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Authors: Sarah Gray

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Chapter 17

T
hat Friday she was buried—the last pleasant day for a month. Just as Catherine was laid in her grave, the weather broke, the wind shifted from south to northeast, and brought rain, then sleet and snow.

After the burial, my master kept to his room and I took possession of the lonely parlor, converting it into a nursery. There I was sitting, with the moaning doll of a child laid on my knee, rocking it to and fro, watching the still-driving flakes behind the uncurtained window, when the door opened and some person entered, out of breath and laughing!

My anger was greater than my astonishment for a minute. I supposed it was one of the maids, and I cried—‘How dare you show your giddiness here? What would Mr. Linton say if he heard you?'

‘Excuse me!' answered a familiar voice. ‘But I know Edgar is in bed, and I cannot stop myself.'

With that, the speaker came forward to the fire, panting and holding her hand to her side. ‘I have run the whole way from Wuthering Heights!' she continued, after a pause. ‘I couldn't count the number of falls I've had. Oh, I'm aching all over! Don't be alarmed! There shall be an explanation as soon as I can give it. Just have the goodness to step out and order the carriage to take me on to Gimmerton, and tell a servant to seek up a few clothes in my wardrobe.'

Nelly paused for effect. “The intruder was Mrs. Heathcliff.”

“Mistress Isabella? Heathcliff's wife?” I asked.

Nelly nodded. She certainly seemed in no laughing predicament. Her hair streamed on her shoulders, dripping with snow and water. The frock she wore was of light silk, and clung to her, wet. Though she wore a thin silk scarf around her neck, she could not hide the telltale signs of bites on her neck, but I could not tell how recent they were.

‘Were you bitten, my dear young lady?' I exclaimed, rising to place the babe in an egg basket, for she was still too small to be left floating around in a proper bassinet.

“No eggs remained, you understand, sir, just a nice bed of straw. Saved on the nappies, you see.”

“Yes, yes,” I said, impatiently, “but what of Mistress Heathcliff?”

But Nelly went on, telling the story in her own way, scarce seeming to hear my question.

I questioned the bites on Isabella's neck because from what folks in the village said, there were presently no vampires for miles around. Heathcliff had slaughtered them all. I had heard from the fishmonger's wife that her cousin had seen a place along the road to Gimmerton where the heads of dozens of vampires had been put on pikes for all to see, human and vampire, but I had not had the opportunity to go see for myself yet.

But when I asked Isabella about the bites, she adjusted the scarf at her neck and replied, ‘Mind your station and see about the carriage.'

I tried not to stare at her throat, sir. If Master Heathcliff had done in the bloodsuckers, who had savaged the dear lady? I tried to remember my place, but it did worry me some. I'd walked out to that church that past week without my garlic poultice. Was it possible some new infestation had swept over our moors? But bitter or not, she was a lady and sister to the master of this house, and I knew my duty to my betters.

‘I'll go nowhere till you have removed every article of your clothes, and put on dry things. And certainly you shall not go to Gimmerton tonight, so it is needless to order the carriage.'

‘I shall go,' she said. ‘Walking or riding. My husband has gone mad and I wish to get as far from him as possible, as quickly as possible.'

‘Mad?' I asked. ‘So it is true? What I've heard?'

‘I don't know what you've heard, Nelly. All I know is that day after day he has returned to the Heights soaked in the bloodsuckers' gore. He is more terrifying now than he was previously. He does not sleep, he does not eat. He only paces, crying out, moaning, and sometimes scratching at his face. Even Joseph fears him. Now see to my carriage, else I'll not speak another word to you.'

They were orders, you see, orders I could think of no way to get around, so I instructed the coachman to get ready and sent a maid to pack up some necessary attire, and then returned to Isabella. I found her staring down at the poor infant with such a look in her eyes that it sent icicles sliding down my spine. I vow, sir, did I not know her and how gentle a lady she was, I would have thought she meant harm to the motherless mite.

‘Could you not put poor Catherine's baby away?' she asked when I returned. ‘I don't like to see it! You mustn't think I care little for Catherine; I've cried, too, bitterly—yes, more than anyone else has reason to cry. We parted unreconciled, you remember, and I shan't forgive myself. But, for all that, I was not going to sympathize with him—the brute beast! Give me the poker!'

