Wuthering Bites (19 page)

‘There, Miss Cathy! You see you have got into pretty company,' I interposed. ‘Nice words to be used to a young lady! Pray don't begin to dispute with him. Come, let us be gone.'

‘But, Nelly,' cried she, staring, fixed in astonishment. ‘How dare he speak so to me? Mustn't he be made to do as I ask him? You wicked creature, I shall tell my papa what you said!'

Hareton did not appear to feel this threat, so the tears sprang into her eyes with indignation. ‘You bring the pony,' she exclaimed, turning to the woman.

‘Softly, miss,' answered the addressed. ‘You'll lose nothing by being civil. Though Mr. Hareton, there, be not the master's son, he's your cousin, and I was never hired to serve you.'

‘
He's
my cousin!' cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh.

‘Yes, indeed.'

‘Oh, Nelly! Don't let them say such things,' she pursued in great trouble. ‘Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London. My cousin is a gentleman's son.'

‘Hush, hush!' I whispered. ‘People can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it, only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.'

‘He's not—he's not my cousin, Nelly!' she went on, gathering fresh grief from reflection, and flinging herself into my arms for refuge from the idea.

Hareton, recovering from his disgust at being taken for a servant, seemed moved by her distress and fetched the pony round to the door. He then took to her a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from the kennel, and putting it into her hand, apologized haltingly. Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with a glance of awe and horror, then burst into tears again.

I could scarcely refrain from smiling at her reaction to the poor fellow who was a well-made, athletic youth. He was good looking in features, and stout and healthy, but attired in clothing befitting a man on the farm, and lounging among the moors after rabbits and game. Still, I thought I could detect in his character better qualities than his father ever possessed. Mr. Heathcliff, I believe, had not treated him physically ill, though he appeared to have bent his malevolence on making him a brute. The young man was never taught to read or write, never rebuked for any bad habit that did not annoy his keeper; never led a single step toward virtue, or guarded by a single precept against vice.

I don't pretend to be intimately acquainted with the mode of living customary in those days at Wuthering Heights. I only speak from hearsay, for I saw little. The villagers affirmed Mr. Heathcliff was near, and a cruel, hard landlord to his tenants, but the house, inside, had regained its ancient aspect of comfort under female management, and of course, vampires did not come to call as they once had. Mr. Heathcliff had put an end to that the night they attacked his beloved Catherine.

None of this surprised me, however. What did surprise me was the rumor that on occasion villagers swore they saw Heathcliff at night stalking about the town, hiding in the shadows, watching them. And he still returned regularly to Catherine's grave, where they say he sobbed and moaned and put up such a racket that everyone avoided the kirkyard road at night.

This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathy rejected the peace offering of the terrier, and we set out for home, sadly out of sorts, every one of us.

I could not wring from my little lady how she had spent the day, except that, as I supposed, the goal of her pilgrimage had been Penistone Crags. When she arrived without adventure (beyond a possible sighting of vampires on horses in the distance, led by a great dark one, she claimed) to the gate of Wuthering Heights, Hareton happened to issue forth, attended by some canine followers, who attacked her dogs.

They had a smart battle before their owners could separate them, and that formed an introduction. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where she was going, and asked him to show her the way, beguiling him to accompany her.

He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave, and twenty other queer places such as old vampire dens and a stray pike or two where Mr. Heathcliff liked to display the heads of those he had murdered. Apparently, Hareton did not disclose who the mighty hero was, only that he was a gypsy slayer of great fame.

I gathered that Hareton and the miss had gotten along well until the very moment she had hurt his feelings by addressing him as a servant and Heathcliff's housekeeper hurt hers by calling him her cousin.

I explained to my charge that her papa objected to the whole household at the Heights, and that he would be quite upset to learn she had been there. I dwelled most on the fact that, if she revealed my negligence of his orders, he would perhaps be so angry that I should have to leave. Fortunately, Cathy couldn't bear that prospect and she pledged her word, and kept it, for my sake. After all, she was a sweet little girl.

A
letter announced the day of my master's return. Isabella was dead, and he wrote to bid me get mourning for his daughter and arrange a room, and other accommodations, for his youthful nephew.

Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father back, and indulged most optimistic anticipations of the innumerable excellences of her ‘real' cousin.

