Wuthering Heights

CHAPTER XVIII

The twelve years, continued Mrs. Dean, following that dismal period werethe happiest of my life: my greatest troubles in their passage rose fromour little lady's trifling illnesses, which she had to experience incommon with all children, rich and poor. For the rest, after the firstsix months, she grew like a larch, and could walk and talk too, in herown way, before the heath blossomed a second time over Mrs. Linton'sdust. She was the most winning thing that ever brought sunshine into adesolate house: a real beauty in face, with the Earnshaws' handsome darkeyes, but the Lintons' fair skin and small features, and yellow curlinghair. Her spirit was high, though not rough, and qualified by a heartsensitive and lively to excess in its affections. That capacity forintense attachments reminded me of her mother: still she did not resembleher: for she could be soft and mild as a dove, and she had a gentle voiceand pensive expression: her anger was never furious; her love neverfierce: it was deep and tender. However, it must be acknowledged, shehad faults to foil her gifts. A propensity to be saucy was one; and aperverse will, that indulged children invariably acquire, whether they begood tempered or cross. If a servant chanced to vex her, it wasalways--'I shall tell papa!' And if he reproved her, even by a look, youwould have thought it a heart-breaking business: I don't believe he everdid speak a harsh word to her. He took her education entirely onhimself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and a quickintellect made her an apt scholar: she learned rapidly and eagerly, anddid honour to his teaching.

Till she reached the age of thirteen she had not once been beyond therange of the park by herself. Mr. Linton would take her with him a mileor so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her to no one else.Gimmerton was an unsubstantial name in her ears; the chapel, the onlybuilding she had approached or entered, except her own home. WutheringHeights and Mr. Heathcliff did not exist for her: she was a perfectrecluse; and, apparently, perfectly contented. Sometimes, indeed, whilesurveying the country from her nursery window, she would observe--

'Ellen, how long will it be before I can walk to the top of those hills?I wonder what lies on the other side--is it the sea?'

'No, Miss Cathy,' I would answer; 'it is hills again, just like these.'

'And what are those golden rocks like when you stand under them?' sheonce asked.

The abrupt descent of Penistone Crags particularly attracted her notice;especially when the setting sun shone on it and the topmost heights, andthe whole extent of landscape besides lay in shadow. I explained thatthey were bare masses of stone, with hardly enough earth in their cleftsto nourish a stunted tree.

'And why are they bright so long after it is evening here?' she pursued.

'Because they are a great deal higher up than we are,' replied I; 'youcould not climb them, they are too high and steep. In winter the frostis always there before it comes to us; and deep into summer I have foundsnow under that black hollow on the north-east side!'

'Oh, you have been on them!' she cried gleefully. 'Then I can go, too,when I am a woman. Has papa been, Ellen?'

'Papa would tell you, Miss,' I answered, hastily, 'that they are notworth the trouble of visiting. The moors, where you ramble with him, aremuch nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest place in the world.'

'But I know the park, and I don't know those,' she murmured to herself.'And I should delight to look round me from the brow of that tallestpoint: my little pony Minny shall take me some time.'

One of the maids mentioning the Fairy Cave, quite turned her head with adesire to fulfil this project: she teased Mr. Linton about it; and hepromised she should have the journey when she got older. But MissCatherine measured her age by months, and, 'Now, am I old enough to go toPenistone Crags?' was the constant question in her mouth. The roadthither wound close by Wuthering Heights. Edgar had not the heart topass it; so she received as constantly the answer, 'Not yet, love: notyet.'

I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting herhusband. Her family were of a delicate constitution: she and Edgar bothlacked the ruddy health that you will generally meet in these parts. Whather last illness was, I am not certain: I conjecture, they died of thesame thing, a kind of fever, slow at its commencement, but incurable, andrapidly consuming life towards the close. She wrote to inform herbrother of the probable conclusion of a four-months' indisposition underwhich she had suffered, and entreated him to come to her, if possible;for she had much to settle, and she wished to bid him adieu, and deliverLinton safely into his hands. Her hope was that Linton might be leftwith him, as he had been with her: his father, she would fain convinceherself, had no desire to assume the burden of his maintenance oreducation. My master hesitated not a moment in complying with herrequest: reluctant as he was to leave home at ordinary calls, he flew toanswer this; commanding Catherine to my peculiar vigilance, in hisabsence, with reiterated orders that she must not wander out of the park,even under my escort he did not calculate on her going unaccompanied.

