Chapter XIII #2
I repented having tried this second entrance; and was almost inclined to slip away before he finished cursing, but ere I could execute that intention, he ordered me in, and shut and re-fastened the door.
There was a great fire, and that was all the light in the huge apartment, whose floor had grown a uniform grey; and the once brilliant pewter dishes which used to attract my gaze when I was a girl partook of a similar obscurity, created by tarnish and dust.
I inquired whether I might call the maid, and be conducted to a bed-room?
Mr Earnshaw vouchsafed no answer. He walked up and down, with his hands in his pockets, apparently quite forgetting my presence; and his abstraction was evidently so deep, and his whole aspect so misanthropical, that I shrank from disturbing him again.
You’ll not be surprised, Ellen, at my feeling particularly cheerless, seated in worse than solitude, on that inhospitable hearth, and remembering that four miles distant lay my delightful home, containing the only people I loved on earth: and there might as well be the Atlantic to part us, instead of those four miles, I could not overpass them!
I questioned with myself—where must I turn for comfort? and—mind you don’t tell Edgar, or Catherine—above every sorrow beside, this rose pre-eminent—despair at finding nobody who could or would be my ally against Heathcliff!
I had sought shelter at Wuthering Heights, almost gladly, because I was secured by that arrangement from living alone with him; but he knew the people we were coming amongst, and he did not fear their intermeddling.
I sat and thought a doleful time; the clock struck eight, and nine, and still my companion paced to and fro, his head bent on his breast, and perfectly silent, unless a groan, or a bitter ejaculation forced itself out at intervals.
I listened to detect a woman’s voice in the house, and filled the interim with wild regrets, and dismal anticipations, which, at last, spoke audibly in irrepressible sighing, and weeping.
I was not aware how openly I grieved, till Earnshaw halted opposite, in his measured walk, and gave me a stare of newly awakened surprise. Taking advantage of his recovered attention, I exclaimed—
‘I’m tired with my journey, and I want to go to bed! Where is the maid-servant? Direct me to her, as she won’t come to me!’
‘We have none,’ he answered; ‘you must wait on yourself!’
‘Where must I sleep, then?’ I sobbed—I was beyond regarding self-respect, weighed down by fatigue and wretchedness.
‘Joseph will show you Heathcliff’s chamber,’ said he; ‘open that door—he’s in there.’
I was going to obey, but he suddenly arrested me, and added in the strangest tone—
‘Be so good as to turn your lock, and draw your bolt—don’t omit it!’
‘Well!’ I said. ‘But why, Mr Earnshaw?’ I did not relish the notion of deliberately fastening myself in with Heathcliff.
‘Look here!’ he replied, pulling from his waistcoat a curiously constructed pistol, having a double-edged spring knife attached to the barrel.
‘That’s a great tempter to a desperate man, is it not?
I cannot resist going up with this, every night, and trying his door.
If once I find it open, he’s done for! I do it invariably, even though the minute before I have been recalling a hundred reasons that should make me refrain—it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him—you fight against that devil, for love, as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him! ’
I surveyed the weapon inquisitively; a hideous notion struck me.
How powerful I should be possessing such an instrument!
I took it from his hand, and touched the blade.
He looked astonished at the expression my face assumed during a brief second.
It was not horror, it was covetousness. He snatched the pistol back, jealously; shut the knife, and returned it to its concealment.
‘I don’t care if you tell him,’ said he. ‘Put him on his guard, and watch for him. You know the terms we are on, I see; his danger does not shock you.’
‘What has Heathcliff done to you?’ I asked. ‘In what has he wronged you to warrant this appalling hatred? Wouldn’t it be wiser to bid him quit the house?’
‘No,’ thundered Earnshaw, ‘should he offer to leave me, he’s a dead man, persuade him to attempt it, and you are a murderess!
Am I to lose all, without a chance of retrieval?
Is Hareton to be a beggar? Oh, damnation!
I will have it back; and I’ll have his gold too; and then his blood; and hell shall have his soul!
It will be ten times blacker with that guest than ever it was before! ’
You’ve acquainted me, Ellen, with your old master’s habits. He is clearly on the verge of madness—he was so, last night, at least. I shuddered to be near him, and thought on the servant’s ill-bred moroseness as comparatively agreeable.
He now recommenced his moody walk, and I raised the latch, and escaped into the kitchen.
Joseph was bending over the fire, peering into a large pan that swung above it; and a wooden bowl of oatmeal stood on the settle close by.
