"Yes!" I reflected to myself, "we shall have a fit of illness. I cannot
conceive what he has been doing!"
That noon he sat down to dinner with us, and received a heaped-up plate
from my hands, as if he intended to make amends for previous fasting.
"I've neither cold nor fever, Nelly," he remarked, in allusion to my
morning speech. "And I'm ready to do justice to the food you give me."
He took his knife and fork, and was going to commence eating, when the
inclination appeared to become suddenly extinct. He laid them on the
table, looked eagerly toward the window, then rose and went out. We saw
him walking to and fro in the garden, while we concluded our meal; and
Earnshaw said he'd go and ask why he would not dine; he thought we had
grieved him some way.
"Well, is he coming?" cried Catherine, when he returned.
"Nay," he answered; "but he's not angry: he seemed rare and pleased
indeed; only I made him impatient by speaking to him twice: and then he
bid me be off to you; he wondered how I could want the company of
anybody else."
I set his plate to keep warm on the fender; and after an hour or two he
re-entered, when the room was clear, in no degree calmer: the same
unnatural--it was unnatural!--appearance of joy under his black brows;
the same bloodless hue; and his teeth visible now and then in a kind of
smile; his frame shivering, not as one shivers with chill or weakness,
but as a tight-stretched cord vibrates--a strong thrilling, rather than
trembling.
"I will ask what is the matter," I thought, "or who should?" And I
exclaimed, "Have you heard any good news, Mr. Heathcliff? You look
uncommonly animated."
"Where should good news come from to me?" he said. "I'm animated with
hunger; and seemingly I must not eat."
"Your dinner is here," I returned: "why won't you get it?"
"I don't want it now," he muttered hastily. "I'll wait till supper. And,
Nelly, once for all, let me beg you to warn Hareton and the other away
from me. I wish to be troubled by nobody--I wish to have this place
to myself."
"Is there some new reason for this banishment?" I inquired. "Tell me why
you are so queer, Mr. Heathcliff. Where were you last night? I'm not
putting the question through idle curiosity, but--"
"You are putting the question through very idle curiosity," he
interrupted, with a laugh. "Yet I'll answer it. Last night I was on the
threshold of hell. To-day I am within sight of my heaven--I have my eyes
on it--hardly three feet to sever me. And now you'd better go. You'll
neither see nor hear anything to frighten you if you refrain
from prying."
Having swept the hearth and wiped the table, I departed more perplexed
than ever. He did not quit the house again that afternoon, and no one
intruded on his solitude till at eight o'clock I deemed it proper,
though unsummoned, to carry a candle and his supper to him.
He was leaning against the ledge of an open lattice, but not looking
out; his face was turned to the interior gloom. The fire had smoldered
to ashes; the room was filled with the damp, mild air of the cloudy
evening; and so still, that not only the murmur of the beck down
Gimmerton was distinguishable, but its ripples, and its gurgling over
the pebbles, or through the large stones which it could not cover.
I uttered an ejaculation of discontent at seeing the dismal grate, and
commenced shutting the casements, one after another, till I came to his.
"Must I close this?" I asked, in order to rouse him, for he would not
stir.
The light flashed on his features as I spoke. O Mr. Lockwood, I cannot
express what a terrible start I got by the momentary view! Those deep
black eyes! That smile and ghastly paleness! It appeared to me not Mr.
Heathcliff, but a goblin; and in my terror I let the candle bend toward
the wall, and it left me in darkness.
"Yes, close it," he replied in his familiar voice. "There, that is pure
awkwardness! Why did you hold the candle horizontally? Be quick, and
bring another."
I hurried out in a foolish state of dread, and said to Joseph, "The
master wishes you to take him a light and rekindle the fire." For I dare
not go in myself again just then.
Joseph rattled some fire into the shovel and went; but he brought it
back immediately, with the supper tray in his other hand, explaining
that Mr. Heathcliff was going to bed, and he wanted nothing to eat
till morning.
We heard him mount the stairs directly. He did not proceed to his
ordinary chamber, but turned into that with the paneled bed; its window,
as I mentioned before, is wide enough for anybody to get through, and it
struck me that he plotted another midnight excursion, which he had
rather we had no suspicion of.
"Is he a ghoul, or a vampire?" I mused. I had read of such hideous
incarnate demons. And then I set myself to reflect how I had tended him
in infancy, and watched him grow to youth, and followed him almost
through his whole course, and what nonsense it was to yield to that
sense of horror.
