Chapter 8
On the morning of a fine June day, my first bonny little nursling, and the last of the ancient Earnshaw stock, was born. We were busy with the hay in a far away field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts, came running an hour too soon, across the meadow and up the lane,
calling me as she ran.
`Oh, such a grand bairn!' she panted out. `The finest lad that ever breathed! But the doctor says missis must go: he says she's been in a
consumption these many months. I heard him tell Mr Hindley: and now she has nothing to keep her, and she'll be dead before winter. You must come home directly. You're to nurse it, Nelly: to feed it with sugar and milk, and take care of it day and night. I wish I were you, because it will be all yours when there is no missis!'
`But is she very ill?' I asked, flinging down my rake, and tying my
bonnet.
`I guess she is; yet she looks bravely,' replied the girl, `and she talks as if she thought of living to see it grow a man. She's out of her head for joy, it's such a beauty! If I were her, I'm certain I should not die: I should get better at the bare sight of it, in spite of Kenneth. I was fairly mad at him. Dame Archer brought the
cherub down to master, in the house, and his face just began to light up, then the old croaker steps forward, and says he: ``Earnshaw, it's a blessing your wife has been spared to leave you this son. When she came, I felt convinced we shouldn't keep her long; and now, I must tell you, the winter will probably finish her. Don't take on, and fret about it too much! it can't be helped. And besides, you should have known better than to choose such a rush of a lass!'
`And what did the master answer?' I inquired.
`I think he swore: but I didn't mind him, I was straining to see the bairn,' and she began again to describe it rapturously. I, as
zealous as herself,
hurried eagerly home to admire, on my part; though I was very sad for Hindley's sake. He had room in his heart only for two idols--his wife and himself: he doted on both, and adored one, and I couldn't conceive how he would bear the loss.
When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood at the front door; and, as I passed in, I asked, `How was the baby?'
`Nearly ready to run about, Nell!' he replied, putting on a cheerful smile.
`And the mistress?' I ventured to inquire; `the doctor says she's--'
`Damn the doctor!' he interrupted, reddening. `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'll promise not to talk. I left her because she would not hold her tongue; and she must--tell her Mr Kenneth says she must be quiet.'
I delivered this message to Mrs Earnshaw; she seemed in flighty spirits, and replied
merrily:
`I hardly spoke a word, Ellen,and there he has gone out twice, crying. Well, say I promise I won't speak: but that does not bind me not to laugh at him!'
Poor soul! Till within a week of her death that gay heart never failed her, and her husband persisted
doggedly, nay,
furiously, in affirming her health improved every day. When Kenneth warned him that his medicines were useless at that stage of the
malady, and he needn't put him to further expense by attending her, he retorted:
`I know you need not--she's well--she does not want any more attendance from you! She never was in a
consumption. It was a fever; and it is gone: her pulse is as slow as mine now, and her cheek as cool.'
He told his wife the same story, and she seemed to believe him; but one night, while leaning on his shoulder, in the act of
saying she thought she should be able to get up tomorrow, 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, provided he saw him healthy and never heard him cry, was
contented, as far as regarded him. For himself, he grew desperate: his sorrow was of that kind that will not
lament. He neither wept nor prayed: he cursed and defied: execrated God and man, and gave himself up to
reckless dissipation. The servants could not bear his tyrannical and evil conduct long: Joseph and I were the only two that would stay. I had not the heart to leave my charge; and besides, you know I had been his foster-sister, and excused his behaviour more readily than a stranger would. Joseph remained to hector over tenants and labourers; and because it was his
vocation to be where he had plenty of wickedness to
reprove.
The master's bad ways and bad companions formed a pretty example for Catherine and Heathcliff. His treatment of the latter was enough to make a fiend of a saint. And, truly, it appeared as if the lad were possessed of something diabolical at that period. He
delighted to witness Hindley degrading himself past redemption; and became daily more
notable for savage sullenness and
ferocity. I could not half tell what an
infernal house we had. The curate dropped
calling, and nobody
decent came near us, at last; unless Edgar Linton's visits to Miss Cathy might be an exception. At fifteen she was the queen of the
countryside; she had no peer; and she did turn out a
haughty, headstrong creature! I own I did not like her, after her
infancy was past; and I vexed her frequently by
trying to bring down her
arrogance: she never took an aversion to me, though. She had a
wondrousconstancy to old attachments: even Heathcliff kept his hold on her affections unalterably; and young Linton, with all his
superiority, found it difficult to make an equally deep impression. He was my late master: that is his
portrait over the
fireplace. It used to hang on one side, and his wife's on the other; but hers has been removed, or else you might see something of what she was. Can you make that out?
Mrs Dean raised the candle, and I discerned a soft-featured face,
exceedingly 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 could forget her first friend for such an individual. I marvelled much how he, with a mind to
correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of Catherine Earnshaw.
`A very agreeable
portrait,' I observed to the
housekeeper. `Is it like?'
