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Wuthering Heights / Грозовой перевал. Уровень 3
Chapter V
In the course of time Mr. Earnshaw began to fail. He was active and healthy, yet his strength left him suddenly. When he had to always stay indoors by the fire he became irritable, especially if anyone attempted to domineer over his favourite.
At last, our curate advised to send Hindley to college; and Mr. Earnshaw agreed, though with a heavy spirit, for he said his son wasn't able enough.
I hoped heartily to have peace now. We might live tolerably, but for two people – Miss Cathy, and Joseph, the servant: you saw him, I think. He is the most wearisome selfrighteous Pharisee, but he made a great impression on Mr. Earnshaw. The more feeble the master became, the more influence he gained. He was relentless in worrying him about his soul's concerns, and about ruling his children rigidly. He encouraged him to regard Hindley as a reprobate; and, night after night, he told tales against Heathcliff and Catherine.
Cathy was wild and wicked – but she had the bonniest eye, the sweetest smile, and lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe she meant no harm. She was much too fond of Heathcliff. The greatest punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him. She had no idea why her father was so cross, either. His peevish reproofs wakened in her a naughty delight to provoke him. She was never so happy as when we were all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold, saucy look, and her ready words. She was turning Joseph's religious curses into ridicule, and doing just what her father hated most – showing how her pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over Heathcliff than his kindness. But master couldn't forgive her even when she tried to be good. That made her cry, at first. Then she laughed if I told her to say she was sorry for her faults, and beg to be forgiven.
Mr. Earnshaw died quietly in his chair one October evening, seated by the fireside. Before he fell asleep, his last phrase to his daughter was,
'Why cannot you always be a good girl, Cathy?'
And she turned her face up to his, and laughed, and answered,
'Why cannot you always be a good man, father?'
But she kissed his hand, and promised to sing for him. Then I told her to hush, and we all kept as mute as mice a full half-hour. After that, the master never woke up.
Chapter VI
Mr. Hindley came home to the funeral; and he brought a wife with him! What she was, and where she was born, he never informed us. Probably, she had neither money nor name to recommend her. He kept the union from his father. I thought she was half silly, from her behaviour.
Young Earnshaw was changed considerably in the three years of his absence. On the very day of his return, he told Joseph and me we must now live in the back-kitchen. His wife expressed pleasure at everything she saw. She was glad to find a sister among her new acquaintance, too. She chatted to Catherine, and kissed her, and gave her many presents, at the beginning. Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish, Hindley became tyrannical. A few words from her, showing dislike to Heathcliff, were enough to rouse in him all his old hatred of the boy. He drove him from their company to the servants. He stopped his studies. Heathcliff had to work outdoors instead.
Heathcliff bore this pretty well at first, because Cathy taught him what she learnt, and worked or played with him in the fields. They both were growing up as rude as savages. It was one of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the morning and remain there all day, and later they only laughed at punishment.
One Sunday evening, they were banished from the sitting-room for making a noise. When I went to call them to supper, I could discover them nowhere. At last, Hindley in a passion told us to bolt the doors, and ordered not to let them in that night. In a while, I distinguished steps coming up the road, and the light of a lantern glimmered through the gate. I threw a shawl over my head and ran out. I wanted to prevent them from waking Mr. Earnshaw. There was Heathcliff, by himself.
'Where is Miss Catherine?' I cried hurriedly. 'No accident, I hope?'
'At Thrushcross Grange,' he answered; 'and I wanted to be there too, but they had not the manners[8] to ask me to stay'.
He told me then they had run to see, through the window, how the Lintons were spending their evening. There they saw Edgar Linton and his two sisters arguing very silly over petting the dog. They laughed and made themselves discovered, and a bulldog ran and bit Cathy by her ankle. At first the household thought our children were thieves. Then they recognized Catherine for what she was. Then they sent Heathcliff off and left the girl there to take care of Catherine. The worst thing for Heathcliff was that she liked it there – by the fire, in a family circle, everyone adoring and admiring her. Heathcliff, of course, felt heartbroken.
The luckless adventure made Earnshaw furious, and no surprise. And then Mr. Linton paid us a visit himself on the morrow, and read the young master such a lecture on the road. Heathcliff received no flogging. But the first word he speaks to Miss Catherine will ensure a dismissal. Mrs. Earnshaw undertook to keep her sister-in-law in due restraint when she returned home.
