Wuthering Bites (21 page)

‘Linton!' cried Cathy, kindling into joyful surprise at the name. ‘Is that little Linton? He's taller than I am! Are you Linton?'

The youth stepped forward and acknowledged himself and she kissed him fervently. She then took a step back and they gazed with wonder at the change time had wrought in the appearance of each. Catherine had reached her full height; her figure was slender, elastic as steel, and her whole aspect sparkling with health and spirits. Despite his resemblance to his father, Linton's looks and movements were very languid, and his form extremely slight. But there was a grace in his manner that mitigated these defects, and rendered him not unpleasing.

After exchanging numerous marks of fondness with him, Miss Cathy walked over to Mr. Heathcliff, who lingered by the door. ‘And you are my uncle, then!' she cried, reaching up to salute him. ‘I thought I liked you, though you were cross, at first. You frightened off that vampire with impressive skill.' She peered at him more closely. ‘Why don't you visit at the Grange with Linton? We could use your skills. Only last week one of those beasties slipped through the gates and sucked several guinea hens dry, then left them hanging on the clothesline with the clean sheets.'

‘I visited once or twice too often before you were born,' he answered.

‘Naughty Nelly!' exclaimed Miss Cathy, setting herself before me. ‘Wicked Nelly! How could you hinder me from coming here? But I'll take this walk every morning in future. May I, Uncle?' She spun back to him. ‘And sometimes bring Papa. Won't you be glad to see us?'

‘Of course!' replied the uncle, with a hardly suppressed grimace. ‘But I'd better tell you that I think your papa will not.'

I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck. Surely he would not bring up his relationship with her mother, for that tale would, no doubt, lead to the truth of the unholy grave outside the kirkyard! My master had seen fit to protect his daughter from knowledge of her mother's last days on earth, and it was no one's place to tell her, save him.

Fortunately, that was not the path he took, probably because he did not want to admit that it was
his
fault Catherine went into the garden looking for him. He did not want her to know it was
his
fault the vampires had gotten so comfortable in the moors due to his hospitality that they would waltz in and feed on a half-wit woman in her own garden.

‘Mr. Linton has a prejudice against me,' he told my young charge. ‘We quarreled at one time of our lives, with un-Christian ferocity, and, if you mention coming here to him, he'll put a veto on your visits altogether. Therefore, you must not mention it, unless you do not wish to see your cousin hereafter. You may come, if you will, but you must not mention it.'

‘Why did you quarrel?' asked Catherine, considerably crestfallen.

‘He thought me too poor to wed his sister,' lied Heathcliff. ‘And was grieved that I got her. His pride was hurt, and he'll never forgive it.'

‘That's wrong!' said the young lady. ‘Sometime, I'll tell him so. But Linton and I have no share in your quarrel. I'll not come here, but he shall come to the Grange and then no one will be angry.'

‘It will be too far for me,' murmured her cousin. ‘To walk four miles would kill me. No, come here, Miss Catherine, not every morning, but once or twice a week.'

‘Linton!'

‘Yes, Father?' answered the boy.

‘Why not show your cousin around? Take her into the garden before you change your shoes, and into the stable to see your horse.'

‘Wouldn't you rather sit here?' asked Linton, addressing Cathy in a tone that expressed reluctance to move again.

‘I don't know,' she replied, casting a longing look to the door, and evidently eager to be active. ‘Might we see another vampire if we go into the garden? I always seem to miss them at the Grange.'

At the word, the weakling boy shrank back.

‘Don't be ridiculous, Linton,' Mr. Heathcliff barked. ‘You're perfectly safe.' Mr. Heathcliff sent him a warning glance and went into the yard, calling out for Hareton.

Hareton responded, and presently the two re-entered. The young man had been washing himself, as was visible by the glow on his cheeks, and his wetted hair.

‘Oh, I'll ask
you,
Uncle,' cried Miss Cathy, recollecting the housekeeper's assertion. ‘That is not my cousin, is he?'

‘Yes,' Mr. Heathcliff replied. ‘Hareton is your mother's nephew. Don't you like him?'

Catherine gave a queer look.