"But where did he come from, the little dark thing, harbored by a good
man to his bane?" muttered Superstition, as I dozed into
unconsciousness. And I began, half dreaming, to weary myself with
imagining some fit parentage for him: and repeating my waking
meditations I tracked his existence over again, with grim variations; at
last picturing his death and funeral; of which all I can remember is
being exceedingly vexed at having the task of dictating an inscription
for his monument, and consulting the sexton about it; and as he had no
surname, and we could not tell his age, we were obliged to content
ourselves with the single word "Heathcliff." That came true--we were. If
you enter the kirkyard, you'll read on his headstone only that, and the
date of his death. Dawn restored me to common-sense. I rose, and went
into the garden, as soon as I could see, to ascertain if there were any
foot-marks under his window. There were none.
"He has staid at home," I thought, "and he'll be all right to-day!"
I prepared breakfast for the household, as was my usual custom, but told
Hareton and Catherine to get theirs ere the master came down, for he lay
late. They preferred taking it out of doors, under the trees, and I set
a little table to accommodate them.
On my re-entrance I found Mr. Heathcliff below. He and Joseph were
conversing about some farming business; he gave clear, minute directions
concerning the matter discussed, but he spoke rapidly, and turned his
head continually aside, and had the same excited expression, even more
exaggerated.
When Joseph quitted the room, he took his seat in the place he generally
chose, and I put a basin of coffee before him. He drew it nearer, and
then rested his arms on the table, and looked at the opposite wall, as I
supposed surveying one particular portion, up and down, with glittering,
restless eyes, and with such eager interest that he stopped breathing
during half a minute together.
"Come now," I exclaimed, pushing some bread against his hand, "eat and
drink that while it is hot. It has been waiting near an hour."
He didn't notice me, and yet he smiled. I'd rather have seen him gnash
his teeth than smile so.
"Mr. Heathcliff! master!" I cried. "Don't, for God's sake, stare as if
you saw an unearthly vision."
"Don't, for God's sake, shout so loud," he replied. "Turn round and tell
me, are we by ourselves?"
"Of course," was my answer, "of course we are!"
Still I involuntarily obeyed him, as if I were not quite sure. With a
sweep of his hand he cleared a vacant space in front among the breakfast
things, and leaned forward to gaze more at his ease.
Now I perceived he was not looking at the wall; for when I regarded him
alone, it seemed exactly that he gazed at something within two yards'
distance. And, whatever it was, it communicated apparently both pleasure
and pain in exquisite extremes; at least the anguished yet raptured
expression of his countenance suggested that idea.
The fancied object was not fixed either; his eyes pursued it with
unwearied vigilance, and even in speaking to me, were never weaned away.
I vainly reminded him of his protracted abstinence from food. If he
stirred to touch anything in compliance with my entreaties--if he
stretched his hand out to get a piece of bread--his fingers clenched
before they reached it, and remained on the table, forgetful of
their aim.
I sat, a model of patience, trying to attract his absorbed attention
from its engrossing speculation till he grew irritable and got up,
asking why I would not allow him to have his own time in taking his
meals? and saying that on the next occasion I needn't wait--I might set
the things down and go. Having uttered these words, he left the house,
slowly sauntered down the garden path, and disappeared through the gate.
The hours crept anxiously by: another evening came. I did not retire to
rest till late, and when I did I could not sleep. He returned after
midnight, and instead of going to bed, shut himself into the room
beneath. I listened and tossed about, and finally dressed and descended.
It was too irksome to lie up there, harassing my brain with a hundred
idle misgivings.
I distinguished Mr. Heathcliff's step, restlessly measuring the floor;
and he frequently broke the silence by a deep inspiration, resembling a
groan. He muttered detached words also; the only one I could catch was
the name of Catherine, coupled with some wild term of endearment or
suffering, and spoken as one would speak to a person present--low and
earnest, and wrung from the depth of his soul.
I had not courage to walk straight into the apartment; but I desired to
divert him from his revery, and therefore fell foul of the kitchen fire;
stirred it and began to scrape the cinders. It drew him forth sooner
than I expected. He opened the door immediately, and said:--
"Nelly, come here--is it morning? Come in with your light."
"It is striking four," I answered; "you want a candle to take
upstairs--you might have lighted one at this fire."
"No, I don't wish to go upstairs," he said. "Come in, and kindle _me_ a
fire, and do anything there is to do about the room."
"I must blow the coals red first, before I can carry any," I replied,
getting a chair and the bellows.
He roamed to and fro, meantime, in a state approaching distraction, his
heavy sighs succeeding each other so thick as to leave no space for
common breathing between.