Chapter VII
Cathy stayed at Thrushcross Grange five weeks: till Christmas. By that time her ankle was cured, and her manners much improved. The mistress visited her often in the interval, and commenced her plan of reform. She was trying to raise her selfrespect with fine clothes and flattery, which she took readily. So instead of a wild little savage she became quite a lady. She was beautifully dressed, and careful not to stain her frock; and then she looked round for Heathcliff. Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw watched anxiously their meeting. At first, it was hard to discover Heathcliff.
'You may come forward,' cried Mr. Hindley, enjoying his discomfiture. 'You may come and wish Miss Catherine welcome, like the other servants.'
Cathy flew to embrace him, kissed him, and then stopped, and drawing back, burst into a laugh, exclaiming,
'Why, how black and cross you look! and how – how funny and grim! But that's because I'm used to Edgar and Isabella Linton. Well, Heathcliff, have you forgotten me? Shake hands at least! I didn't mean to laugh at you. It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face and brush your hair, it will be all right: but you are so dirty!'
'You needn't touch me!' he answered, snatching away his hand. 'I shall be as dirty as I please: and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty.'
With that he ran out of the room.
Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw had invited the Lintons to spend the Christmas morning at Wuthering Heights. The invitation was accepted, on one condition: Mrs. Linton wanted to keep her darlings carefully apart from that 'naughty swearing boy.' And the latter refused to change into a better set of clothes, or have a piece of cake; while Cathy was enjoying herself with her brother and sister-in-law. She did not understand what had happened to Heathcliff.
Soon, though, he decided to look and behave decently. I told him not to feel ashamed of his origin – why, his father can be the Emperor of China, and his mother the Queen of India! Edgar Linton was but a doll compared to him. But of course it all was spoiled.
Heathcliff's violent nature was not prepared to endure humiliation from one whom he seemed to hate, even then, as a rival. He threw a bowl of hot apple sauce into Edgar after the latter laughed at him. As a result, Heathcliff got punished, the Linton children started weeping to go home. Cathy was standing confounded, she was blushing. She blamed the Lintons at first, then tried to dinner, then cried, then asked to liberate Heathcliff. She did like the dinner and the music and the dance, though.
It was only late in the evening that she managed to talk to the boy through the door. I let the poor things converse undisturbed. When I came back, I heard her voice within. The little monkey had crept by the skylight of one garret, along the roof, into the skylight of the other. It was with the utmost difficulty I could coax her out again. When she came, Heathcliff came with her. She wanted to take him into the kitchen and feed him. He went down: I set him a stool by the fire, and offered him a quantity of good things. But he was sick and could eat little, and my attempts to entertain him were thrown away. He leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands and remained rapt in dumb meditation. On my inquiring the subject of his thoughts, he answered gravely,
'I'm trying to settle how I shall pay Hindley back. I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last. I hope he will not die before I do! Leave me alone, and I'll plan it out. While I'm thinking of that I don't feel pain.'
Well, sir, you must allow me to pass to the next summer – the summer of 1778, that is, nearly twenty-three years ago.
Chapter VIII
On the morning of a fine June day my first little nursling, and the last of the ancient Earnshaw family, was born. We were busy with the hay in a far-away field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts came across the meadow and up the lane, calling me as she ran.
'Oh, such a grand baby!' she panted out. 'The finest lad that ever breathed! But the doctor says Missis will die. He says she's been in a consumption these many months. You must come home directly. Nurse it, Nelly!'
When we got to Wuthering Heights, Mr. Earnshaw stood at the front door; and, as I passed in, I asked,
'How is the baby?'
'Nearly ready, Nell!' he replied, with a cheerful smile.
'And the mistress? The doctor says she's – '
'Damn the doctor!' he interrupted. 'Frances is quite right: she'll be perfectly well by this time next week. Are you going upstairs? Will you tell her that I'll come, if she promise not to talk? I left her because she did not hold her tongue. And she must – tell her Mr. Kenneth says she must be quiet.'
Poor soul! Till within a week of her death that heart never failed her; and her husband was affirming furiously that her health improved every day. She seemed to believe him; but one night, while leaning on his shoulder, and trying to get up, a fit of coughing took her – a very slight one. He raised her in his arms; she put her two hands about his neck, her face changed, and she was dead.
As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell wholly into my hands. Mr. Earnshaw was contented with it. For himself, he grew desperate: his sorrow was of that kind that will not lament. He neither wept nor prayed; he cursed and defied. The servants could not bear his tyrannical and evil conduct long. Joseph and I were the only two that stayed.
