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then?’
‘No, Heathcliff said the curate should have his ___ teeth dashed down his ___ throat, if he came here!’
I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father that Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him. He entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared at the door; and I turned and ran down the road as hard as I could, not stopping till I reached the guide-post.
The next time Heathcliff came to the Grange, Isabella was feeding pigeons in the courtyard. On seeing her, he surveyed the house-front. I was standing by the kitchen-window, but I drew out of sight.
He then stepped across the pavement to her, and said something: she seemed embarrassed, and wanted to get away, but he laid his hand on her arm. She averted her face: he put some question; and then, after another rapid glance at the house, and supposing himself unseen, the scoundrel had the impudence to embrace her.
‘Judas! Deceiver!’ I cried.
‘Who, Nelly?’ said Catherine at my elbow.
‘Your worthless friend!’ I answered. ‘Ah, he has seen us – he is coming in! I wonder if he will try to find an excuse for making love to Miss, after he told you he hated her?’
We saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden. A minute later, Heathcliff opened the door. I began to express my indignation; but Catherine angrily threatened to send me out of the kitchen, if I did not hold my tongue.
‘One might think you were the mistress!’ she cried. ‘Heathcliff, what are you about? Let Isabella alone! – unless you wish Linton to lock the door against you!’
‘God forbid that he should try!’ answered the black villain. I detested him just then. ‘Every day I grow madder wanting to send him to heaven!’
‘Hush!’ said Catherine, shutting the door. ‘Don’t vex me. Why did you do it?’
‘What is it to you?’ he growled. ‘I have a right to kiss her, if she chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not your husband: you needn’t be jealous of me!’
‘I’m not jealous of you,’ replied the mistress; ‘I’m jealous for you. Don’t scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff! I’m certain you don’t.’
‘You have treated me infernally – infernally!’ said Heathcliff. ‘Do you hear? And if you think I don’t know it, you are a fool; and if you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot: and if you fancy I’ll suffer unrevenged, I’ll convince you of the contrary! Meantime, thank you for telling me Isabella’s secret: I’ll make the most of it. And stand you aside!’
‘What this?’ exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in amazement. ‘I’ve treated you infernally – how? And how will you take revenge, ungrateful brute?’
‘I seek no revenge on you,’ replied Heathcliff. ‘That’s not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves, but they in turn 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. If I imagined you really wished me to marry Isabella, I’d cut my throat!’
‘Oh, the evil is that I am not jealous, is it?’ cried Catherine. ‘Because you see Edgar and I at peace, secure and tranquil, you are resolved to start a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you’ll hit on exactly the most efficient method of revenging yourself on me.’
Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and gloomy. Heathcliff stood on the hearth with folded arms, brooding on his evil thoughts. I left them and went to the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine downstairs so long.
‘Ellen,’ said he, ‘have you seen your mistress?’
‘Yes; she’s in the kitchen, sir,’ I answered. ‘She’s sadly put out by Mr. Heathcliff’s behaviour: and, indeed, I think it’s time to stop his visits.’ And I related the scene in the courtyard. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me to the end.
‘This is insufferable!’ he exclaimed. ‘It is disgraceful that she should have him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two servants out of the hall, Ellen. I have humoured Catherine enough.’
He went to the kitchen. Mrs. Linton was scolding Heathcliff with renewed vigour; he had moved to the window, and hung his head. He saw the master first, and made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed, abruptly.
‘How is this?’ said Linton, addressing her; ‘how can you remain here, after the language which that blackguard has used? I suppose you are accustomed to his baseness!’
‘Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?’ asked the mistress, in a tone of carelessness and contempt. Heathcliff gave a sneering laugh; but Edgar remained calm.
‘I’ve been forbearing with you, sir,’ he said quietly; ‘because I felt you were only partly responsible for your degraded character; and since Catherine wished to keep up your acquaintance, I agreed – foolishly. Your presence is a moral poison; and I deny you admission into this house, and request your instant departure.’
Heathcliff surveyed him with derision.
‘Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull!’ he said. ‘It is in danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton, I’m sorry that you are not worth knocking down!’
My master signed me to fetch the servants. Mrs. Linton, however, pulled me back, slammed the door, and locked it.
‘Fair means!’ she said, in answer to her husband’s look of angry surprise. ‘If you have not courage to attack him, apologise, or allow yourself to be beaten. No, I’ll swallow the key befo
re you shall get it! I have indulged your weak nature, and Heathcliff’s bad one, and I earn for thanks blind, stupid ingratitude! Edgar, I was defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick, for daring to think an evil thought of me!’