`Yes,' she answered; `but he looked better when he was
animated; that is his
everyday countenance: he wanted spirit in general.'
Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Lintons since her five weeks' residence among them; and as she had no
temptation to show her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed of being rude where she
experienced such Invariable
courtesy, she imposed unwittingly on the old lady and gentleman, by her
ingenious cordiality; gained the admiration of Isabella, and the heart and soul of her brother: acquisitions that flattered her from the first, for she was full of ambition, and led her to adopt a double character without exactly intending to deceive anyone. In the place where she heard Heathcliff termed a
vulgar young ruffian', and `worse than a brute', she took care not to act like him; but at home she had small
inclination to practise
politeness that would only be laughed at, and
restrain an
unruly nature when it would bring her neither credit nor praise. Mr Edgar seldom mustered courage to visit Wuthering Heights
openly. He had a terror of Earnshaw's
reputation, and shrunk from encountering him; and yet he was always received with our best attempts at
civility: the master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came; and if he could not be gracious, kept out of the way. I rather think his appearance there was
distasteful to Catherine: she was not artful, never played the coquette, and had evidently an objection to her two friends meeting at all; for when Heathcliff expressed
contempt of Linton in his presence, she could not half
coincide, as she did in his absence; and when Linton evinced disgust and antipathy to Heathcliff, she dared not treat his sentiments with
indifference, as if
depreciation of her
playmate were of scarcely any consequence to her. I've had many a laugh at her perplexities and
untold troubles, which she
vainlystrove to hide from my
mockery. That sounds ill-natured: but she was so proud, it became really impossible to pity her distresses, till she should be chastened into more
humility. She did bring herself, finally, to confess, and
confide in me: there was not a soul else that she might fashion into an
adviser.
Mr Hindley had gone from home one afternoon, and Heathcliff presumed to give himself a holiday on the strength of it. He had reached the age of sixteen then, I think, and without having bad features, or being deficient in
intellect, he contrived to convey an impression of
inward and
outward repulsiveness that his present aspect retains no traces of. In the first place, he had by that time lost the benefit of his early education:
continual hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had extinguished any curiosity he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and any love for books or learning. His childhood's sense of
superiority, instilled into him by the favours of old Mr Earnshaw, was faded away. He struggled long to keep up an
equality with Catherine in her studies, and yielded with poignant though silent regret: but he yielded completely; and there was no
prevailing on him to take a step in the way of moving upward, when he found he must,
necessarily, sink beneath his former level. Then personal appearance sympathized with mental deterioration: he acquired a slouching gait, and
ignoble look; his naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable moroseness; and he took a grim pleasure,
apparently, in exciting the aversion rather than the
esteem of his few acquaintance.
Catherine and he were constant companions still at his seasons of
respite from labour; but he had ceased to express his
fondness for her in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses, as if conscious there could be no
gratification in lavishing such marks of affection on him. On the before-named occasion he came into the house to announce his intention of doing nothing, while I was assisting Miss Cathy to arrange her dress: she had not reckoned on his
taking it into his head to be idle; and imagining she would have the whole place to herself, 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?'
`No, it is raining,' she answered.
`Why have you that silk frock on, then?' he said. `Nobody coming here, I hope?'
`Not that I know of,' stammered Miss: `but you should be in the field now, Heathcliff. It is an hour past dinner time: I thought you were gone.'
`Hindley does not often free us from his
accursed presence,' observed the boy. `I'll not work any more today: I'll stay with you.'
`Oh, but Joseph will tell,' she suggested; `you'd better go!'
`Joseph is loading lime on the farther side of Pennistow Crag; it will take him till dark, and he'll never know.'
So
saying, he lounged to the fire, and sat down. Catherine reflected an instant, with knitted brows--she found it needful to smooth the way for an
intrusion. `Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of
calling this afternoon,' she said, at the conclusion of a minute's silence. `As it rains, I hardly expect them; but they may come, and if they do, you run the risk of being scolded for no good.'
`Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy,' he persisted; `don't turn me out for those
pitiful, silly friends of yours! I'm on the point, sometimes, of complaining that they--but I'll not---'
`That they what?' cried Catherine, gazing at him with a troubled countenance. `Oh, Nelly!' she added petulantly, jerking her head away from my hands, `you've combed my hair quite out of curl! That's enough; let me alone. What are you on the point of complaining about, Heathcliff?'
`Nothing--only look at the
almanac 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: as if I took notice!' replied Catherine in a peevish tone. `And where is the sense of that?'
`To show that I do take notice,' said Heathcliff.
`And should I always be sitting 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 hadn't time to express his feelings further, for a horse's feet were heard on the flags, and having knocked gently, young Linton entered, his face brilliant with delight at the
unexpected summons he had received. Doubtless Catherine marked the difference between her friends, as one came in and the other went out. The contrast resembled what you see in exc
hanging a bleak, hilly, coal country for a beautiful
fertile valley; and his voice and greeting were as opposite as his aspect.