The evening of their expected arrival came. Since early morning, she had been busy ordering her own small affairs, and now, attired in her new black frock, she obliged me to walk with her down through the grounds to meet them.

‘Linton is just six months younger than I am,' she chattered as we strolled leisurely over the swells and hollows of mossy turf, under shadow of the trees. ‘How delightful it will be to have him for a playfellow! Aunt Isabella sent Papa a beautiful lock of his hair. It is very dark and quite fine. I have it carefully preserved in a little glass box and I've often thought what pleasure it would be to see its owner. Oh! I am happy—and Papa, dear, dear Papa! Come, Nelly, let us run!'

She ran, and returned and ran again, many times before my sober footsteps reached the gate, and then she seated herself on the grassy bank beside the path and tried to wait patiently. That was impossible, of course; she couldn't be still a minute.

‘When will they be here? May we not go a little way—half a mile, Nelly? Only just half a mile? Do say yes, to that clump of birches at the turn!'

I refused staunchly, and, at length, her suspense was ended. The traveling carriage rolled in sight.

Miss Cathy shrieked and stretched out her arms, as soon as she caught her father's face looking from the window. He descended, nearly as eager as herself, and a considerable interval elapsed before they tore themselves from each other's arms.

While they exchanged caresses I took a peep of Linton. He was asleep in a corner, wrapped in a warm, fur-lined cloak as if it had been winter. A pale, delicate, effeminate boy, with inky black hair, I had no doubt he was Heathcliff's spawn.

Mr. Linton advised me to close the door and leave the boy undisturbed, for the journey had fatigued him. Cathy wanted to see him, too, but her father told her to come on, and they walked together up the park. Meanwhile, I hastened home to prepare the servants.

‘Now, darling,' said Mr. Linton, addressing his daughter, as they halted at the bottom of the front steps. ‘Your cousin is not so strong or so merry as you are, and he has just lost his mother. Don't expect him to play and run about with you, at first. And don't harass him by talking too much. Let him be quiet this evening, at least, will you?'

‘Yes, yes, Papa,' answered Catherine. ‘But I do want to see him.'

The carriage stopped, and the boy, being roused, was lifted to the ground by his uncle. ‘This is your cousin Cathy, Linton,' he said, putting their little hands together. ‘She's fond of you already, and mind you don't grieve her by crying tonight. The traveling is at an end, and you have nothing to do but rest and amuse yourself as you please.'

‘Let me go to bed, then.' Young Linton shrank from Catherine's salute and put his fingers to his eyes to remove incipient tears.

‘Come, come, there's a good child,' I whispered, leading him in. ‘You'll make her weep, too—see how sorry she is for you!'

I proceeded to remove Linton's cap and mantle, and placed him on a chair by the table where tea had been laid out, but he was no sooner seated than he began to cry again. My master inquired what was the matter.

‘I can't sit on a chair,' sobbed the boy.

‘Go to the sofa, then, and Nelly shall bring you some tea,' answered his uncle, patiently. He had been greatly tried during the journey, I felt convinced, by his fretful, ailing charge.

Linton slowly trailed himself off, and lay down. Cathy carried a footstool and her cup to his side. At first she sat silent, but that could not last, for she had resolved to make a pet of her little cousin. She commenced stroking his shiny black hair, and kissing his cheek, and offering him tea in her saucer like a baby. This pleased him; he dried his eyes and lightened into a faint smile.

‘Oh, he'll do very well,' said the master to me, after watching them a minute. ‘Very well, if we can keep him, Nelly. The company of a child of his own age will instill new spirit into him soon, and by wishing for strength he'll gain it.'

I must confide to you, Mr. Lockwood, that I did not like the looks of him, not from the time I first laid eyes on him. The color of his flesh, the pinch of his face. There was something about that boy that was unearthly, but most certainly not heavenly. I, of course, kept my thoughts to myself.

‘Aye, if we can keep him!' I told Mr. Edgar. Had it been my choice, I do not know if I would have allowed him to sleep one night under my roof, but I did wonder how a weakling like him would ever live at Wuthering Heights, between his father and Hareton? What playmates and instructors they would be.

Our doubts were presently decided—even earlier than I expected. I had just taken the children upstairs after tea and seen Linton asleep. He asked that I extinguish all light, but he did not want me to leave until he was asleep. An odd request, but I fulfilled it.