‘Well then, Hareton,' Mr. Heathcliff conceded. ‘Take her round the farm and behave like a gentleman. Mind you, don't use any bad words, and don't stare. And if you see that she-bitch peering over the walls, remind her she will not be warned again. Next time her head will be on a pike next to her brother's. Be off, now, and entertain Miss Cathy as nicely as you can.'

We watched the couple walking past the window.

‘Don't you think Hindley would be proud of his son, if he could see him?' Mr. Heathcliff remarked. ‘Almost as proud as I am of mine. But there's this difference; one is gold put to the use of paving-stones, and the other is tin polished to ape a service of silver.
Mine
has nothing valuable about it, yet I shall have the merit of making it go as far as such poor stuff can go.
His
had first-rate qualities, and they are lost, rendered worse than unavailing. And the best of it is, Hareton is damnably fond of me!'

Heathcliff chuckled a fiendish laugh at the idea. I made no reply, because talk of the dead Hindley rising to see his son made me think of Catherine's grave still fresh after all these years. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Mr. Heathcliff there and then what he knew of that, but if I angered him and he fed me to that female vampire, how would Miss Cathy ever get home in time for the evening meal?

Meantime, our young companion, who sat too removed from us to hear what was said, glanced restlessly toward the window.

‘Get up, you idle boy!' Mr. Heathcliff exclaimed with assumed heartiness. ‘Away after them! They are just at the corner, by the stand of beehives.'

Linton gathered his energies and left the hearth. The door was open, and, as he stepped out, I heard Cathy inquiring of her unsociable attendant what was that inscription over the door?

Hareton stared up and scratched his head like a true clown.

‘It's some damnable writing,' he answered. ‘I cannot read it.'

‘Can't read it?' cried Catherine. ‘I can read it. But I want to know why it is there.'

Linton giggled—the first appearance of mirth he had exhibited.

‘He does not know his letters,' he said to his cousin. ‘Could you believe in the existence of such a colossal dunce?'

‘And why do those cherubs have fangs? The carving looks rather old; the infestation only came to the moors some forty years ago.'

‘Crazy relations, the ones who built the house, I suppose,' Linton offered.

‘Is Hareton all as he should be, Linton?' asked Miss Cathy seriously. ‘Or is he simple, too? I've questioned him twice now, and each time he looked so stupid I think he does not understand me. I can hardly understand him, I'm sure!'

Linton repeated his laugh, and glanced at Hareton tauntingly. ‘There's nothing the matter but laziness, is there, Earnshaw?' he said. ‘My cousin fancies you are an idiot. There you experience the consequence of scorning “book-larning,” as you would say. Have you noticed, Catherine, his frightful Yorkshire pronunciation?'

The two youngsters broke into a noisy fit of merriment, my giddy Miss delighted to discover that she might turn Hareton's strange talk to a matter of amusement.

Hareton raised his fist to Linton, obviously not appreciating the jests, and Linton cowered.

‘Papa warned you to try to behave like a gentleman—now do!'

‘If thou weren't more a lass than a lad, I'd fell thee this minute, I would, pitiful lath of a crater!' retorted the angry boor, retreating. His face was burnt with mingled rage and mortification, for he was conscious of being insulted.

Mr. Heathcliff smiled when he saw him go, but immediately afterward cast of look of singular aversion on the flippant pair. Cathy and Linton remained chattering in the doorway, he discussing Hareton's faults and deficiencies, and relating anecdotes of his goings-on, and the girl relishing his pert and spiteful sayings, without considering the ill nature they evinced.

We stayed till afternoon, when I was finally able to tear Miss Cathy away. As we walked home, with Hareton walking behind us, serving as a guard should the female vampire show her hideous face again, I tried to warn her of the character of the people at the Heights, but she would not listen. She had somehow gotten it in her head that I was prejudiced against them, and nothing I said could change her mind.

She did not mention the visit that night because she did not see Mr. Linton. Next day it all came out, sadly to my chagrin, and still I was not altogether sorry. ‘Papa!' she exclaimed, after the morning's salutations. ‘Guess whom I saw yesterday, in my walk on the moors?'