The contents of the pan began to boil, and he turned to plunge his hand into the bowl; I conjectured that this preparation was probably for our supper, and being hungry, I resolved it should be eatable—so crying out sharply, ‘I’ll make the porridge!
’—I removed the vessel out of his reach, and proceeded to take off my hat and riding habit.
‘Mr Earnshaw,’ I continued, ‘directs me to wait on myself—I will—I’m not going to act the lady among you, for fear I should starve. ’
‘Gooid Lord!’ he muttered, sitting down, and stroking his ribbed stockings from the knee to the ankle.
‘If they’s tuh be fresh ortherings—just when Aw getten used tuh two maisters, if Aw mun hev a mistress set o’er my heead, it’s like time tuh be flitting.
Aw niver did think tuh say t’ day ut Aw mud lave th’ owld place—but Aw daht it’s nigh at hend! ’
This lamentation drew no notice from me; I went briskly to work; sighing to remember a period when it would have been all merry fun; but compelled speedily to drive off the remembrance.
It racked me to recall past happiness, and the greater peril there was of conjuring up its apparition, the quicker the thible ran round, and the faster the handfuls of meal fell into the water.
Joseph beheld my style of cookery with growing indignation.
‘Thear!’ he ejaculated. ‘Hareton, thah willn’t sup thy porridge tuh neeght; they’ll be nowt bud lumps as big as maw nave. Thear, agean! Aw’d fling in bowl un all, if Aw wer yah! Thear, pale t’ guilp off, un’ then yah’ll hae done wi’t. Bang, bang. It’s a marcy t’bothom isn’t deaved aht!’
It was rather a rough mess, I own, when poured into the basins; four had been provided, and a gallon pitcher of new milk was brought from the dairy, which Hareton seized and commenced drinking and spilling from the expansive lip.
I expostulated, and desired that he should have his in a mug; affirming that I could not taste the liquid treated so dirtily.
The old cynic chose to be vastly offended at this nicety; assuring me, repeatedly, that ‘the barn was every bit as gooid’ as I, ‘and every bit as wollsome,’ and wondering how I could fashion to be so conceited; meanwhile, the infant ruffian continued sucking; and glowered up at me defyingly, as he slavered into the jug.
‘I shall have my supper in another room,’ I said. ‘Have you no place you call a parlour?’
‘Parlour!’ he echoed, sneeringly, ‘parlour! Nay, we’ve noa parlours. If yah dunnut loike wer company, they’s maister’s; un’ if yah dunnut loike maister, they’s us.’
‘Then I shall go upstairs,’ I answered; ‘shew me a chamber!’
I put my basin on a tray, and went myself to fetch some more milk.
With great grumblings, the fellow rose, and preceded me in my ascent: we mounted to the garrets; he opening a door, now and then, to look into the apartments we passed.
‘Here’s a rahm,’ he said, at last, flinging back a cranky board on hinges. ‘It’s weel eneugh tuh ate a few porridge in. They’s a pack uh corn i’ t’ corner, thear, meeterly clane; if yah’re feared uh muckying yer grand silk cloes, spread yer hankerchir ut t’ top on’t.’
The ‘rahm’ was a kind of lumber-hole smelling strong of malt and grain; various sacks of which articles were piled around, leaving a wide, bare space in the middle.
‘Why, man!’ I exclaimed, facing him angrily, ‘this is not a place to sleep in. I wish to see my bed-room.’
‘Bed-rume!’ he repeated, in a tone of mockery. ‘Yah’s see all t’ bed-rumes thear is—yon’s mine.’
He pointed into the second garret, only differing from the first in being more naked about the walls, and having a large, low, curtainless bed, with an indigo-coloured quilt, at one end.
‘What do I want with yours?’ I retorted. ‘I suppose Mr Heathcliff does not lodge at the top of the house, does he?’
‘Oh! it’s Maister Hathecliff’s yah’re wenting?’ cried he, as if making a new discovery. ‘Couldn’t ye uh said soa, at onst? un then, Aw mud uh telled ye, baht all this wark, ut that’s just one yah cannut sea—he allas keeps it locked, un nob’dy iver mells on’t but hisseln.’
