第 三十三 章 · 第33章

On the morrow of that Monday, Earnshaw being still unable to follow his

ordinary employments, and therefore remaining about the house, I

speedily found it would be impracticable to retain my charge beside me,

as heretofore. She got downstairs before me, and out into the garden,

where she had seen her cousin performing some easy work; and when I

went to bid them come to breakfast, I saw she had persuaded him to

clear a large space of ground from currant and gooseberry bushes, and

they were busy planning together an importation of plants from the

Grange.

I was terrified at the devastation which had been accomplished in a

brief half-hour; the black-currant trees were the apple of Joseph’s

eye, and she had just fixed her choice of a flower-bed in the midst of

them.

“There! That will be all shown to the master,” I exclaimed, “the minute

it is discovered. And what excuse have you to offer for taking such

liberties with the garden? We shall have a fine explosion on the head

of it: see if we don’t! Mr. Hareton, I wonder you should have no more

wit than to go and make that mess at her bidding!”

“I’d forgotten they were Joseph’s,” answered Earnshaw, rather puzzled;

“but I’ll tell him I did it.”

We always ate our meals with Mr. Heathcliff. I held the mistress’s post

in making tea and carving; so I was indispensable at table. Catherine

usually sat by me, but to-day she stole nearer to Hareton; and I

presently saw she would have no more discretion in her friendship than

she had in her hostility.

“Now, mind you don’t talk with and notice your cousin too much,” were

my whispered instructions as we entered the room. “It will certainly

annoy Mr. Heathcliff, and he’ll be mad at you both.”

“I’m not going to,” she answered.

The minute after, she had sidled to him, and was sticking primroses in

his plate of porridge.

He dared not speak to her there: he dared hardly look; and yet she went

on teasing, till he was twice on the point of being provoked to laugh.

I frowned, and then she glanced towards the master: whose mind was

occupied on other subjects than his company, as his countenance

evinced; and she grew serious for an instant, scrutinizing him with

deep gravity. Afterwards she turned, and recommenced her nonsense; at

last, Hareton uttered a smothered laugh. Mr. Heathcliff started; his

eye rapidly surveyed our faces. Catherine met it with her accustomed

look of nervousness and yet defiance, which he abhorred.

“It is well you are out of my reach,” he exclaimed. “What fiend

possesses you to stare back at me, continually, with those infernal

eyes? Down with them! and don’t remind me of your existence again. I

thought I had cured you of laughing.”

“It was me,” muttered Hareton.

“What do you say?” demanded the master.

Hareton looked at his plate, and did not repeat the confession. Mr.

Heathcliff looked at him a bit, and then silently resumed his breakfast

and his interrupted musing. We had nearly finished, and the two young

people prudently shifted wider asunder, so I anticipated no further

disturbance during that sitting: when Joseph appeared at the door,

revealing by his quivering lip and furious eyes that the outrage

committed on his precious shrubs was detected. He must have seen Cathy

and her cousin about the spot before he examined it, for while his jaws

worked like those of a cow chewing its cud, and rendered his speech

difficult to understand, he began:—

“I mun hev’ my wage, and I mun goa! I _hed_ aimed to dee wheare I’d

sarved fur sixty year; and I thowt I’d lug my books up into t’ garret,

and all my bits o’ stuff, and they sud hev’ t’ kitchen to theirseln;

for t’ sake o’ quietness. It wur hard to gie up my awn hearthstun, but

I thowt I _could_ do that! But nah, shoo’s taan my garden fro’ me, and

by th’ heart, maister, I cannot stand it! Yah may bend to th’ yoak an

ye will—I noan used to ’t, and an old man doesn’t sooin get used to new

barthens. I’d rayther arn my bite an’ my sup wi’ a hammer in th’ road!”

“Now, now, idiot!” interrupted Heathcliff, “cut it short! What’s your

grievance? I’ll interfere in no quarrels between you and Nelly. She may

thrust you into the coal-hole for anything I care.”

“It’s noan Nelly!” answered Joseph. “I sudn’t shift for Nelly—nasty ill

nowt as shoo is. Thank God! _shoo_ cannot stale t’ sowl o’ nob’dy! Shoo

wer niver soa handsome, but what a body mud look at her ’bout winking.

It’s yon flaysome, graceless quean, that’s witched our lad, wi’ her

bold een and her forrard ways—till—Nay! it fair brusts my heart! He’s

forgotten all I’ve done for him, and made on him, and goan and riven up

a whole row o’ t’ grandest currant-trees i’ t’ garden!” and here he

lamented outright; unmanned by a sense of his bitter injuries, and

Earnshaw’s ingratitude and dangerous condition.

“Is the fool drunk?” asked Mr. Heathcliff. “Hareton, is it you he’s

finding fault with?”

“I’ve pulled up two or three bushes,” replied the young man; “but I’m

going to set ’em again.”

“And why have you pulled them up?” said the master.

Catherine wisely put in her tongue.

“We wanted to plant some flowers there,” she cried. “I’m the only

person to blame, for I wished him to do it.”

“And who the devil gave _you_ leave to touch a stick about the place?”

demanded her father-in-law, much surprised. “And who ordered _you_ to

obey her?” he added, turning to Hareton.