Mr. Edgar tried to wrest the key from her grasp. She flung it into the fire; whereupon he was taken with a nervous trembling, and grew deadly pale. Anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on a chair, and covered his face.
‘Oh, heavens! We are vanquished!’ exclaimed Mrs. Linton. ‘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!’
‘I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!’ said Heathcliff. ‘That is the shivering thing you preferred to me! I’d like to kick him. Is he weeping, or is he going to faint with fear?’
He gave Linton’s chair a push. He had better have kept his distance: my master quickly sprang up, and struck him full on the throat a blow that would have levelled a slighter man. It took Heathcliff’s breath away, and while he choked, Mr. Linton walked out by the back door.
‘Get away now,’ cried Catherine. ‘He’ll return with a brace of pistols and half-a-dozen men. You’ve done me an ill turn, Heathcliff! But make haste! I’d rather see Edgar at bay than you.’
‘Do you suppose I’m going with that blow burning in my gullet?’ he thundered. ‘By hell, no! I’ll crush his ribs like a rotten hazel-nut! If I don’t floor him now, I shall murder him some time; so let me get at him!’
‘He is not coming,’ I interposed, although I was telling a lie. ‘There’s the coachman and the two gardeners, each with a bludgeon; and master will be watching from the parlour-windows to see them throw you out.’
The gardeners and coachman were there, but Linton was with them. Heathcliff, on second thoughts, resolved to avoid a struggle: he seized the poker, smashed the lock from the inner door, and made his escape as they tramped in.
Mrs. Linton excitedly bade me come with her upstairs. She did not know what I had told her husband, and I was anxious to keep her in ignorance.
‘I’m nearly distracted, Nelly!’ she exclaimed. ‘A thousand hammers are beating in my head! Tell Isabella to shun me; this uproar is owing to her. And, Nelly, say to Edgar that I’m in danger of being seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has distressed me shockingly! I want to frighten him. Will you do so, my good Nelly? I am no way to blame in this matter. If Edgar had not listened to our conversation, he would never have been the worse for it. Really, when he used that unreasonable tone after I had scolded Heathcliff for him, I did not care what they did to each other! Well, if I cannot have Heathcliff for a friend – if Edgar will be mean and jealous, I’ll break their hearts by breaking my own. That will show them! You must remind Edgar of my passionate temper. I wish you could look more anxious about me.’
The stolidity with which I received these instructions was, no doubt, rather exasperating: for she was perfectly sincere; but I believed a person who could plan her fits of passion might manage to control herself, and I did not wish to frighten her husband just to serve her selfishness. Therefore I said nothing when the master came to speak to her.
‘Remain where you are, Catherine,’ he said; without anger, but with much sorrow. ‘I shall not stay. I wish only to learn whether, after this evening’s events, you intend to continue your intimacy with—’
‘Oh, for mercy’s sake,’ interrupted the mistress, stamping her foot, ‘let us hear no more of it now! Your veins are full of ice-water; but mine are boiling, and the sight of your chillness makes them dance.’
‘Answer my question,’ persevered Mr. Linton. ‘Will you give up Heathcliff, or me? It is impossible for you to be my friend and his; and I 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? Leave me!’
She rang the bell till it broke with a twang; I entered leisurely. It was enough to try a saint, such senseless, wicked rages! She lay dashing her head against the arm of the sofa, and grinding her teeth, as if she would crash them to splinters!
Mr. Linton stood looking at her in sudden fear. He told me to fetch some water. I brought a glass full; and as she would not drink, I sprinkled it on her face. She stretched herself out stiff, and turned up her eyes like one dead. Linton looked terrified.
‘There is nothing the matter,’ I whispered.
‘She has blood on her lips!’ he said, shuddering.
‘Never mind!’ I answered, tartly. And I told him how she had resolved on exhibiting a fit of frenzy. She heard me; she started up with her eyes flashing, glared about her, and then rushed from the room. The master told me to follow; but she locked her chamber-door against me.
As she never came down to breakfast next morning, I went to ask whether she would have some carried up.
‘No!’ she replied. The same question was repeated at dinner and tea; and again on the day after, and received the same answer.
Mr. Linton spent his time in the library, and did not inquire about his wife. He spoke to Isabella about Heathcliff’s advances: but he could make nothing of her evasive replies, and was obliged to give her a solemn warning, that if she were so insane as to encourage that worthless suitor, he would disown her.
Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights: Abridged Page 12