‘You’ve a nice house, Joseph,’ I could not refrain from observing, ‘and pleasant inmates; and I think the concentrated essence of all the madness in the world took up its abode in my brain the day I linked my fate with theirs! However, that is not to the present purpose—there are other rooms. For heaven’s sake, be quick, and let me settle somewhere! ’
He made no reply to this adjuration; only plodding doggedly down the wooden steps, and halting before an apartment which, from that halt, and the superior quality of its furniture, I conjectured to be the best one.
There was a carpet, a good one; but the pattern was obliterated by dust; a fire-place hung with cut paper dropping to pieces; a handsome oak-bedstead with ample crimson curtains of rather expensive material, and modern make.
But they had evidently experienced rough usage: the valances hung in festoons, wrenched from their rings, and the iron rod supporting them was bent in an arc, on one side, causing the drapery to trail upon the floor.
The chairs were also damaged, many of them severely; and deep indentations deformed the panels of the walls.
I was endeavouring to gather resolution for entering, and taking possession, when my fool of a guide announced—
‘This here is t’ maister’s.’
My supper by this time was cold, my appetite gone, and my patience exhausted. I insisted on being provided instantly with a place of refuge, and means of repose.
‘Whear the divil,’ began the religious elder. ‘The Lord bless us! The Lord forgie us! Whear the hell, wold ye gang? ye marred, wearisome nowt! Yah seen all bud Hareton’s bit uf a cham’er. They’s nut another hoile tuh lig dahn in i’ th’ hahse!’
I was so vexed, I flung my tray and its contents on the ground; and then seated myself at the stairs-head, hid my face in my hands, and cried.
‘Ech! ech!’ exclaimed Joseph. ‘Weel done, Miss Cathy! weel done, Miss Cathy! Hahsiver, t’ maister sall just tum’le o’er them brocken pots; un’ then we’s hear summut; we’s hear hah it’s tuh be.
Gooid-fur-nowt madling! yah desarve pining froo this tuh Churstmas, flinging t’ precious gifts uh God under fooit i’ yer flaysome rages!
Bud, Aw’m mista’en if yah shew yer sperrit lang.
Will Hathecliff bide sich bonny ways, think ye?
Aw nobbut wish he muh cotch ye i’ that plisky. Aw nobbut wish he may.’
And so he went scolding to his den beneath, taking the candle with him, and I remained in the dark.
The period of reflection succeeding this silly action, compelled me to admit the necessity of smothering my pride, and choking my wrath, and bestirring myself to remove its effects.
An unexpected aid presently appeared in the shape of Throttler, whom I now recognised as a son of our old Skulker; it had spent its whelphood at the Grange, and was given by my father to Mr Hindley.
I fancy it knew me—it pushed its nose against mine by way of salute, and then hastened to devour the porridge, while I groped from step to step, collecting the shattered earthenware, and drying the spatters of milk from the bannister with my pocket-handkerchief.
Our labours were scarcely over when I heard Earnshaw’s tread in the passage; my assistant tucked in his tail, and pressed to the wall; I stole into the nearest doorway.
The dog’s endeavour to avoid him was unsuccessful; as I guessed by a scutter down stairs, and a prolonged, piteous yelping.
I had better luck. He passed on, entered his chamber, and shut the door.
Directly after Joseph came up with Hareton, to put him to bed. I had found shelter in Hareton’s room, and the old man, on seeing me, said—
‘They’s rahm fur boath yah, un yer pride, nah, Aw sud think, i’ th’ hahse. It’s empty; yah muh hev it all tuh yerseln, un Him as allas maks a third, i’ sich ill company!’
Gladly did I take advantage of this intimation; and the minute I flung myself into a chair, by the fire, I nodded, and slept.
My slumber was deep, and sweet, though over far too soon. Mr Heathcliff awoke me; he had just come in, and demanded, in his loving manner, what I was doing there?
I told him the cause of my staying up so late—that he had the key of our room in his pocket.
The adjective our gave mortal offence. He swore it was not, nor ever should be mine; and he’d—but I’ll not repeat his language, nor describe his habitual conduct; he is ingenious and unresting in seeking to gain my abhorrence!
I sometimes wonder at him with an intensity that deadens my fear; yet, I assure you, a tiger, or a venomous serpent could not rouse terror in me equal to that which he wakens.
He told me of Catherine’s illness, and accused my brother of causing it; promising that I should be Edgar’s proxy in suffering, till he could get a hold of him.
I do hate him—I am wretched—I have been a fool! Beware of uttering one breath of this to any one at the Grange. I shall expect you every day—don’t disappoint me!
ISABELLA.