The latter was speechless; his cousin replied—“You shouldn’t grudge a

few yards of earth for me to ornament, when you have taken all my

land!”

“Your land, insolent slut! You never had any,” said Heathcliff.

“And my money,” she continued; returning his angry glare, and meantime

biting a piece of crust, the remnant of her breakfast.

“Silence!” he exclaimed. “Get done, and begone!”

“And Hareton’s land, and his money,” pursued the reckless thing.

“Hareton and I are friends now; and I shall tell him all about you!”

The master seemed confounded a moment: he grew pale, and rose up,

eyeing her all the while, with an expression of mortal hate.

“If you strike me, Hareton will strike you,” she said; “so you may as

well sit down.”

“If Hareton does not turn you out of the room, I’ll strike him to

hell,” thundered Heathcliff. “Damnable witch! dare you pretend to rouse

him against me? Off with her! Do you hear? Fling her into the kitchen!

I’ll kill her, Ellen Dean, if you let her come into my sight again!”

Hareton tried, under his breath, to persuade her to go.

“Drag her away!” he cried, savagely. “Are you staying to talk?” And he

approached to execute his own command.

“He’ll not obey you, wicked man, any more,” said Catherine; “and he’ll

soon detest you as much as I do.”

“Wisht! wisht!” muttered the young man, reproachfully; “I will not hear

you speak so to him. Have done.”

“But you won’t let him strike me?” she cried.

“Come, then,” he whispered earnestly.

It was too late: Heathcliff had caught hold of her.

“Now, _you_ go!” he said to Earnshaw. “Accursed witch! this time she

has provoked me when I could not bear it; and I’ll make her repent it

for ever!”

He had his hand in her hair; Hareton attempted to release her locks,

entreating him not to hurt her that once. Heathcliff’s black eyes

flashed; he seemed ready to tear Catherine in pieces, and I was just

worked up to risk coming to the rescue, when of a sudden his fingers

relaxed; he shifted his grasp from her head to her arm, and gazed

intently in her face. Then he drew his hand over his eyes, stood a

moment to collect himself apparently, and turning anew to Catherine,

said, with assumed calmness—“You must learn to avoid putting me in a

passion, or I shall really murder you some time! Go with Mrs. Dean, and

keep with her; and confine your insolence to her ears. As to Hareton

Earnshaw, if I see him listen to you, I’ll send him seeking his bread

where he can get it! Your love will make him an outcast and a beggar.

Nelly, take her; and leave me, all of you! Leave me!”

I led my young lady out: she was too glad of her escape to resist; the

other followed, and Mr. Heathcliff had the room to himself till dinner.

I had counselled Catherine to dine upstairs; but, as soon as he

perceived her vacant seat, he sent me to call her. He spoke to none of

us, ate very little, and went out directly afterwards, intimating that

he should not return before evening.

The two new friends established themselves in the house during his

absence; where I heard Hareton sternly check his cousin, on her

offering a revelation of her father-in-law’s conduct to his father. He

said he wouldn’t suffer a word to be uttered in his disparagement: if

he were the devil, it didn’t signify; he would stand by him; and he’d

rather she would abuse himself, as she used to, than begin on Mr.

Heathcliff. Catherine was waxing cross at this; but he found means to

make her hold her tongue, by asking how she would like _him_ to speak

ill of her father? Then she comprehended that Earnshaw took the

master’s reputation home to himself; and was attached by ties stronger

than reason could break—chains, forged by habit, which it would be

cruel to attempt to loosen. She showed a good heart, thenceforth, in

avoiding both complaints and expressions of antipathy concerning

Heathcliff; and confessed to me her sorrow that she had endeavoured to

raise a bad spirit between him and Hareton: indeed, I don’t believe she

has ever breathed a syllable, in the latter’s hearing, against her

oppressor since.

When this slight disagreement was over, they were friends again, and as

busy as possible in their several occupations of pupil and teacher. I

came in to sit with them, after I had done my work; and I felt so

soothed and comforted to watch them, that I did not notice how time got

on. You know, they both appeared in a measure my children: I had long

been proud of one; and now, I was sure, the other would be a source of

equal satisfaction. His honest, warm, and intelligent nature shook off

rapidly the clouds of ignorance and degradation in which it had been

bred; and Catherine’s sincere commendations acted as a spur to his

industry. His brightening mind brightened his features, and added

spirit and nobility to their aspect: I could hardly fancy it the same

individual I had beheld on the day I discovered my little lady at

Wuthering Heights, after her expedition to the Crags. While I admired

and they laboured, dusk drew on, and with it returned the master. He

came upon us quite unexpectedly, entering by the front way, and had a

full view of the whole three, ere we could raise our heads to glance at

him. Well, I reflected, there was never a pleasanter, or more harmless

sight; and it will be a burning shame to scold them. The red fire-light

glowed on their two bonny heads, and revealed their faces animated with

the eager interest of children; for, though he was twenty-three and she

eighteen, each had so much of novelty to feel and learn, that neither

experienced nor evinced the sentiments of sober disenchanted maturity.

