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1Perceiving myself in a blunder, I attempted to correct it. I might have seen there was too great a disparity between the
2ages of the parties to make it likely that they were man and wife. One was about forty: a period of mental vigour at
3which men seldom cherish the delusion of being married for love by girls: that dream is reserved for the solace of our
4declining years. The other did not look seventeen. Then it flashed upon me--"The clown at my elbow, who is drinking his
5tea out of a basin and eating his bread with unwashed hands, may be her husband: Heathcliff junior, of course. Here is
6the consequence of being buried alive: she has thrown herself away upon that boor from sheer ignorance that better
7individuals existed! A sad pity--I must beware how I cause her to regret her choice." The last reflection may seem
8conceited; it was not. My neighbour struck me as bordering on repulsive; I knew, through experience, that I was
9tolerably attractive. "Mrs. Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law," said Heathcliff, corroborating my surmise. He turned, as
10he spoke, a peculiar look in her direction: a look of hatred; unless he has a most perverse set of facial muscles that
11will not, like those of other people, interpret the language of his soul. "Ah, certainly--I see now: you are the
12favoured possessor of the beneficent fairy," I remarked, turning to my neighbour. This was worse than before: the youth
13grew crimson, and clenched his fist, with every appearance of a meditated assault. But he seemed to recollect himself
14presently, and smothered the storm in a brutal curse, muttered on my behalf: which, however, I took care not to notice.
15"Unhappy in your conjectures, sir," observed my host; "we neither of us have the privilege of owning your good fairy;
16her mate is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law: therefore, she must have married my son." "And this young man is--"
17"Not my son, assuredly." Heathcliff smiled again, as if it were rather too bold a jest to attribute the paternity of
18that bear to him. "My name is Hareton Earnshaw," growled the other; "and I'd counsel you to respect it!" "I've shown no
19disrespect," was my reply, laughing internally at the dignity with which he announced himself. He fixed his eye on me
20longer than I cared to return the stare, for fear I might be tempted either to box his ears or render my hilarity
21audible. I began to feel unmistakably out of place in that pleasant family circle. The dismal spiritual atmosphere
22overcame, and more than neutralised, the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved to be cautious how I
23ventured under those rafters a third time. The business of eating being concluded, and no one uttering a word of
24sociable conversation, I approached a window to examine the weather. A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down
25prematurely, and sky and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow. "I don't think it possible for
26me to get home now without a guide," I could not help exclaiming. "The roads will be buried already; and, if they were
27bare, I could scarcely distinguish a foot in advance." "Hareton, drive those dozen sheep into the barn porch. They'll be
28covered if left in the fold all night: and put a plank before them," said Heathcliff. "How must I do?" I continued, with
29rising irritation. There was no reply to my question; and on looking round I saw only Joseph bringing in a pail of
30porridge for the dogs, and Mrs. Heathcliff leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a bundle of matches
31which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored the tea-canister to its place. The former, when he had deposited
32his burden, took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out--"Aw wonder how yah can faishion to
33stand thear i' idleness un war, when all on 'ems goan out! Bud yah're a nowt, and it's no use talking--yah'll niver mend
34o'yer ill ways, but goa raight to t' divil, like yer mother afore ye!" I imagined, for a moment, that this piece of
35eloquence was addressed to me; and, sufficiently enraged, stepped towards the aged rascal with an intention of kicking
36him out of the door. Mrs. Heathcliff, however, checked me by her answer. "You scandalous old hypocrite!" she replied.
37"Are you not afraid of being carried away bodily, whenever you mention the devil's name? I warn you to refrain from
38provoking me, or I'll ask your abduction as a special favour! Stop! look here, Joseph," she continued, taking a long,
39dark book from a shelf; "I'll show you how far I've progressed in the Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a
40clear house of it. The red cow didn't die by chance; and your rheumatism can hardly be reckoned among providential
41visitations!" "Oh, wicked, wicked!" gasped the elder; "may the Lord deliver us from evil!" "No, reprobate! you are a
42castaway--be off, or I'll hurt you seriously! I'll have you all modelled in wax and clay! and the first who passes the
43limits I fix shall--I'll not say what he shall be done to--but, you'll see! Go, I'm looking at you!" The little witch
44put a mock malignity into her beautiful eyes, and Joseph, trembling with sincere horror, hurried out, praying, and
45ejaculating "wicked" as he went. I thought her conduct must be prompted by a species of dreary fun; and, now that we
46were alone, I endeavoured to interest her in my distress. "Mrs. Heathcliff," I said earnestly, "you must excuse me for
47troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I'm sure you cannot help being good-hearted. Do point out some
48landmarks by which I may know my way home: I have no more idea how to get there than you would have how to get to
49London!" "Take the road you came," she answered, ensconcing herself in a chair, with a candle, and the long book open
50before her. "It is brief advice, but as sound as I can give." "Then, if you hear of me being discovered dead in a bog or
51a pit full of snow, your conscience won't whisper that it is partly your fault?" "How so? I cannot escort you. They
52wouldn't let me go to the end of the garden wall." "You! I should be sorry to ask you to cross the threshold, for my
53convenience, on such a night," I cried. "I want you to tell me my way, not to show it: or else to persuade Mr.
54Heathcliff to give me a guide." "Who? There is himself, Earnshaw, Zillah, Joseph and I. Which would you have?" "Are
55there no boys at the farm?" "No; those are all." "Then, it follows that I am compelled to stay." "That you may settle
56with your host. I have nothing to do with it." "I hope it will be a lesson to you to make no more rash journeys on these
57hills," cried Heathcliff's stern voice from the kitchen entrance. "As to staying here, I don't keep accommodations for
58visitors: you must share a bed with Hareton or Joseph, if you do." "I can sleep on a chair in this room," I replied.
59"No, no! A stranger is a stranger, be he rich or poor: it will not suit me to permit any one the range of the place
60while I am off guard!" said the unmannerly wretch. With this insult my patience was at an end. I uttered an expression
61of disgust, and pushed past him into the yard, running against Earnshaw in my haste. It was so dark that I could not see
62the means of exit; and, as I wandered round, I heard another specimen of their civil behaviour amongst each other. At
63first the young man appeared about to befriend me. "I'll go with him as far as the park," he said. "You'll go with him
64to hell!" exclaimed his master, or whatever relation he bore. "And who is to look after the horses, eh?" "A man's life
65is of more consequence than one evening's neglect of the horses: somebody must go," murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more
66kindly than I expected. "Not at your command!" retorted Hareton. "If you set store on him, you'd better be quiet." "Then
67I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope Mr. Heathcliff will never get another tenant till the Grange is a ruin," she
68answered, sharply. "Hearken, hearken, shoo's cursing on 'em!" muttered Joseph, towards whom I had been steering. He sat
69within earshot, milking the cows by the light of a lantern, which I seized unceremoniously, and, calling out that I
70would send it back on the morrow, rushed to the nearest postern.
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