He was away three weeks. The first day or two my charge sat in a cornerof the library, too sad for either reading or playing: in that quietstate she caused me little trouble; but it was succeeded by an intervalof impatient, fretful weariness; and being too busy, and too old then, torun up and down amusing her, I hit on a method by which she mightentertain herself. I used to send her on her travels round thegrounds--now on foot, and now on a pony; indulging her with a patientaudience of all her real and imaginary adventures when she returned.

The summer shone in full prime; and she took such a taste for thissolitary rambling that she often contrived to remain out from breakfasttill tea; and then the evenings were spent in recounting her fancifultales. I did not fear her breaking bounds; because the gates weregenerally locked, and I thought she would scarcely venture forth alone,if they had stood wide open. Unluckily, my confidence proved misplaced.Catherine came to me, one morning, at eight o'clock, and said she wasthat day an Arabian merchant, going to cross the Desert with his caravan;and I must give her plenty of provision for herself and beasts: a horse,and three camels, personated by a large hound and a couple of pointers. Igot together good store of dainties, and slung them in a basket on oneside of the saddle; and she sprang up as gay as a fairy, sheltered by herwide-brimmed hat and gauze veil from the July sun, and trotted off with amerry laugh, mocking my cautious counsel to avoid galloping, and comeback early. The naughty thing never made her appearance at tea. Onetraveller, the hound, being an old dog and fond of its ease, returned;but neither Cathy, nor the pony, nor the two pointers were visible in anydirection: I despatched emissaries down this path, and that path, and atlast went wandering in search of her myself. There was a labourerworking at a fence round a plantation, on the borders of the grounds. Iinquired of him if he had seen our young lady.

'I saw her at morn,' he replied: 'she would have me to cut her a hazelswitch, and then she leapt her Galloway over the hedge yonder, where itis lowest, and galloped out of sight.'

You may guess how I felt at hearing this news. It struck me directly shemust have started for Penistone Crags. 'What will become of her?' Iejaculated, pushing through a gap which the man was repairing, and makingstraight to the high-road. I walked as if for a wager, mile after mile,till a turn brought me in view of the Heights; but no Catherine could Idetect, far or near. The Crags lie about a mile and a half beyond Mr.Heathcliff's place, and that is four from the Grange, so I began to fearnight would fall ere I could reach them. 'And what if she should haveslipped in clambering among them,' I reflected, 'and been killed, orbroken some of her bones?' My suspense was truly painful; and, at first,it gave me delightful relief to observe, in hurrying by the farmhouse,Charlie, the fiercest of the pointers, lying under a window, with swelledhead and bleeding ear. I opened the wicket and ran to the door, knockingvehemently for admittance. A woman whom I knew, and who formerly livedat Gimmerton, answered: she had been servant there since the death of Mr.Earnshaw.

'Ah,' said she, 'you are come a-seeking your little mistress! Don't befrightened. She's here safe: but I'm glad it isn't the master.'

'He is not at home then, is he?' I panted, quite breathless with quickwalking and alarm.

'No, no,' she replied: 'both he and Joseph are off, and I think theywon't return this hour or more. Step in and rest you a bit.'

I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rocking herselfin a little chair that had been her mother's when a child. Her hat washung against the wall, and she seemed perfectly at home, laughing andchattering, in the best spirits imaginable, to Hareton--now a great,strong lad of eighteen--who stared at her with considerable curiosity andastonishment: comprehending precious little of the fluent succession ofremarks and questions which her tongue never ceased pouring forth.

'Very well, Miss!' I exclaimed, concealing my joy under an angrycountenance. 'This is your last ride, till papa comes back. I'll nottrust you over the threshold again, you naughty, naughty girl!'

'Aha, Ellen!' she cried, gaily, jumping up and running to my side. 'Ishall have a pretty story to tell to-night; and so you've found me out.Have you ever been here in your life before?'