The master's behaviour formed a pretty example for Catherine and Heathcliff. His treatment of the latter was enough to make a fiend of a saint. And, truly, the lad was possessed of something diabolical at that period. He delighted to witness Hindley degrading himself past redemption. Nobody decent came near us, at last; unless Edgar Linton's visits to Miss Cathy were an exception. At fifteen she was the queen of the countryside; she had no peer; and she did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature! Edgar Linton was my late master: that is his portrait over the fireplace. Can you see it?
Mrs. Dean raised the candle, and I saw a soft-featured face, resembling the young lady at the Heights, but more pensive and amiable in expression. It formed a sweet picture. The long light hair curled slightly on the temples. The eyes were large and serious; the figure almost too graceful. I did not marvel how Catherine Earnshaw forgot her first friend for such an individual. I marvelled much how he could love Catherine Earnshaw.
'A very agreeable portrait. Is it like?'
'Yes, but he looked better when he was smiled; that is his everyday countenance.'
Catherine kept up her acquaintance with the Lintons since her five-weeks' residence among them. Mr. Edgar seldom found courage to visit Wuthering Heights openly. He had a terror of Earnshaw's reputation. Catherine was torn between Heathcliff and Linton. She behaved differently with one and with the other. I laughed at her perplexities and untold troubles, but she, so proud and independent, finally, came to me to confess: there was not a soul else that might be an adviser.
Mr. Hindley went from home one afternoon, and Heathcliff had a holiday. Heathcliff reached the age of sixteen then, I think. He did not have bad features, was not stupid. But he contrived to convey an impression of inward and outward repulsiveness. He didn't study anything. He was trying to study with Catherine, but in vain. Finally he acquired a slouching gait and ignoble look; his disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable moroseness. Catherine and he were constant companions; but he ceased to express his fondness for her in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses.
On that day he came into the house to announce his intention to do nothing, while I was assisting Miss Cathy to arrange her dress. She managed, by some means, to inform Mr. Edgar of her brother's absence, and was then preparing to receive him.
'Cathy, are you busy this afternoon?' asked Heathcliff. 'Are you going anywhere?'
She tried to hide the truth, but it was not possible. Heathcliff asked her to stay with him and ignore those 'foolish friends of hers'.
'Look at the almanack on that wall;' he pointed to a framed sheet hanging near the window, and continued, 'The crosses are for the evenings you have spent with the Lintons, the dots for those spent with me. Do you see? I've marked every day.'
'Yes – very foolish!' replied Catherine, in a peevish tone. 'And where is the sense of that?'
'To show that I take notice,' said Heathcliff.
'Must I always sit with you?' she demanded, growing more irritated. 'What good do I get? What do you talk about? You might be dumb, or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything you do, either!'
'You never told me before that I talked too little, or that you disliked my company, Cathy!' exclaimed Heathcliff, in much agitation.
'It's no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,' she muttered.
Her companion rose up, but he didn't have time to express his feelings further, for young
Linton entered, his face brilliant with delight. Doubtless Catherine marked the difference between her friends, as one came in and the other went out.
The contrast between their appearance and speech was like between a bleak, hilly, coal country and a beautiful fertile valley. Mr. Earnshaw gave me orders not to leave the two alone, so I refused to go. Then Catherine tried to get rid of me, and she stamped her foot, and I went away, shaken.
Little Hareton, who followed me everywhere, and was sitting near me on the floor. He saw my tears and started crying himself. He sobbed out complaints against 'wicked aunt Cathy'. Cathy drew her fury on to his unlucky head: she seized his shoulders, and shook him till the poor child waxed livid, and Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands to deliver him. In an instant she turned and slapped him on his ear. The insulted visitor was going to leave, but Catherine then sobbed so dreadfully that he stayed. And, after a while, I saw the quarrel effected a closer intimacy: they forgot of friendship, and confessed themselves lovers.
Chapter IX
When Hindley arrived, I tried to conceal little Hareton, because his father might kiss him to death or to throw in the fire. But he saw me, and took the child from me.
Poor Hareton was squalling and kicking in his father's arms with all his might, and redoubled his yells when he carried him upstairs and lifted him over the banister. As I reached them, Hindley leant forward on the rails to listen to a noise below. He almost forgot what he had in his hands.