"When day breaks, I'll send for Green," he said; "I wish to make some
legal inquiries of him, while I can bestow a thought on those matters,
and while I can act calmly. I have not written my will yet, and how to
leave my property I cannot determine! I wish I could annihilate it from
the face of the earth."
"I would not talk so, Mr. Heathcliff," I interposed. "Let your will be a
while--you'll be spared to repent of your many injustices yet! I never
expected that your nerves would be disordered--they are, at present,
marvelously so, however; and almost entirely through your own fault. The
way you've passed these last three days might knock up a Titan. Do take
some food and some repose. You need only look at yourself in a glass to
see how you require both. Your cheeks are hollow and your eyes
bloodshot, like a person starving with hunger and going blind with loss
of sleep."
"It is not my fault that I cannot eat or rest," he replied. "I assure
you it is through no settled designs. I'll do both as soon as I possibly
can. But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water rest within
arm's-length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest.
Well, never mind Mr. Green; as to repenting of my injustices, I've done
no injustice, and I repent of nothing. I'm too happy, and yet I'm not
happy enough. My soul's bliss kills my body, but does not
satisfy itself."
"Happy, master?" I cried. "Strange happiness! If you would hear me
without being angry, I might offer some advice that would make
you happier."
"What is that?" he asked. "Give it."
"You are aware, Mr. Heathcliff," I said, "that from the time you were
thirteen years old you have lived a selfish, unchristian life: and
probably hardly had a Bible in your hands during all that period. You
must have forgotten the contents of the book, and you may not have space
to search it now. Could it be hurtful to send for some one--some
minister of any denomination, it does not matter which--to explain it,
and show you how very far you have erred from its precepts, and how
unfit you will be for its heaven, unless a change takes place before
you die?"
"I'm rather obliged than angry, Nelly," he said, "for you remind me of
the manner that I desire to be buried in. It is to be carried to the
churchyard in the evening. You and Hareton may, if you please, accompany
me--and mind, particularly, to notice that the sexton obeys my
directions concerning the two coffins! No minister need come; nor need
anything be said over me. I tell you, I have nearly attained _my_
heaven; and that of others is altogether unvalued and uncoveted by me!"
"And supposing you persevered in your obstinate fast, and died by that
means, and they refused to bury you in the precincts of the kirk?" I
said, shocked at his godless indifference. "How would you like it?"
"They won't do that," he replied; "if they did, you must have me removed
secretly; and if you neglect it, you shall prove practically that the
dead are not annihilated!"
As soon as he heard the other members of the family stirring, he retired
to his den, and I breathed freer. But in the afternoon, while Joseph and
Hareton were at their work, he came into the kitchen again, and with a
wild look bid me come and sit in the house--he wanted somebody with him.
I declined, telling him plainly that his strange talk and manner
frightened me, and I had neither the nerve nor the will to be his
companion alone.
"I believe you think me a fiend!" he said, with his dismal laugh;
"something too horrible to live under a decent roof!"
Then turning to Catherine, who was there, and who drew behind me at his
approach, he added, half sneeringly:--
"Will _you_ come, chuck? I'll not hurt you. No! to you I've made myself
worse than the devil. Well, there is _one_ who won't shrink from my
company! By God! she's relentless. Oh, damn it! It's unutterably too
much for flesh and blood to bear, even mine."
He solicited the society of no one more. At dusk he went into his
chamber. Through the whole night, and far into the morning, we heard him
groaning and murmuring to himself. Hareton was anxious to enter, but I
bid him fetch Mr. Kenneth, and he should go in and see him.
When he came, and I requested admittance and tried to open the door, I
found it locked; and Heathcliff bid us be damned. He was better, and
would be left alone; so the doctor went away.
The following evening was very wet; indeed, it poured down till
day-dawn; and as I took my morning walk round the house, I observed the
master's window swinging open, and the rain driving straight in.
"He cannot be in bed," I thought: "those showers would drench him
through! He must be either up or out. But I'll make no more ado; I'll go
boldly, and look!"
Having succeeded in obtaining entrance with another key, I ran to
unclose the panels, for the chamber was vacant--quickly pushing them
aside, I peeped in. Mr. Heathcliff was there--laid on his back. His eyes
met mine, so keen and fierce that I started; and then he seemed
to smile.
I could not think him dead--but his face and throat were washed with
rain; the bed-clothes dripped, and he was perfectly still. The lattice,
flapping to and fro, had grazed one hand that rested on the sill--no
blood trickled from the broken skin, and when I put my fingers to it I
could doubt no more--he was dead and stark!