'Put that hat on, and home at once,' said I. 'I'm dreadfully grieved atyou, Miss Cathy: you've done extremely wrong! It's no use pouting andcrying: that won't repay the trouble I've had, scouring the country afteryou. To think how Mr. Linton charged me to keep you in; and you stealingoff so! It shows you are a cunning little fox, and nobody will put faithin you any more.'

'What have I done?' sobbed she, instantly checked. 'Papa charged menothing: he'll not scold me, Ellen--he's never cross, like you!'

'Come, come!' I repeated. 'I'll tie the riband. Now, let us have nopetulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such a baby!'

This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head, andretreating to the chimney out of my reach.

'Nay,' said the servant, 'don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs. Dean. Wemade her stop: she'd fain have ridden forwards, afeard you should beuneasy. Hareton offered to go with her, and I thought he should: it's awild road over the hills.'

Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in his pockets, tooawkward to speak; though he looked as if he did not relish my intrusion.

'How long am I to wait?' I continued, disregarding the woman'sinterference. 'It will be dark in ten minutes. Where is the pony, MissCathy? And where is Phoenix? I shall leave you, unless you be quick; soplease yourself.'

'The pony is in the yard,' she replied, 'and Phoenix is shut in there.He's bitten--and so is Charlie. I was going to tell you all about it;but you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve to hear.'

I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceiving thatthe people of the house took her part, she commenced capering round theroom; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over and under and behindthe furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me to pursue. Hareton and thewoman laughed, and she joined them, and waxed more impertinent still;till I cried, in great irritation,--'Well, Miss Cathy, if you were awarewhose house this is you'd be glad enough to get out.'

'It's _your_ father's, isn't it?' said she, turning to Hareton.

'Nay,' he replied, looking down, and blushing bashfully.

He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they were just hisown.

'Whose then--your master's?' she asked.

He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, andturned away.

'Who is his master?' continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me. 'Hetalked about ”our house,” and ”our folk.” I thought he had been theowner's son. And he never said Miss: he should have done, shouldn't he,if he's a servant?'

Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech. Isilently shook my questioner, and at last succeeded in equipping her fordeparture.

'Now, get my horse,' she said, addressing her unknown kinsman as shewould one of the stable-boys at the Grange. 'And you may come with me. Iwant to see where the goblin-hunter rises in the marsh, and to hear aboutthe _fairishes_, as you call them: but make haste! What's the matter?Get my horse, I say.'

'I'll see thee damned before I be _thy_ servant!' growled the lad.

'You'll see me _what_!' asked Catherine in surprise.

'Damned--thou saucy witch!' he replied.

'There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company,' Iinterposed. 'Nice words to be used to a young lady! Pray don't begin todispute with him. Come, let us seek for Minny ourselves, and begone.'

'But, Ellen,' cried she, staring fixed in astonishment, 'how dare hespeak so to me? Mustn't he be made to do as I ask him? You wickedcreature, I shall tell papa what you said.--Now, then!'

Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears sprang into hereyes with indignation. 'You bring the pony,' she exclaimed, turning tothe woman, 'and let my dog free this moment!'

'Softly, Miss,' answered she addressed; 'you'll lose nothing by beingcivil. Though Mr. Hareton, there, be not the master's son, he's yourcousin: and I was never hired to serve you.'

'_He_ my cousin!' cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh.

'Yes, indeed,' responded her reprover.

'Oh, Ellen! don't let them say such things,' she pursued in greattrouble. 'Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousin is agentleman's son. That my--' she stopped, and wept outright; upset at thebare notion of relationship with such a clown.

'Hush, hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins and of allsorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn'tkeep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.'

'He's not--he's not my cousin, Ellen!' she went on, gathering fresh grieffrom reflection, and flinging herself into my arms for refuge from theidea.

I was much vexed at her and the servant for their mutual revelations;having no doubt of Linton's approaching arrival, communicated by theformer, being reported to Mr. Heathcliff; and feeling as confident thatCatherine's first thought on her father's return would be to seek anexplanation of the latter's assertion concerning her rude-bred kindred.Hareton, recovering from his disgust at being taken for a servant, seemedmoved by her distress; and, having fetched the pony round to the door, hetook, to propitiate her, a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from thekennel, and putting it into her hand, bid her whist! for he meant nought.Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with a glance of awe andhorror, then burst forth anew.

