Wuthering Heights

Chapter 17

"Well, I met a boy on the road who was fetching milk here," she stammered, "and he asked me if there was any trouble at Thrushcross Grange. I thought he meant the wife's illness, and answered, Yes Yeah. Then he said, 'Somebody's chasing them, I suppose?' A horse was shoed in a blacksmith's shop two miles away. It was not long after midnight! How the blacksmith's girl got up and peeped who they were: she recognized them at once. She found that the man was Heathcliff, she was sure, no one would mistake him, and he slipped a gold pound into her father's hand for wages. The lady covered her face with a cloak. But she wanted water, a drink, the cloak fell back, and she saw her very well. As they rode away, Heathcliff took the reins of both horses in his hand, and they ran off with their faces turned away from the village, the rough They ran as fast as the roads would let them run. The girl said nothing to her father, but she told it all over Gimmerton this morning."

I rushed into Isabella's room, and looked around for the sake of show.When I came back, I confirmed that the maid's words were true.Mr. Linton had already sat down in his chair beside the bed, and when I came back he raised his eyes and read the meaning in my bewildered expression.He lowered his eyes without giving an order, not even a word.

"Should we find a way to catch up and bring her back?" I asked, "What should we do?"

"She is going by herself," replied the host. "If she wants, she has the right to leave. From now on, she is just my sister in name, not because I abandoned her, but because she abandoned me."

That was all he had to say about the matter.He never asked a word, never mentioned her again, in any way, but assigned me to send the property she owned in this home to her new home, wherever it is, once I know her new home.

Two months passed, and there was no news of those who fled.For two months, Mrs. Linton suffered and overcame the most violent blows that people call fever of the head.Edgar cared for her more than any mother cared for her only child.Standing aside day and night, patiently bearing all the resentment that excited nerves and broken sanity can arouse.And, although Kenneth said that the people he rescued from the grave would reward him with nothing but endless troubles later—in fact, he sacrificed his health and energy to save no more than a cripple ——When he heard that Catherine's life was out of danger, he still felt infinite joy.Hour after hour he would sit by her side, watching her physical recovery step by step, nourishing his overly optimistic hopes, imagining that her spirit would also be restored to normal, that she would soon be Transform back into her former self.

The first time she left the bedroom was at the beginning of March of that year.In the morning Mr. Linton put a handful of saffron on her pillow.Her eyes had not seen even a little bit of cheerfulness for a long time. When she woke up and saw the flowers, her eyes immediately shone with happiness.She quickly gathered the flowers together.

"This is the earliest tweed that bloomed at Wuthering Heights," she exclaimed in surprise. "They remind me of a warm wind, a warm sun, and snow that is about to melt. Edgar, is there no southerly wind outside? Has the snow all melted?"

"The snow is almost over here, my dear," replied her husband. "The whole moor. All I can see are two white spots. The sky is blue, the larks are singing, and the brooks are full. Catherine, I was expecting you to come here at this time last spring." Come to the house. Now, I wish you would go a mile or two up these hills. The breeze blows so sweetly, I think it will cure you."

"There I can go only once, and then never again," the patient said. "Then you will leave me, and I will stay there forever. Next spring you will look forward to my coming to this house again, and you will look back on the past and feel that today is a happy day."

Linton poured his tenderest caresses upon her, and delighted her with the most affectionate words.However, she just stared blankly at the flowers, letting the tears coalesce on her eyelashes, unknowingly they trickled down her cheeks all the way.

We know that she is indeed better, and, therefore, are convinced that her long confinement in one place has largely contributed to her being so depressed.So if you change places, your mood will probably improve.

The master asked me to hold the lamp in the living room, which had been turned off for several weeks, and put an easy chair in the sunlight by the window.Then he brought her down, and she sat there for a while, enjoying the warmth.And, as we expected, looking at things around her also lifted her spirits.These things, too, were familiar, free from the gloom that filled her hateful ward.By night, she seemed exhausted.But no matter what anyone said, she couldn't persuade her to return to the bedroom.I had to lay out the sofa in the living room for her bed until the other room was ready for her.

In order to spare you the trouble of going up and down the stairs, we have tidied up this room, the one where you are lying now, which is on the same floor as the living room.She was soon well enough to walk from room to room, leaning on Linton's arm.

Ah, I thought to myself that she would recover, with such good care.And there was double reason to look forward to her recovery, for in her life lay another life.We fervently hope that Mr. Linton's heart will soon be filled with joy, that an heir will be born who will keep his estate from being usurped by a stranger.