I hasped the window; I combed his long, black hair from his forehead; I
tried to close his eyes--to extinguish, if possible, that frightful,
lifelike exultation, before any one else beheld it. They would not
shut--they seemed to sneer at my attempts, and his parted lips and sharp
white teeth sneered too! Taken with another fit of cowardice, I cried
out for Joseph. Joseph shuffled up and made a noise, but resolutely
refused to meddle with him. "Th' divil's harried off his soul," he
cried, "and he muh hev his carcass intuh t' bargain, for ow't aw care!
Ech! what a wicked un he looks, grinning at death!" and the old sinner
grinned in mockery.
I thought he intended to cut a caper round the bed; but suddenly
composing himself, he fell on his knees and raised his hands, and
returned thanks that the lawful master and the ancient stock were
restored to their rights.
I felt stunned by the awful event; and my memory unavoidably recurred to
former times with a sort of oppressive sadness. But poor Hareton, the
most wronged, was the only one that really suffered much. He sat by the
corpse all night, weeping in bitter earnest. He pressed its hand, and
kissed the sarcastic, savage face that every one else shrank from
contemplating; and bemoaned him with that strong grief which springs
naturally from a generous heart, though it be tough as tempered steel.
Kenneth was perplexed to pronounce of what disorder the master died. I
concealed the fact of his having swallowed nothing for four days,
fearing it might lead to trouble; and then, I am persuaded, he did not
abstain on purpose: it was the consequence of his strange illness, not
the cause.
We buried him, to the scandal of the whole neighborhood, as he had
wished. Earnshaw and I, the sexton, and six men to carry the coffin,
comprehended the whole attendance.
The six men departed when they had let it down into the grave: we stayed
to see it covered. Hareton, with a streaming face, dug green sods and
laid them over the brown mold himself. At present it is as smooth and
verdant as its companion mounds--and I hope its tenant sleeps as
soundly. But the country folks, if you asked them, would swear on their
Bibles that he _walks_. There are those who speak to having met him near
the church, and on the moor, and even within this house. Idle tales,
you'll say, and so say I. Yet that old man by the kitchen fire affirms
he has seen "two on 'em" looking out of his chamber window on every
rainy night since his death--and an odd thing happened to me about a
month ago.
I was going to the grange one evening--a dark evening threatening
thunder--and, just at the turn of the Heights, I encountered a little
boy with a sheep and two lambs before him. He was crying terribly, and I
supposed the lambs were skittish and would not be guided.
"What is the matter, my little man?" I asked.
"They's Heathcliff and a woman yonder, under t' nab," he blubbered, "un'
aw darnut pass 'em."
I saw nothing, but neither the sheep nor he would go on, so I bid him
take the road lower down. He probably raised the phantoms from thinking,
as he traversed the moors alone, on the nonsense he had heard his
parents and companions repeat; yet still I don't like being out in the
dark now, and I don't like being left by myself in this grim house. I
cannot help it; I shall be glad when they leave it and shift to
the Grange!
* * * * *
"They are going to the Grange, then?" I said.
"Yes," answered Mrs. Dean, "as soon as they are married; and that will
be on New Year's day."
"And who will live here then?"
"Why, Joseph will take care of the house, and perhaps a lad to keep him
company. They will live in the kitchen, and the rest will be shut up."
"For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it," I observed.
"No, Mr. Lockwood," said Nelly, shaking her head. "I believe the dead
are at peace, but it is not right to speak of them with levity."
At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning.
"_They_ are afraid of nothing," I grumbled, watching their approach
through the window. "Together they would brave Satan and all
his legions."
As they stepped upon the door-stones, and halted to take a last look at
the moon, or more correctly at each other, by her light, I felt
irresistibly impelled to escape them again; and pressing a remembrance
into the hands of Mrs. Dean, and disregarding her expostulations at my
rudeness, I vanished through the kitchen, as they opened the house-door;
and so should have confirmed Joseph in his opinion of his
fellow-servant's gay indiscretions, had he not fortunately recognized me
for a respectable character by the sweet ring of a sovereign at
his feet.
My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirk.
When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress even in
seven months--many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and
slates jutted off, here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to
be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.
I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next
the moor--the middle one, gray, and half buried in the heath--Edgar
Linton's only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its
foot--Heathcliff's still bare.
I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths
fluttering among the heath and harebells; listened to the soft wind
breathing through the grass; and wondered how any one could ever imagine
unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.