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1"Of dissolving with her, and being more happy still!" he answered. "Do you suppose I dread any change of that sort? I
2expected such a transformation on raising the lid, but I'm better pleased that it should not commence till I share it.
3Besides, unless I had received a distinct impression of her passionless features, that strange feeling would hardly have
4been removed. It began oddly. You know I was wild after she died; and eternally, from dawn to dawn, praying her to
5return to me her spirit! I have a strong faith in ghosts: I have a conviction that they can, and do, exist among us! The
6day she was buried, there came a fall of snow. In the evening I went to the churchyard. It blew bleak as winter--all
7round was solitary. I didn't fear that her fool of a husband would wander up the glen so late; and no one else had
8business to bring them there. Being alone, and conscious two yards of loose earth was the sole barrier between us, I
9said to myself--'I'll have her in my arms again! If she be cold, I'll think it is this north wind that chills me; and if
10she be motionless, it is sleep.' I got a spade from the tool-house, and began to delve with all my might--it scraped the
11coffin; I fell to work with my hands; the wood commenced cracking about the screws; I was on the point of attaining my
12object, when it seemed that I heard a sigh from some one above, close at the edge of the grave, and bending down. 'If I
13can only get this off,' I muttered, 'I wish they may shovel in the earth over us both!' and I wrenched at it more
14desperately still. There was another sigh, close at my ear. I appeared to feel the warm breath of it displacing the
15sleet-laden wind. I knew no living thing in flesh and blood was by; but, as certainly as you perceive the approach to
16some substantial body in the dark, though it cannot be discerned, so certainly I felt that Cathy was there: not under
17me, but on the earth. A sudden sense of relief flowed from my heart through every limb. I relinquished my labour of
18agony, and turned consoled at once: unspeakably consoled. Her presence was with me: it remained while I re-filled the
19grave, and led me home. You may laugh, if you will; but I was sure I should see her there. I was sure she was with me,
20and I could not help talking to her. Having reached the Heights, I rushed eagerly to the door. It was fastened; and, I
21remember, that accursed Earnshaw and my wife opposed my entrance. I remember stopping to kick the breath out of him, and
22then hurrying upstairs, to my room and hers. I looked round impatiently--I felt her by me--I could almost see her, and
23yet I could not! I ought to have sweat blood then, from the anguish of my yearning--from the fervour of my supplications
24to have but one glimpse! I had not one. She showed herself, as she often was in life, a devil to me! And, since then,
25sometimes more and sometimes less, I've been the sport of that intolerable torture! Infernal! keeping my nerves at such
26a stretch that, if they had not resembled catgut, they would long ago have relaxed to the feebleness of Linton's. When I
27sat in the house with Hareton, it seemed that on going out I should meet her; when I walked on the moors I should meet
28her coming in. When I went from home I hastened to return; she must be somewhere at the Heights, I was certain! And when
29I slept in her chamber--I was beaten out of that. I couldn't lie there; for the moment I closed my eyes, she was either
30outside the window, or sliding back the panels, or entering the room, or even resting her darling head on the same
31pillow as she did when a child; and I must open my lids to see. And so I opened and closed them a hundred times a
32night--to be always disappointed! It racked me! I've often groaned aloud, till that old rascal Joseph no doubt believed
33that my conscience was playing the fiend inside of me. Now, since I've seen her, I'm pacified--a little. It was a
34strange way of killing: not by inches, but by fractions of hairbreadths, to beguile me with the spectre of a hope
35through eighteen years!" Mr. Heathcliff paused and wiped his forehead; his hair clung to it, wet with perspiration; his
36eyes were fixed on the red embers of the fire, the brows not contracted, but raised next the temples; diminishing the
37grim aspect of his countenance, but imparting a peculiar look of trouble, and a painful appearance of mental tension
38towards one absorbing subject. He only half addressed me, and I maintained silence. I didn't like to hear him talk!
39After a short period he resumed his meditation on the picture, took it down and leant it against the sofa to contemplate
40it at better advantage; and while so occupied Catherine entered, announcing that she was ready, when her pony should be
41saddled. "Send that over to-morrow," said Heathcliff to me; then turning to her, he added: "You may do without your
42pony: it is a fine evening, and you'll need no ponies at Wuthering Heights; for what journeys you take, your own feet
43will serve you. Come along." "Good-bye, Ellen!" whispered my dear little mistress. As she kissed me, her lips felt like
44ice. "Come and see me, Ellen; don't forget." "Take care you do no such thing, Mrs. Dean!" said her new father. "When I
45wish to speak to you I'll come here. I want none of your prying at my house!" He signed her to precede him; and casting
46back a look that cut my heart, she obeyed. I watched them, from the window, walk down the garden. Heathcliff fixed
47Catherine's arm under his: though she disputed the act at first evidently; and with rapid strides he hurried her into
48the alley, whose trees concealed them.
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