They lifted their eyes together, to encounter Mr. Heathcliff: perhaps

you have never remarked that their eyes are precisely similar, and they

are those of Catherine Earnshaw. The present Catherine has no other

likeness to her, except a breadth of forehead, and a certain arch of

the nostril that makes her appear rather haughty, whether she will or

not. With Hareton the resemblance is carried farther: it is singular at

all times, _then_ it was particularly striking; because his senses were

alert, and his mental faculties wakened to unwonted activity. I suppose

this resemblance disarmed Mr. Heathcliff: he walked to the hearth in

evident agitation; but it quickly subsided as he looked at the young

man: or, I should say, altered its character; for it was there yet. He

took the book from his hand, and glanced at the open page, then

returned it without any observation; merely signing Catherine away: her

companion lingered very little behind her, and I was about to depart

also, but he bid me sit still.

“It is a poor conclusion, is it not?” he observed, having brooded

a while on the scene he had just witnessed: “an absurd termination to

my violent exertions? I get levers and mattocks to demolish the two

houses, and train myself to be capable of working like Hercules, and

when everything is ready and in my power, I find the will to lift a

slate off either roof has vanished! My old enemies have not beaten me;

now would be the precise time to revenge myself on their

representatives: I could do it; and none could hinder me. But where is

the use? I don’t care for striking: I can’t take the trouble to raise

my hand! That sounds as if I had been labouring the whole time only to

exhibit a fine trait of magnanimity. It is far from being the case: I

have lost the faculty of enjoying their destruction, and I am too idle

to destroy for nothing.

“Nelly, there is a strange change approaching; I’m in its shadow at

present. I take so little interest in my daily life that I hardly

remember to eat and drink. Those two who have left the room are the

only objects which retain a distinct material appearance to me; and

that appearance causes me pain, amounting to agony. About _her_ I won’t

speak; and I don’t desire to think; but I earnestly wish she were

invisible: her presence invokes only maddening sensations. _He_ moves

me differently: and yet if I could do it without seeming insane, I’d

never see him again! You’ll perhaps think me rather inclined to become

so,” he added, making an effort to smile, “if I try to describe the

thousand forms of past associations and ideas he awakens or embodies.

But you’ll not talk of what I tell you; and my mind is so eternally

secluded in itself, it is tempting at last to turn it out to another.

“Five minutes ago Hareton seemed a personification of my youth, not a

human being; I felt to him in such a variety of ways, that it would

have been impossible to have accosted him rationally. In the first

place, his startling likeness to Catherine connected him fearfully with

her. That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my

imagination, is actually the least: for what is not connected with her

to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor,

but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every

tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object

by day—I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men

and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world

is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I

have lost her! Well, Hareton’s aspect was the ghost of my immortal

love; of my wild endeavours to hold my right; my degradation, my pride,

my happiness, and my anguish—

“But it is frenzy to repeat these thoughts to you: only it will let you

know why, with a reluctance to be always alone, his society is no

benefit; rather an aggravation of the constant torment I suffer: and it

partly contributes to render me regardless how he and his cousin go on

together. I can give them no attention any more.”

“But what do you mean by a _change_, Mr. Heathcliff?” I said, alarmed

at his manner: though he was neither in danger of losing his senses,

nor dying, according to my judgment: he was quite strong and healthy;

and, as to his reason, from childhood he had a delight in dwelling on

dark things, and entertaining odd fancies. He might have had a

monomania on the subject of his departed idol; but on every other point

his wits were as sound as mine.

“I shall not know that till it comes,” he said; “I’m only half

conscious of it now.”

“You have no feeling of illness, have you?” I asked.

“No, Nelly, I have not,” he answered.

“Then you are not afraid of death?” I pursued.

“Afraid? No!” he replied. “I have neither a fear, nor a presentiment,

nor a hope of death. Why should I? With my hard constitution and

temperate mode of living, and unperilous occupations, I ought to, and

probably _shall_, remain above ground till there is scarcely a black

hair on my head. And yet I cannot continue in this condition! I have to

remind myself to breathe—almost to remind my heart to beat! And it is

like bending back a stiff spring: it is by compulsion that I do the

slightest act not prompted by one thought; and by compulsion that I

notice anything alive or dead, which is not associated with one

universal idea. I have a single wish, and my whole being and faculties

are yearning to attain it. They have yearned towards it so long, and so

unwaveringly, that I’m convinced it _will_ be reached—and

_soon_—because it has devoured my existence: I am swallowed up in the

anticipation of its fulfilment. My confessions have not relieved me;

but they may account for some otherwise unaccountable phases of humour

which I show. O God! It is a long fight; I wish it were over!”

He began to pace the room, muttering terrible things to himself, till I

was inclined to believe, as he said Joseph did, that conscience had

turned his heart to an earthly hell. I wondered greatly how it would

end. Though he seldom before had revealed this state of mind, even by

looks, it was his habitual mood, I had no doubt: he asserted it

himself; but not a soul, from his general bearing, would have

conjectured the fact. You did not when you saw him, Mr. Lockwood: and

at the period of which I speak, he was just the same as then; only

fonder of continued solitude, and perhaps still more laconic in

company.