I could scarcely refrain from smiling at this antipathy to the poorfellow; who was a well-made, athletic youth, good-looking in features,and stout and healthy, but attired in garments befitting his dailyoccupations of working on the farm and lounging among the moors afterrabbits and game. Still, I thought I could detect in his physiognomy amind owning better qualities than his father ever possessed. Good thingslost amid a wilderness of weeds, to be sure, whose rankness farover-topped their neglected growth; yet, notwithstanding, evidence of awealthy soil, that might yield luxuriant crops under other and favourablecircumstances. Mr. Heathcliff, I believe, had not treated him physicallyill; thanks to his fearless nature, which offered no temptation to thatcourse of oppression: he had none of the timid susceptibility that wouldhave given zest to ill-treatment, in Heathcliff's judgment. He appearedto have bent his malevolence on making him a brute: he was never taughtto read or write; never rebuked for any bad habit which did not annoy hiskeeper; never led a single step towards virtue, or guarded by a singleprecept against vice. And from what I heard, Joseph contributed much tohis deterioration, by a narrow-minded partiality which prompted him toflatter and pet him, as a boy, because he was the head of the old family.And as he had been in the habit of accusing Catherine Earnshaw andHeathcliff, when children, of putting the master past his patience, andcompelling him to seek solace in drink by what he termed their 'offaldways,' so at present he laid the whole burden of Hareton's faults on theshoulders of the usurper of his property. If the lad swore, he wouldn'tcorrect him: nor however culpably he behaved. It gave Josephsatisfaction, apparently, to watch him go the worst lengths: he allowedthat the lad was ruined: that his soul was abandoned to perdition; butthen he reflected that Heathcliff must answer for it. Hareton's bloodwould be required at his hands; and there lay immense consolation in thatthought. Joseph had instilled into him a pride of name, and of hislineage; he would, had he dared, have fostered hate between him and thepresent owner of the Heights: but his dread of that owner amounted tosuperstition; and he confined his feelings regarding him to mutteredinnuendoes and private comminations. I don't pretend to be intimatelyacquainted with the mode of living customary in those days at WutheringHeights: I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little. The villagersaffirmed Mr. Heathcliff was _near_, and a cruel hard landlord to histenants; but the house, inside, had regained its ancient aspect ofcomfort under female management, and the scenes of riot common inHindley's time were not now enacted within its walls. The master was toogloomy to seek companionship with any people, good or bad; and he is yet.

This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathy rejectedthe peace-offering of the terrier, and demanded her own dogs, Charlie andPhoenix. They came limping and hanging their heads; and we set out forhome, sadly out of sorts, every one of us. I could not wring from mylittle lady how she had spent the day; except that, as I supposed, thegoal of her pilgrimage was Penistone Crags; and she arrived withoutadventure to the gate of the farm-house, when Hareton happened to issueforth, attended by some canine followers, who attacked her train. Theyhad a smart battle, before their owners could separate them: that formedan introduction. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where she wasgoing; and asked him to show her the way: finally, beguiling him toaccompany her. He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave, and twentyother queer places. But, being in disgrace, I was not favoured with adescription of the interesting objects she saw. I could gather, however,that her guide had been a favourite till she hurt his feelings byaddressing him as a servant; and Heathcliff's housekeeper hurt hers bycalling him her cousin. Then the language he had held to her rankled inher heart; she who was always 'love,' and 'darling,' and 'queen,' and'angel,' with everybody at the Grange, to be insulted so shockingly by astranger! She did not comprehend it; and hard work I had to obtain apromise that she would not lay the grievance before her father. Iexplained how he objected to the whole household at the Heights, and howsorry he would be to find she had been there; but I insisted most on thefact, that if she revealed my negligence of his orders, he would perhapsbe so angry that I should have to leave; and Cathy couldn't bear thatprospect: she pledged her word, and kept it for my sake. After all, shewas a sweet little girl.