I stepped between her and the wailing babe, for it had awakened and was screaming or as close to screaming as it could manage. Mrs. Heathcliff reached around me and grabbed the poker, and I threw up my arms to protect my head from certain doom, but she meant neither me, nor the wee scrap, harm.

‘This is the last thing of his I have about me,' she cried. She slipped the gold ring from her third finger and threw it on the floor. ‘I'll smash it!' she continued, striking it with childish spite, ‘and then I'll burn it!' She dropped the misused article among the coals.

‘He shall buy another, if he gets me back again. He'd be capable of coming to seek me, to tease Edgar—I dare not say, lest that notion should possess his wicked head! And besides, Edgar has not been kind, has he? And I won't come suing for his assistance. Necessity compelled me to seek shelter here; though, if I had not learnt my brother was upstairs, I'd have just kept running, running anywhere out of reach of my accursed—of that incarnate goblin! Ah, he was in such a fury last I saw him! If he had caught me! It's a pity Earnshaw is not his match in strength. I wouldn't have run till I'd seen him done for, had Hindley been able to do it!'

‘Don't talk so fast, miss!' I interrupted. ‘Drink your tea, and take a breath.'

‘Listen to that screeching, more hedgehog than child! It maintains a constant wail—send it out of my hearing for an hour. I shan't stay any longer.'

I rang the bell and committed the babe to a servant's care, and then I inquired how she escaped from Wuthering Heights, and where she meant to go.

‘I wish I could remain,' answered she. ‘To cheer Edgar and take care of the baby, and because the Grange is my right home. But I tell you, Heathcliff wouldn't let me! Do you think he could bear to see me grow fat and merry? When I enter his presence, the muscles of his countenance are involuntarily distorted into an expression of hatred. It is strong enough to make me feel pretty certain that he would not chase me over England, and therefore I must get quite away. I've recovered from my first desire to be killed by him. I'd rather he'd kill himself! He has extinguished my love effectually, and so I'm at my ease. Even if he had doted on me, the devilish nature would have revealed its existence somehow. Catherine had an awfully perverted taste to esteem him so dearly, knowing him so well. Knowing what a monster he was!'

‘Hush, hush! He's a human being,' I said. I don't mind saying that by then, I had my doubts, but none I would put to words.

‘He's
not
a human being,' she retorted. ‘There is your mistake. I don't know what he is, but it's not human!'

‘Is…has he become a vampire?' I questioned.

‘I do not know what he is, for he slays them one minute, then talks of pitying them the next. It is enough to make one mad. Nelly, you asked what has driven me to flight at last? I was compelled to attempt it because I had succeeded in rousing his rage a pitch above his malignity.

‘Yesterday, you know, Mr. Earnshaw should have been at the funeral. He kept himself sober for the purpose—tolerably sober. He did not play cards with the beasties, because they, of course, are dead or have fled. Consequently, he rose, in suicidal low spirits, as fit for the church as for a dance, and instead, he sat down by the fire and swallowed gin or brandy by tumblerfuls.

‘Yester-evening I sat in my nook reading some old books near midnight. It seemed so dismal to go upstairs, with the wild snow blowing outside, and my thoughts continually reverting to the new-made grave! I dared hardly lift my eyes from the page before me, that melancholy scene so instantly usurped its place.

‘Hindley sat opposite, his head leant on his hand, perhaps meditating on the same subject. He had ceased drinking at a point below irrationality, and had neither stirred nor spoken during two or three hours. The doleful silence was broken at length by the sound of the kitchen latch. Heathcliff had returned from his vampire hunting earlier than usual, owing, I supposed, to the sudden storm. That entrance was fastened, and we heard him coming round to get in by the other.

‘ “You, and I,” Hindley said, “have each a great debt to settle with that man. You, perhaps more than me, for he has done so foul to you. But, if neither of us are cowards, we might combine to discharge it. Are you as soft as your brother? Are you willing to endure to the last, and not once attempt a repayment?”

‘ “I'd be glad of a retaliation that wouldn't recoil on myself, but treachery and violence wound those who resort to them, worse than their enemies.”