I should mention that Isabella sent a note to her brother announcing her marriage to Heathcliff six weeks after her absence.The letter seemed dry and cold, but penciled at the bottom was a vague apology, a greeting, a request for reconciliation, should her earlier conduct offend him.She claimed that she was involuntary at the time, and when things were done, she was powerless to repent.

I believe Linton did not reply.More than half a month later, I received a long letter from the pen of a bride who had just finished her honeymoon, and I found it quite strange.I'm going to read the letter now, because I still have it.The things left by the dead should always be cherished, and if they lived they would be unforgettable.

Dear Allen, this is how the letter begins.

I came to Wuthering Heights last night. It was the first time I heard that Catherine was and is still very ill.Surely I can't write to her, I thought.Besides, my brother was either very angry or sullen, and would not reply to my letters to him.However, I have to write to someone, and my only choice is you.

Tell Edgar that I would give all I have in this world to see him again.My heart went back to him 24 hours after I left Thrushcross Grange, and he was still there.Filled with longing thoughts of him and Catherine!But I can't do whatever I want (these words are underlined), they don't have to expect me, they can draw whatever conclusions they want.But take care not to offend my feeble will, or my blind passions.

The rest of the letter is written for you alone.I want to ask you two questions.the first is:

When you lived here, how did you try to preserve the compassion that is part of human nature?I really don't see that the people around me share any common feelings with me.

The second question is of great concern to me.This is--

Is Heathcliff alone?If so, is he crazy?If not, is he a devil?I don't want to say why I ask this question.But I beg you to point out, if you can, I'm married to something.I mean, tell me when you come to see me.You must come, Ellen, come quickly.Don't write, just come and bring me a word from Edgar.

Now, listen to what happened to me in my new home, because I can't help but imagine that this mountain villa is my new home.If I dwell on topics such as lack of material comforts, I'm just kidding myself.They never occupied my thoughts except when I missed comfort.If I found out that the whole source of my suffering was the lack of material comforts, and the rest was just a big inexplicable dream, I would really laugh out loud with joy!

The sun was already setting behind Thrushcross Grange as we entered the moor.From this, I figured it was six o'clock.My companion stayed for half an hour to inspect the grounds and gardens, and, perhaps, the place itself, to see as much as he could.So by the time we dismounted in the cobbled yard of the farmhouse, night had fallen.Your old partner Joseph came out to meet us by the light of a candle.His reception was thoughtful and courteous, enough to make his reputation even brighter.His first move was to raise the candle lamp to be level with my face, give me a vicious look with slanted eyes, and pouted his lower lip before turning around and walking away.

Then he led the two horses into the stable, and came out again to lock the outer gate, as if we were living in an old castle.

Heathcliff stayed to talk to him, and I went into the kitchen, a smoky, unkempt cavern.I bet you wouldn't recognize it, because it's changed so much since you left.

Standing by the stove was a vicious child, with well-developed limbs and filthy clothes, with the same look in his eyes and mouth as Catherine.

"It's Linton's nephew," I thought, "so it's mine. I've got to shake his hand, yes, yes, I've got to kiss him. Get to know each other a lot from the first." , as it should be.”

I stepped forward, intending to shake his plump fist.

"how are you dear?"

He answered me with a grunt, but I couldn't understand him.

"Can you and I be friends, Hareton?" were the second words of my endeavor.

A curse, a burst of threats, threatening to "get the hell out" or he will release a choke and bite me, this is the reward of my kindness.

"Hey, choke, boy!" whispered the little rascal, calling the bulldog out of its lair in the corner. "Now, are you going or not?" He said domineeringly.

I cherish my life, only obedience.I stepped over the threshold and waited for someone else to come in.Heathcliff was gone, and Joseph, I followed him to the stables, and asked him to accompany me into the house, he stared at me, muttered to himself, and then wrinkled his nose and replied:
"Meow! Meow! Meow! Have any Christians heard such words? Put on airs! How do I know what you're talking about?"

"I said, I want you to come with me to the house!" I cried, thinking he had something wrong with his ears, and at the same time hating his rudeness.

"No way! I have other things to do," he answered, going about his business, shaking his lantern chin, and looking over my dress and face with the most contemptuous air.Although the clothes are too elegant, but the appearance, I have no doubt that there is as much sadness as he is willing to see.

I went round the yard, through a side door, and came to another door, which I dared to knock, hoping that one of the more courteous servants might show up.

I waited in fear for a while, and a tall, thin man opened the door. He was not wearing a scarf and was otherwise filthy.His face was hidden in a mass of matted hair that fell down to his shoulders.His eyes, too, were like Catherine's ghost, only all the beauty, gone.

"What are you doing here?" he asked viciously. "Who are you?"

"I am Isabella Linton," I answered. "You've seen me before, sir. I recently married Mr. Heathcliff, and he brought me here—with your permission, I think."