I had just come downstairs and was standing by the table in the hall, lighting a bedroom candle for Mr. Edgar, when a maid stepped out of the kitchen and informed me that Mr. Heathcliff's servant Joseph was at the door, and wished to speak with the master.

‘I shall ask him what he wants first,' I said, in considerable trepidation. ‘I don't think the master can see him tonight, not after such a long journey.'

Joseph had advanced through the kitchen as I uttered these words, and now presented himself in the hall. He was donned in his Sunday garments, with his most sanctimonious and sourest face, and, holding his hat in one hand and his stick in the other, he proceeded to clean his shoes on the mat. He was as deathly pale as the boy, and wearing the ridiculous scarf around his neck Isabella had spoken of.

‘Good evening, Joseph,' I said, coldly. ‘What business brings you here tonight?'

‘It's Master Linton I must speak to,' he answered, waving me disdainfully aside.

‘Mr. Linton is going to bed. Unless you have something particular to say, I'm sure he won't hear it now,' I continued. ‘You had better entrust your message to me.'

‘Which is his room?' pursued the fellow, surveying the range of closed doors.

I perceived he was bent on refusing my mediation, so very reluctantly I went up to the library and announced the unseasonable visitor, advising that he should be dismissed till the next day.

Mr. Linton had no time to respond, for Joseph mounted close at my heels and, pushing into the apartment, planted himself at the far side of the table, with his two fists clapped on the head of his stick. ‘Master Heathcliff has sent me for his lad.'

I do not know to this day how Heathcliff knew so quickly the boy was there, but I have my suspicions. The vampires, they had a way of communicating among themselves that could not be understood by us humans.

“The vampires!” I remarked, quite shocked. “But, Nelly, how—”

“You said I could tell the tale in my own manner, Mr. Lockwood, and so I shall,” she interrupted, raising a fore-finger as though to a naughty child.

I sat back, not pleased that I had been chastised by my housekeeper, but too eager to hear the tale to its end to protest further. “Please, Mrs. Dean, go on.”

Edgar Linton was silent a minute; an expression of exceeding sorrow overcast his features. He would have pitied the child on his own account, but, recalling Isabella's hopes and fears, he grieved bitterly at the prospect of yielding him up, and searched in his heart how it might be avoided. No plan offered itself; Heathcliff was the child's father. There was nothing left but to resign him. However, he was not going to rouse him from his sleep.

‘Tell Mr. Heathcliff,' he answered calmly, ‘that his son shall come to Wuthering Heights tomorrow. He is in bed, and too tired to go the distance now. You may also tell him that the mother of Linton desired him to remain under my guardianship, and, at present, his health is very precarious. He looks as if he needs a good platter of meat and tender care.'

‘No!' said Joseph, giving a thud with his prop on the floor, and assuming an authoritative air. ‘No! Heathcliff will have his lad and I will take him!'

‘You shall not tonight!' answered Mr. Linton decisively. ‘Walk downstairs at once, and repeat to your master what I have said. Nelly, show him down.' And, aiding the indignant elder with a lift by the arm, he rid the room of him and closed the door.

‘Very well!' shouted Joseph as he slowly drew off. ‘Till morn, and then my master will come for him himself!'

T
o preclude the danger of this threat being fulfilled, Mr. Linton sent me to take the boy home early, on Catherine's pony, and, said he—

‘As we shall now have no influence over his destiny, good or bad, you must say nothing of where he is gone to my daughter. She cannot associate with him hereafter, and it is better for her to remain in ignorance of his proximity. Otherwise, she will be anxious to visit the Heights. Just tell her his father sent for him suddenly, and he has been obliged to leave us.'

Linton was very reluctant to be roused from his bed at five o'clock, and astonished to be informed that he must prepare for further traveling. I softened off the matter by stating that he was going to spend some time with his father, Mr. Heathcliff, who wished to see him so much.

‘My father!' he cried. ‘Mamma never told me I had a father. Where does he live? I'd rather stay with Uncle.'

‘He lives a little distance from the Grange,' I replied. ‘Just beyond those hills, so you may walk over here when you get hearty. And you should be glad to go home, and to see him. You must try to love him, as you did your mother, and then he will love you.'