She gave a faithful account of her excursion, wisely leaving out the incident with the vampire, and my master, though he cast more than one reproachful look at me, said nothing till she had concluded. Then he drew her to him, and asked if she knew why he had concealed Linton's near neighborhood from her? Could she think it was to deny her a pleasure that she might harmlessly enjoy?

‘It was because you dislike Mr. Heathcliff,' she answered.

‘No, it was not because I disliked Mr. Heathcliff, but because Mr. Heathcliff dislikes me. He is a most diabolical man, delighting to wrong and ruin those he hates, if they give him the slightest opportunity. I knew that you could not keep up an acquaintance with your cousin without being brought into contact with him. I knew he would detest you, on my account, so for your own good, I took cautions that you should not see Linton again. I meant to explain this sometime as you grew older, and I'm sorry I delayed it.'

‘And what of our neighbor being an illustrious vampire slayer? Did you also keep that from me to protect me? He was a gypsy orphan, taken in by my grandfather. I cannot believe you kept that from me, knowing full well I've an interest in vampire slaying.'

My master looked to me as if to ask why I would have provided such information on his enemy, but I shook my head, opening my hands to say I had provided no such information. I imagine it was Linton who had told that tale.

‘Mr. Heathcliff was quite cordial, Papa,' Miss Cathy continued. ‘And
he
didn't object to our seeing each other. He said I might come to his house when I pleased, only I must not tell you, because you had quarreled with him, and would not forgive him for marrying Aunt Isabella. And you won't.
You
are the one to be blamed. He is willing to let us be friends, at least Linton and I, and you are not.'

My master, perceiving that she would not take his word for her uncle-in-law's disposition, gave a hasty sketch of his conduct to Isabella, and the manner in which Wuthering Heights became his property. He could not bear to discourse long upon the topic, however, and he made no mention of Mr. Heathcliff's association with his own departed wife. ‘You will know hereafter, darling,' he concluded, ‘why I wish you to avoid his house and family. Besides, it is not safe for you to travel these roads. There are still vampires about.'

I saw the look on her face and knew she was tempted to tell her father of her encounter with the vampire, but she held her tongue for once, and I, not wishing at my age to seek new employment, kept mine as well.

‘Now, return to your old employments and amusements,' he directed her, ‘and think no more about them!'

Catherine kissed her father and sat down quietly to attend her lessons, but that evening, when she had retired to her room and I went to help her undress, I found her crying.

‘Oh, silly child!' I exclaimed. ‘If you had any real griefs, you'd be ashamed to waste a tear on this little contrariety.'

‘I'm not crying for myself, Nelly,' she answered. ‘It's for Linton. He expected to see me again tomorrow, and he'll be so disappointed. He'll wait for me, and I shan't come!'

‘Nonsense!' said I. ‘Do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you have of him? Hasn't he Hareton for a companion? Linton will conjecture how it is, and trouble himself no further about you.'

‘But may I not write a note to tell him why I cannot come?' she asked, rising to her feet. ‘And just send those books I promised to lend him? May I not, Nelly?'

‘No, indeed! No, indeed!' replied I with decision. ‘Then he would write to you, and there'd never be an end of it. No, Miss Cathy, the acquaintance must be dropped entirely. It's what your papa expects, and I shall see that it is done.'

‘But how can one little note—'

‘Silence!' I interrupted. ‘We'll not begin with your little notes. Get into bed.'

She threw at me a very naughty look, so naughty that I would not kiss her good night at first. I covered her up and shut her door in great displeasure, but, repenting halfway, I returned softly, and there was Miss, standing at the table with a bit of blank paper before her and a pencil in her hand, which she guiltily slipped out of sight on my re-entrance.

‘You'll get nobody to take that, Catherine,' I said sternly. ‘Unless you intend to summon that she-beastie to carry it for you.'

The letter was finished anyway and forwarded to its destination, not by a vampire letter-carrier, but by a milk-fetcher who came from the village, but that I didn't learn till some time afterward. Weeks passed on, and Cathy recovered her temper, though she grew wondrous fond of stealing off to corners by herself. Often, if I came near her suddenly while reading, she would start and bend over the book, evidently desirous to hide it. I detected edges of loose paper sticking out beyond the leaves.