'Who is that?' he asked, hearing the footsteps.
It was Heathcliff; and, at the instant when my eye quitted Hareton, he gave a sudden spring, delivered himself from the careless grasp that held him, and fell. Heathcliff arrived underneath just at the critical moment and caught the boy. But his face changed when he realized he had saved his enemy's son.
I preferred to die than give the baby in Mr. Earnshaw's hands again. He laughed and poured himself a drink. Some minutes later, I was rocking Hareton on my knee, and humming a song, when Miss Cathy, who had listened to the hubbub from her room, put her head in, and whispered,
'Are you alone, Nelly?'
'Yes, Miss,' I replied.
She entered and approached the hearth. I supposed she was going to say something, and looked up. The expression of her face seemed disturbed and anxious. Her lips were half asunder, she drew a breath; but it escaped in a sigh instead of a sentence. I resumed my song.
'Where's Heathcliff?' she said, interrupting me.
'He is working in the stable,' was my answer.
There followed another long pause.
'Oh, dear!' she cried at last. 'I'm very unhappy!'
'A pity,' observed I. 'You're hard to please; so many friends and so few cares, and can't make yourself content!'
'Nelly, will you keep a secret for me? I want to know what I to do. Today, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I have agreed. Now was I wrong?'
'There are many things to be considered before that question can be answered properly.
It all seems smooth and good, Miss Cathy, why are you sad? Where is the obstacle?'
'Here! and here!' replied Catherine, striking one hand on her forehead, and the other on her breast: 'in whichever place the soul lives. In my soul and in my heart, I'm convinced I'm wrong!'
'That's very strange! I cannot understand.'
'Nelly, do you never dream queer dreams?' she said, suddenly, after some minutes' reflection.
'Yes, now and then,' I answered.
'And so do I. I've dreamt that I was in Heaven. But Heaven did not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth. That will explain my secret. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven. If the wicked man here did not humiliate Heathcliff… It will degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he will never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as frost from fire.'
When this speech ended, I became sensible of Heathcliff's presence. I noticed a slight movement, turned my head, and saw him rise from the bench. He went out noiselessly. He listened. Catherine says it will degrade her to marry him! Then he stayed to hear no further.
'Oh, I'm not going to forget Heathcliff! That's not what I intend,' Cathy continued, 'I will be Mrs. Linton. Edgar must shake off his antipathy, and tolerate him, at least. He will, when he learns my true feelings towards him. Nelly, I see now you think me a selfish wretch. But if Heathcliff and I are married, we will be beggars. Whereas, if I marry Linton I can aid Heathcliff to rise, and place him out of my brother's power.'
'With your husband's money, Miss Catherine? I think that's the worst motive of yours.'
'It is not,' retorted she; 'it is the best!'
She paused, and hid her face in the folds of my gown; but I jerked it forcibly away. I was out of patience with her folly!
'If I can make any sense of your nonsense, Miss,' I said, 'it only goes to convince me that you are ignorant of the duties you undertake in marrying; or else that you are a wicked, unprincipled girl. But trouble me with no more secrets: I'll not promise to keep them.'
'You'll keep that?' she asked, eagerly.
'No, I'll not promise,' I repeated.
She was about to insist, when the entrance of Joseph finished our conversation. Catherine removed her seat to a corner, and nursed Hareton, while I made the supper.
In the evening she wanted to talk to Heathcliff, but he was not at home. Night fell, however, Catherine was not tranquil. She was wandering to and fro, from the gate to the door, in a state of agitation.
About midnight, while we still sat up, the storm came over the Heights in full fury. There was a violent wind, as well as thunder, and either one or the other split a tree off at the corner of the building. Heathcliff had disappeared since the evening. One day, I had the misfortune, when she had provoked me exceedingly, to lay the blame of his disappearance on her. From that period, for several months, she ceased to hold any communication with me. Joseph fell under a ban also. Catherine felt ill, she was pale, and cross, and sad. The doctor says that she won't bear much. Her brother, meanwhile, wished earnestly to see her bring honour to the family by an alliance with the Lintons! Edgar Linton was infatuated and believed himself the happiest man alive on the day he led her to Gimmerton Chapel, three years subsequent to his father's death.
Much against my inclination, I was persuaded to leave Wuthering Heights and accompany her here. Little Hareton was nearly five years old, and I had just begun to teach him his letters. We made a sad parting; but Catherine's tears were more powerful than ours.