‘ “Treachery and violence are a just return for treachery and violence!” cried Hindley. “Mrs. Heathcliff, I'll ask you to do nothing but sit still and be dumb. Tell me now, can you? I'm sure you would have as much pleasure as I in witnessing the conclusion of the fiend's existence. He'll be
your
death sooner rather than later from the looks of you—” '

‘From the looks of you!' I interrupted her, eyeing her neck again. I was completely confused by what she was saying and wondered if she was, indeed, already half mad.

‘Hush, and listen, Nelly. Hindley said, “Unless you overreach him and he'll be
my
ruin. Damn the hellish villain! He knocks at the door as if he were master here already! Promise to hold your tongue, and before that clock strikes, you're a free woman!”

‘He took the weapon that I described to you in my letter from his breast, and would have turned down the candle. I snatched the candle away, however, and seized his arm.

‘ “I'll not hold my tongue!” I said. “You mustn't touch him. Let the door remain shut, and be quiet!”

‘ “No! I've formed my resolution, and by God, I'll execute it!” cried the desperate being. “I'll do you a kindness in spite of yourself, and Hareton justice!”

‘I might as well have struggled with a bear, or reasoned with a lunatic, Nelly. The only resource left me was to run to a window and warn his intended victim of the fate that awaited him.

‘ “You'd better seek shelter somewhere else tonight!” I exclaimed in a rather triumphant tone. “Mr. Earnshaw has a mind to shoot you, if you persist in endeavoring to enter.”

‘ “Shoot me? And he thinks that will kill me? I wish it were only so.”

‘I don't know what he meant by that, Nelly, but I did not care. I only did not want to be part of a murder.

‘ “You'd better open the door, you—” Heathcliff answered, addressing me by some elegant term that I don't care to repeat.

‘With that I shut the window and returned to my place by the fire.

‘Earnshaw swore passionately at me, affirming that I loved the villain and calling me all sorts of names. And I, in secret heart, thought what a blessing it would be for
him,
should Heathcliff put him out of misery. And what a blessing for
me,
should he send Heathcliff to his right abode! As I sat nursing these reflections, the casement window behind me was banged onto the floor by a blow from Heathcliff. He thrust his head through the opening. His hair and clothes were whitened with snow, and his sharp cannibal teeth, revealed by cold and wrath, gleamed through the dark.

‘ “Isabella, let me in, or I'll make you repent!” he threatened.

‘ “I cannot commit murder,” I replied. “Hindley stands sentinel with a knife and loaded pistol.”

‘ “Let me in by the kitchen door,” he said.

‘ “Hindley will be there before me,” I answered. “Heathcliff, if I were you, I'd go stretch myself over Catherine's grave and die like a faithful dog. The world is surely not worth living in now, is it? You had distinctly impressed on me the idea that Catherine was the whole joy of your life. I can't imagine how you think of surviving her loss.”

‘Heathcliff then flung himself through the window, meeting with Earnshaw, who brandished his weapon. The charge exploded, and the knife, in springing back, closed into its owner's wrist. Heathcliff pulled it from Hindley's grasp and thrust it, bloody, into his pocket. His adversary had fallen senseless with excessive pain, and the flow of blood that gushed from an artery or a large vein.

‘The ruffian kicked and trampled on him, and dashed his head repeatedly against the flag-stones, then tore off the sleeve of Earnshaw's coat and bound up the wound with brutal roughness.

‘I rushed to see if I could give aid, but Heathcliff pushed me back.

‘ “I nearly forgot you,” said the tyrant. “You conspire with him against me, do you, viper?”

‘He shook me till my teeth rattled, and pitched me beside the unconscious Hindley. To my joy, he then left us, and I departed to my own room, marveling that I had escaped so easily.

‘This morning, when I came down about half an hour before noon, Mr. Earnshaw was sitting by the fire, deadly sick. I ventured to draw near the fire, going round Earnshaw's seat, and kneeled in the corner beside him.

‘Heathcliff did not glance my way, and I contemplated his features almost as confidently as if they had been turned to stone. His forehead, that I once thought so manly, and that I now think so diabolical, was shaded with a heavy cloud. His basilisk eyes were nearly quenched by sleeplessness—and weeping, perhaps, for his lashes were wet. His lips, devoid of their ferocious sneer, were sealed in an expression of unspeakable sadness. Had it been another, I would have covered my face in the presence of such grief. In
his
case, I was gratified. I couldn't miss this chance of sticking in a dart; his weakness was the only time when I could taste the delight of paying wrong for wrong.'

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