‘But why have I not heard of him before?' asked Linton. ‘Why didn't Mamma and he live together, as other people do?'

‘He had business to keep him in the north,' I answered. ‘And your mother's health required her to reside in the south.'

‘And why didn't Mamma speak to me about him?' persevered the child. ‘She often talked of Uncle, and I learnt to love him long ago. How am I to love Papa? I don't know him.'

‘Oh, all children love their parents,' I said. ‘Your mother, perhaps, thought you would want to be with him if she mentioned him often to you.'

‘Is
she
to go with us?' he demanded. ‘The little girl I saw yesterday?'

‘Not now,' replied I.

‘Is my uncle?' he continued.

‘I shall be your companion,' I said.

Linton sank back on his pillow. ‘I won't go without Uncle,' he cried. ‘I can't tell where you mean to take me.'

I attempted to persuade him of the naughtiness of showing reluctance to meet his father. Still, he obstinately resisted any progress toward dressing, and I had to call for my master's assistance in coaxing him out of bed.

The poor thing was finally got off with several assurances that his absence should be short. I said that Mr. Edgar and Cathy would visit him and made other promises, equally ill-founded, which I invented and reiterated at intervals on the ride over.

The pure heather-scented air, the bright sunshine, and the gentle canter of the horse relieved his despondency after a while. He began to put questions concerning his new home, and its inhabitants, with greater interest and liveliness.

‘Is Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrushcross Grange?' he inquired, turning to take a last glance into the valley, where a light mist mounted and formed a fleecy cloud on the skirts of the blue.

‘It is not so buried in trees,' I replied, keeping my eyes peeled for bloodsuckers. Cathy's insistence that she had seen them in the distance the day she escaped had me worried. I was especially concerned that she had noticed one in particular that sounded as if it greatly resembled Heathcliff.
Why would Heathcliff be riding with vampires on the moors?
I wondered as I continued to try to keep Linton calm.

‘Wuthering Heights is not so large as the Grange, but you can see the country beautifully, all round. And the air is healthier for you—fresher and dryer. You will, perhaps, think the building old and dark at first, but it is a respectable house. The next best in the neighborhood.'

‘And what is my father like?' he asked. ‘Is he as young and handsome as Uncle?'

‘He's as young,' said I. ‘But he has black hair and eyes, just like you, and is taller and bigger altogether than your uncle. He'll not seem to you so gentle and kind at first, perhaps, because it is not his way. Mind you to be cordial with him, and naturally he'll be fonder of you than any uncle, for you are his own.' My words sounded so true, I nearly had myself believing them.

‘How strange that he should never come to see Mamma and me!' he murmured. ‘Has he ever seen me? If he has, I must have been a baby—I remember not a single thing about him!'

‘Why, Master Linton,' said I, ‘three hundred miles is a great distance. And ten years seems very different in length to a grown-up person compared with what they do to you. It is probable Mr. Heathcliff proposed going, from summer to summer, but never found a convenient opportunity, and now it is too late. Don't trouble him with questions on the subject; it will do no one any good.'

The boy was fully occupied with his own cogitations for the remainder of the ride, till we halted before the farmhouse garden gate. I watched to catch his impressions in his countenance. He surveyed the carved front and the low-browed lattices, the straggling gooseberry bushes, and crooked firs, with solemn intentness, and then shook his head. It was obvious that he disapproved of the exterior of his new abode, but he had the sense to postpone complaining.

Before he dismounted, I went and opened the door. It was half past six and the family had just finished breakfast. The servant was clearing and wiping down the table. Joseph stood by his master's chair telling some tale concerning a lame horse, and Hareton was preparing for the hay field.

‘Hallo, Nelly!' cried Mr. Heathcliff when he saw me. ‘I feared I should have to come down and fetch my property myself. You've brought it, have you? Let us see what we can make of it.'

He got up and strode to the door. Hareton and Joseph followed in gaping curiosity. Poor Linton ran a frightened eye over the faces of the three.

Heathcliff, having stared at his son in an ague of confusion, uttered a scornful laugh. ‘God! What a beauty! What a lovely, charming thing!' he exclaimed. ‘Oh, damn my soul! but this is worse than I expected—and the devil knows I was not optimistic!'

