Wuthering Heights
yonder. Ah, he has caught a glimpse of us—he is coming in! I wonder
will he have the heart to find a plausible excuse for making love to
Miss, when he told you he hated her?”
Mrs. Linton saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden;
and a minute after, Heathcliff opened the door. I couldn’t withhold
giving some loose to my indignation; but Catherine angrily insisted on
silence, and threatened to order me out of the kitchen, if I dared to
be so presumptuous as to put in my insolent tongue.
“To hear you, people might think you were the mistress!” she cried.
“You want setting down in your right place! Heathcliff, what are you
about, raising this stir? I said you must let Isabella alone!—I beg you
will, unless you are tired of being received here, and wish Linton to
draw the bolts against you!”
“God forbid that he should try!” answered the black villain. I detested
him just then. “God keep him meek and patient! Every day I grow madder
after sending him to heaven!”
“Hush!” said Catherine, shutting the inner door. “Don’t vex me. Why
have you disregarded my request? Did she come across you on purpose?”
“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.
Clear your face: you sha’n’t scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you
shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff!
There, you won’t answer. I’m certain you don’t.”
“And would Mr. Linton approve of his sister marrying that man?” I
inquired.
“Mr. Linton should approve,” returned my lady, decisively.
“He might spare himself the trouble,” said Heathcliff: “I could do as
well without his approbation. And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind
to speak a few words now, while we are at it. I want you to be aware
that I _know_ you have treated me infernally—infernally! Do you hear?
And if you flatter yourself that I don’t perceive 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, in a very little while! Meantime, thank you for telling me
your sister-in-law’s secret: I swear I’ll make the most of it. And
stand you aside!”
“What new phase of his character is this?” exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in
amazement. “I’ve treated you infernally—and you’ll take your revenge!
How will you take it, ungrateful brute? How have I treated you
infernally?”
“I seek no revenge on you,” replied Heathcliff, less vehemently.
“That’s not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don’t
turn against him; they 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, and refrain from insult as much as you are
able. Having levelled my palace, don’t erect a hovel and complacently
admire your own charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you
really wished me to marry Isabel, I’d cut my throat!”
“Oh, the evil is that I am _not_ jealous, is it?” cried Catherine.
“Well, I won’t repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering
Satan a lost soul. Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery. You
prove it. Edgar is restored from the ill-temper he gave way to at your
coming; I begin to be secure and tranquil; and you, restless to know us
at peace, appear resolved on exciting 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.”
The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and
gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable: she could
neither lay nor control it. He stood on the hearth with folded arms,
brooding on his evil thoughts; and in this position I left them to seek
the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long.
“Ellen,” said he, when I entered, “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 do think it’s time to
arrange his visits on another footing. There’s harm in being too soft,
and now it’s come to this—.” And I related the scene in the court, and,
as near as I dared, the whole subsequent dispute. I fancied it could
not be very prejudicial to Mrs. Linton; unless she made it so
afterwards, by assuming the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had
difficulty in hearing me to the close. His first words revealed that he
did not clear his wife of blame.
“This is insufferable!” he exclaimed. “It is disgraceful that she
should own him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two
men out of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue
with the low ruffian—I have humoured her enough.”
He descended, and bidding the servants wait in the passage, went,
followed by me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommenced their
angry discussion: Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed
vigour; Heathcliff had moved to the window, and hung his head, somewhat
cowed by her violent rating apparently. He saw the master first, and
made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed,
abruptly, on discovering the reason of his intimation.
“How is this?” said Linton, addressing her; “what notion of propriety
must you have to remain here, after the language which has been held to
you by that blackguard? I suppose, because it is his ordinary talk you
think nothing of it: you are habituated to his baseness, and, perhaps,
imagine I can get used to it too!”
“Have you been listening at the door, Edgar?” asked the mistress, in a
tone particularly calculated to provoke her husband, implying both
carelessness and contempt of his irritation. Heathcliff, who had raised
his eyes at the former speech, gave a sneering laugh at the latter; on
purpose, it seemed, to draw Mr. Linton’s attention to him. He
succeeded; but Edgar did not mean to entertain him with any high
flights of passion.