"He's back, so?" asked the hermit, his eyes widening like a wolf's.

"Yes—we're just here," I said. "But he left me at the kitchen door and ran away. I was about to go in, and your boy was guarding there, and he called a bulldog to scare me away."

"The fiendish rascal does what he says!" growled my future master, scanning the darkness behind me, expecting to spot Heathcliff.Then he cursed fiercely in his own words, vowing that if the "evil spirit" deceived him, he would do so.

I regretted why I used the second entrance's brains. Before his curse came to an end, I had the heart to slip away.But before I could escape, he ordered me in, shut the door with a slam, and bolted it again.

There was a great fire burning in the fireplace, and the fire was all the light in the big room.The floor had become gray, and the once gleaming dishes of solder that I had gaped at as a girl were also smoky and gray, also darkened.

I asked if I could call a maid and ask her to take me to my bedroom?Mr. Earnshaw gave me no answer.With his hands in his pockets, he walked back and forth, obviously forgetting about my existence.He was so single-minded, with such a world-weary look on his face, I really didn't dare to bother him anymore.

Alan, you won't be surprised that I feel particularly unhappy, sitting by the fireplace as an unwelcome person is more uncomfortable than being alone.I remembered that my lovely home was four miles away.Live with the people I love in this world.But there seemed to be the Atlantic between us instead of these four miles.I can't get past them!I asked myself, where do I go for comfort?And--please don't tell Edgar or Catherine--of all my troubles, the saddest thing is that I can't find anyone to ally with me against Heathcliff, despair!

I was almost glad that I had found a safe haven at Wuthering Heights, because it saved me from having to live alone with him.But he is familiar with the people around us, and he is not afraid of them meddling in our business.

I sat and thought sadly for a while.The clock strikes eight or nine, but my companion is still walking over and over.His head was lowered to his chest, and there was no sound at all, except for a moan now and then, or a sad hum, which came out because he couldn't bear it.

I listened intently to hear if there was a woman's voice in the house, while my heart was filled with frenzied regrets and doleful omens, until at last, unable to restrain myself, I uttered a cry.

I did not realize how sad I was until Earnshaw stopped him.Standing in front of me, as if waking up from a big dream, he stared at me in surprise. When he came back to his senses, I shouted loudly:

"I'm tired from walking, I'm going to bed! Where is the maid? Since she doesn't want to come, take me to her!"

"We have no maids," he replied. "You have to serve yourself!"

"Then where should I sleep?" I sobbed, my self-esteem all forgotten, suppressed by exhaustion and sleepiness.

"Joseph will take you to Heathcliff's bedroom," he said. "Open that door—he's there."

I was about to obey when he seized me suddenly, and continued in the strangest tone:

"Be careful to fasten the door, fasten the bolt, and don't forget!"

"Good!" I said. "Why, Mr. Earnshaw?" I didn't appreciate locking myself up with Heathcliff.

"Look here!" he replied, drawing from his vest a curiously constructed pistol with a switchblade mounted in the barrel. "That's a great temptation for a desperate man, isn't it? I can't help myself from going upstairs with this thing every night and pushing his bedroom door. If I ever find it open , he's finished! Nothing will change me from doing this, even 1 minute ago, I could think of a hundred reasons for me to endure. There is a devil urging me to kill him and destroy my own plans. You out of Love will resist the devil as long as it can; but when the time comes, all the angels in heaven will not be able to save him!"

I examined the weapon curiously, and a dreadful thought came to me: How powerful it would be if I had such a thing!I took the gun from him and felt the blade.He was puzzled by the momentary look on my face; it wasn't fear, but envy.Out of jealousy, he snatched the pistol back, took the knife back, and hid it again.

"I'm not afraid of you telling him," he said, "to keep him on the alert and stand guard for him. You know our quarrel, I see it, and his danger doesn't alarm you."

"What has Heathcliff done to you?" I asked. "How did he offend you, and provoke such a terrible hatred? Wouldn't it be wiser to tell him to leave the house?"

"No!" Earnshaw roared. "He dares to say leave me, and he is dead. You persuade him to try, you are a murderer! Should I lose everything and have no chance of getting it back? Should Hareton beg for money? Oh , damn him! I'll win him back, I'll take his gold, and his blood, let hell take his soul! With this guest, hell is darker than its darkest hour , it will be ten times darker!"

Ellen, you told me about the habits of your former master.He was clearly on the verge of madness.At least that's what he was last night.I trembled when I was near him, thinking that the servant's uneducated eccentricity made me feel better.

Then he began to pace sullenly again, and I lifted the latch and fled into the kitchen.

(End of this chapter)