I bid the trembling and bewildered child get down off the pony and enter. He did not thoroughly comprehend the meaning of his father's speech, or whether it was intended for him. Indeed, he was not yet certain that the grim, sneering stranger was his father. He clung to me, and on Mr. Heathcliff's taking a seat and bidding him ‘come hither,' he hid his face on my shoulder and wept.

‘Tut, tut!' said Heathcliff, stretching out a hand and dragging him roughly between his knees, and then holding up his head by the chin. ‘None of that nonsense! We're not going to hurt thee, Linton—isn't that thy name?'

He took off the boy's cap and pushed back his thick black hair, felt his slender arms and his small fingers. During the examination, Linton ceased crying and lifted his great black eyes to inspect the inspector.

‘Any odd behavior?' he asked me.

‘Sir?'

‘Never the mind. Do you know me?' asked Heathcliff, returning his attention to the lad, having satisfied himself that the limbs were all equally frail and feeble.

‘No,' said Linton, with a gaze of vacant fear.

‘You've heard of me, I dare say?'

‘No,' he replied again.

‘No? What a shame of your mother! You are my son, then, I'll tell you, and your mother was a wicked slut to leave you in ignorance of the sort of father you possessed. Now, don't wince and color up! Be a good lad and I'll see you're cared for. Nelly, if you're tired you may sit down; if not, get home. I'll guess you'll report what you hear, and see, at the Grange, and this thing won't be settled while you linger about it.'

‘Well,' replied I, ‘I do hope you'll be kind to the boy, Mr. Heathcliff, or you'll not keep him long. He's all you have akin in the wide world, that you will ever know—remember.'

‘I'll be very kind to him, you needn't fear,' he said, laughing. ‘Only nobody else must be kind to him; I'm jealous of monopolizing his affection. And, to begin my kindness, Joseph! bring the lad some breakfast. Hareton, you infernal calf, begone to your work. Yes, Nell,' he added when they had departed, ‘my son is prospective owner of your place, and I should not wish him to die till I was certain of being his successor. Besides, he's
mine,
and I want the triumph of seeing
my
descendant fairly lord of their estates. I want to see my child hiring their children to till their fathers' lands for wages. That is the sole consideration that can make me endure the whelp. I despise him for himself, and for the memories he revives! But that consideration is sufficient. He's as safe with me, and shall be tended as carefully as your master tends his own. I have a room upstairs, furnished for him in handsome style. I've engaged a tutor, also, to come three times a week, from twenty miles' distance, to teach him what he pleases to learn. I've ordered Hareton to obey him, and in fact I've arranged everything with a view to preserve the superior and the gentleman in him, above his associates. I do regret, however, that he so little deserves the trouble. If I wished any blessing in the world, it was to find him a worthy object of pride, and I'm bitterly disappointed with the whey-faced whining wretch!'

While he was speaking Joseph returned, bearing a basin of milk-porridge, and placed it before Linton. He stirred round the homely mess with a look of aversion, and affirmed he could not eat it.

I saw the old manservant shared largely in his master's scorn of the child, though he was compelled to retain the sentiment in his heart because Heathcliff plainly meant his underlings to hold him in honor.

‘Looks just like ye, God help his soul,' Joseph said, peering in Linton's face. ‘Guess we'll know soon enough.'

Know what?
I wanted to ask, but I bit my tongue, for as my master had said, the matter of the child was already out of our hands.

‘I
shan't
eat it!' Linton said snappishly, taking but one look in the bowl. ‘Take it away.'

Joseph snatched up the food indignantly and brought it to us. ‘Dare I ask 'im what his mother fed 'im?'

‘Don't mention his mother to me,' said the master angrily. ‘And keep your trap shut, Joseph, or you know the consequences.' He looked at me with a black scowl. ‘What is his usual food, Nelly?'

I suggested boiled milk or tea, and the housekeeper received instructions to prepare some. Having no excuse for lingering longer, I slipped out while Linton was engaged in timidly rebuffing the advances of a semifriendly sheepdog. But as I closed the door, I heard a cry, and a frantic repetition of the words—

‘Don't leave me! I'll not stay here! I'll not stay here!'

Then the latch was raised and fell and he was barred from following me, and so my brief guardianship ended.