have a long chatter till bedtime.’
I waited, but getting no answer, left him. Catherine supped with her brother and sister-in-law; Joseph and I joined at an unsociable meal, seasoned with his reproofs on one side and sauciness on the other. He seemed in even a fouler mood than usual, though why, I did not know. He kept glancing at the door, as if expecting a visitor. What I would not know until later was that he had been, the very same unfortunate visitor Heathcliff had just run off. But that is another story.
Cathy sat up late, preparing for the reception of her new friends; she came into the kitchen once to speak to her old one, but Heathcliff was gone. She only stayed to ask what was the matter with him, and then went back.
In the morning he rose early and disappeared into the moors. Seeking the female vampire I had seen the night before? I wondered. He did not reappear till the family were departed for church. Heathcliff’s time away from the house seemed to have brought him to a better spirit. He hung about me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed—
‘Nelly, make me decent. Make me acceptable in appearance so I do not distress Cathy any further.’
‘High time, Heathcliff,’ I said. ‘You have grieved Catherine; she’s sorry she ever came home, I dare say! It looks as if you envied her because she is more thought of than you.’
The notion of envying Catherine was incomprehensible to him, but the notion of grieving her he understood clearly enough.
‘Did she say she was grieved?’ he inquired, looking very serious.
‘She cried when I told her you were off again this morning.’
‘Well, I cried last night,’ he returned, ‘and I had more reason to cry than she.’
‘Yes, you had the reason of going to bed with a proud heart and an empty stomach,’ said I. ‘Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. And now, though I have dinner to get ready, I’ll steal time to arrange you so that Edgar Linton shall look quite a doll beside you. You are younger, and yet, I’ll be bound, you are taller and twice as broad across the shoulders. You could knock him down in a twinkling.’
Heathcliff’s face brightened a moment, then it was overcast afresh, and he sighed. ‘But, Nelly, if I knocked him down twenty times, that wouldn’t make him less handsome or me more so.’
‘Perhaps you could defend us from a vampire so as to demonstrate your admirable skills and make a fool of Edgar Linton. You could bid return that woman creature you had in the barn and then send her on her way again with a fine thrust of a pitchfork, or your sword. Surely Edgar does not have such skills. One shriek from that beastie and I dare say he would be shaking in his boots.’
‘I cannot lure vampires here just to fight them.’ He scowled and lowered his head. ‘It would not be right.’ He sighed. ‘Dear Nelly, I wish I had light hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as Edgar Linton will be!’
‘And cried for mamma, at every turn,’ I added. ‘And trembled if a vampire so much as crossed his path. Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit! All you must do is clean up and not look so much like a vicious cur. Smooth the lines of your frown. Let the goodness in your soul shine through your black eyes.
‘A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,’ I continued, ‘and now that we’ve done washing, and combing, and sulking—tell me whether you don’t think yourself rather handsome?’ I looked into the mirror before him. ‘I’ll tell you, I do. You’re fit for a prince in disguise.’
So I chattered on, and Heathcliff gradually lost his scowl and began to look quite pleasant, when all at once our conversation was interrupted by a rumbling sound moving up the road and entering the court. He ran to the window and I to the door, just in time to behold the two Lintons descend from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs, and the Earnshaws dismount from their horses.
I urged Heathcliff to hasten now and show his amiable humor, and he willingly obeyed, but ill luck would have it that as he opened the door leading from the kitchen on one side, Hindley opened it on the other. They met, and the master, irritated at seeing him clean and cheerful, shoved him back with a sudden thrust, and angrily bid, ‘Keep out of the room. You’ll be cramming your fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit.’
‘Nay, sir,’ I could not avoid answering. ‘He’ll touch nothing, not he. I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as well as we.’
‘He shall have his share of my hand if I catch him downstairs again till dark,’ cried Hindley. ‘Begone, you vagabond!’
But Heathcliff did not move.
‘What!’ cried Hindley. ‘Wait till I get hold of those elegant locks—see if I won’t pull them a bit longer!’
‘They are long enough already,’ observed Master Linton, peeping from the doorway. ‘I wonder they don’t make his head ache. It’s like a colt’s mane over his eyes!’
He intended no insult, but Heathcliff’s violent nature was not prepared to endure the appearance of impertinence from one whom he seemed to hate, even then, as a rival. He seized a blade from beneath his coat, one no doubt used to defend himself against the vampires, and drew it under Master Linton’s white throat. The young neighbor gave such a cry of fright that it brought Isabella and Catherine hurrying in.
‘Heathcliff, no,’ Catherine cried, grasping his arm before Hindley could reach him. ‘He is not the enemy your blade is intended for.’
Heathcliff slowly lowered the knife. ‘But I fear he is,’ he whispered. Then he dashed out, Hindley following after him and shouting for Joseph.
Master Linton was fine, not even the skin broken, but his sister began weeping to go home, and Cathy stood by, confounded, blushing for all.
‘You should not have spoken to him!’ she expostulated with Master Linton. ‘He was in a bad temper, and now you’ve spoilt your visit. He’ll be flogged. I hate him to be flogged! Why did you speak to him, Edgar?’
‘I didn’t,’ sobbed the youth. ‘I promised Mamma that I wouldn’t say one word to him, and I didn’t.’
‘Well, don’t cry,’ replied Catherine contemptuously. ‘You’re not killed. You would be dead on the floor and fodder for the beasties by now if he wanted you so. Don’t make more mischief; my brother is coming: be quiet! Give over, Isabella! Has anybody hurt you?’
‘There, there, children—to your seats!’ cried Hindley, bustling in. ‘That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely. Next time, Master Edgar, take the law into your own fists—it will give you an appetite!’
The little party recovered its equanimity at the sight of the fragrant feast I had prepared for them. They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled, since no real harm had truly befallen them.
Mr. Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls, and the mistress made them merry with lively talk. I waited behind her chair, and was pained to behold Catherine, with dry eyes and an indifferent air, commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her.
An unfeeling child, I thought to myself. How lightly she dismisses her old playmate’s troubles. I could not have imagined her to be so selfish.
She lifted a mouthful to her lips, then she set it down again. Her cheeks flushed, tears gushed over them. She slipped her fork to the floor, and hastily dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion. I did not call her unfeeling long. She was in purgatory throughout the day, and wearying to find an opportunity of paying a visit to Heathcliff, who had been locked up by the master.
In the evening we had a dance. Cathy begged that he might be liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner; her entreaties were in vain, and I was appointed to supply the deficiency.
We got rid of all gloom in the excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased by the arrival of the Gimmerton Band, mustering fifteen strong: a trumpet, a trombone, clarinets,