“I’ve been so far forbearing with you, sir,” he said quietly; “not that
I was ignorant of your miserable, degraded character, but I felt you
were only partly responsible for that; and Catherine wishing to keep up
your acquaintance, I acquiesced—foolishly. Your presence is a moral
poison that would contaminate the most virtuous: for that cause, and to
prevent worse consequences, I shall deny you hereafter admission into
this house, and give notice now that I require your instant departure.
Three minutes’ delay will render it involuntary and ignominious.”
Heathcliff measured the height and breadth of the speaker with an eye
full of 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 mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down!”
My master glanced towards the passage, and signed me to fetch the men:
he had no intention of hazarding a personal encounter. I obeyed the
hint; but Mrs. Linton, suspecting something, followed; and when I
attempted to call them, she pulled me back, slammed the door to, 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, make an apology, or
allow yourself to be beaten. It will correct you of feigning more
valour than you possess. No, I’ll swallow the key before you shall get
it! I’m delightfully rewarded for my kindness to each! After constant
indulgence of one’s weak nature, and the other’s bad one, I earn for
thanks two samples of blind ingratitude, stupid to absurdity! Edgar, I
was defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick,
for daring to think an evil thought of me!”
It did not need the medium of a flogging to produce that effect on the
master. He tried to wrest the key from Catherine’s grasp, and for
safety she flung it into the hottest part of the fire; whereupon Mr.
Edgar was taken with a nervous trembling, and his countenance grew
deadly pale. For his life he could not avert that excess of emotion:
mingled anguish and humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on
the back of a chair, and covered his face.
“Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood!” exclaimed
Mrs. Linton. “We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as
soon lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a
colony of mice. Cheer up! you sha’n’t be hurt! Your type is not a lamb,
it’s a sucking leveret.”
“I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy!” said her friend. “I
compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering
thing you preferred to me! I would not strike him with my fist, but I’d
kick him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction. Is he
weeping, or is he going to faint for fear?”
The fellow approached and gave the chair on which Linton rested a push.
He’d better have kept his distance: my master quickly sprang erect, and
struck him full on the throat a blow that would have levelled a
slighter man. It took his breath for a minute; and while he choked, Mr.
Linton walked out by the back door into the yard, and from thence to
the front entrance.
“There! you’ve done with coming here,” cried Catherine. “Get away, now;
he’ll return with a brace of pistols and half-a-dozen assistants. If he
did overhear us, of course he’d never forgive you. You’ve played me an
ill turn, Heathcliff! But go—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 in like a rotten hazel-nut
before I cross the threshold! If I don’t floor him now, I shall murder
him some time; so, as you value his existence, let me get at him!”
“He is not coming,” I interposed, framing a bit of a lie. “There’s the
coachman and the two gardeners; you’ll surely not wait to be thrust
into the road by them! Each has a bludgeon; and master will, very
likely, be watching from the parlour-windows to see that they fulfil
his orders.”
The gardeners and coachman _were_ there: but Linton was with them. They
had already entered the court. Heathcliff, on the second thoughts,
resolved to avoid a struggle against three underlings: he seized the
poker, smashed the lock from the inner door, and made his escape as
they tramped in.
Mrs. Linton, who was very much excited, bade me accompany her upstairs.
She did not know my share in contributing to the disturbance, and I was
anxious to keep her in ignorance.
“I’m nearly distracted, Nelly!” she exclaimed, throwing herself on the
sofa. “A thousand smiths’ hammers are beating in my head! Tell Isabella
to shun me; this uproar is owing to her; and should she or any one else
aggravate my anger at present, I shall get wild. And, Nelly, say to
Edgar, if you see him again to-night, that I’m in danger of being
seriously ill. I wish it may prove true. He has startled and distressed
me shockingly! I want to frighten him. Besides, he might come and begin
a string of abuse or complainings; I’m certain I should recriminate,
and God knows where we should end! Will you do so, my good Nelly? You
are aware that I am no way blamable in this matter. What possessed him
to turn listener? Heathcliff’s talk was outrageous, after you left us;
but I could soon have diverted him from Isabella, and the rest meant
nothing. Now all is dashed wrong; by the fool’s craving to hear evil of
self, that haunts some people like a demon! Had Edgar never gathered
our conversation, he would never have been the worse for it. Really,
when he opened on me in that unreasonable tone of displeasure after I