He had a sweet, low manner of
speaking, and
pronounced his words as you do: that's less gruff than we talk here, and softer.
`I'm not come too soon, am I?' he said, casting a look at me: I had begun to wipe the plate, and tidy some drawers at the far end in the
dresser.
`No,' answered Catherine. `What are you doing there, Nelly?'
`My work, miss,' I replied. (Mr Hindley had given me directions to make a third parry in any private visits Linton chose to pay.)
She stepped behind me and whispered crossly, `Take yourself and your dusters off; when company are in the house, servants don't commence scouring and cleaning in the room where they are!'
`It's a good opportunity, now that the master is away,' I answered aloud: `he hates me to be fidgeting over these things in his presence. I'm sure Mr Edgar will excuse me.'
`I hate you to be fidgeting in my presence,' exclaimed the young lady imperiously, not allowing her guest time to speak: she had failed to recover her equanimity since the little dispute with Heathcliff.
`I'm sorry for it, Miss Catherine,' was my
response; and I proceeded assiduously with my occupation.
She, supposing Edgar could not see her, snatched the cloth from my hand, and pinched me, with a prolonged
wrench, very spitefully on the arm. I've said I did not love her, and rather relished mortifying her vanity now and then: besides, she hurt me extremely; so I started up from my knees, and screamed out, `Oh, miss, that's a nasty trick! You have no right to nip me, and I'm not going to bear it.'
`I didn't touch you, you lying creature!' cried she, her fingers tingling to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage. She never had power to conceal her passion, it always set her whole
complexion in a blaze.
`What's that, then?' I retorted, showing a
decided purple witness to refute her.
She stamped her foot, wavered a moment, and then irresistibly impelled by the
naughty spirit within her, slapped me on the cheek a stinging blow that filled both eyes with water.
`Catherine, love! Catherine!' interposed Linton, greatly shocked at the double fault of
falsehood and violence which his idol had committed.
`Leave the room, Ellen!' she
repeated, trembling all over.
Little Hareton, who followed me everywhere, and was sitting near me on the floor, at
seeing my tears commenced crying himself, and sobbed out complaints against `wicked aunt Cathy', which 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 one was wrung free, and the astonished young man felt it
applied over his own ear in a way that could not be
mistaken for jest. He drew back in
consternation. I lifted Hareton in my arms, and walked off to the kitchen with him, leaving the door of communication open, for I was curious to watch how they would settle their
disagreement. The insulted visitor moved to the spot where he had laid his hat, pale and with a quivering lip.
`That's right!' I said to myself. `Take
warning and begone! It's a kindness to let you have a glimpse of her
genuine disposition.'
`Where are you going?' demanded Catherine, advancing to the door.
He swerved aside, and attempted to pass.
`You must not go!' she exclaimed energetically.
`I must and shall!' he replied in a subdued voice.
`No,' she persisted, grasping the handle; `not yet, Edgar Linton: sit down; you shall not leave me in that temper. I should be miserable all night, and I won't be miserable for you!'
`Can I stay after you have struck me?' asked Linton. Catherine was mute.
`You've made me afraid and ashamed of you,' he continued; `I'll not come here again!'
Her eyes began to
glisten, and her lids to twinkle. `And you told a
deliberate untruth!' he said.
`I didn't!' she cried, recovering her speech; `I did nothing
deliberately. Well, go, if you please--get away! And now I'll cry--I'll cry myself sick!'
She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set to
weeping in serious earnest. Edgar persevered in his resolution as far as the court; there he lingered. I
resolved to encourage him.
`Miss is dreadfully
wayward, sir,' I called out. `As bad as any marred child: you'd better be riding home, or else she will be sick only to grieve us.'
The soft thing looked askance through the window: he possessed the power to depart, as much as a cat possesses the power to leave a mouse half killed, or a bird half eaten. Ah, I thought, there will be no saving him: he's doomed, and flies to his fate! And so it was: he turned abruptly, hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him; and when I went in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come home rabid drunk, ready to pull the whole place about our ears (his ordinary frame of mind in that condition), I saw the quarrel had merely effected a closer
intimacy had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and enabled them to
forsake the disguise of friendship, and confess themselves lovers.
Intelligence of Mr Hindley's arrival drove Linton
speedily to his horse, and Catherine to her
chamber. I went to hide little Hareton, and to take the shot out of the master's fowling-piece, which he was fond of playing with in his
insane excitement, to the
hazard of the lives of any who provoked, or even attracted his notice too much; and I had hit upon the plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief if he did go the length of firing the gun.
第八章
一个晴朗的六月天的早晨,第一个要我照应的漂亮小婴孩,也就是古老的恩萧家族的最后一个,诞生了。我们正在远处的一块田里忙着耙草,经常给我们送早饭的姑娘提前一个钟头就跑来了。她穿过草地,跑上小路,一边跑一边喊我。
"啊,多棒的一个小孩!"她喘着说,"简直是从来没有的最好的男孩!可是大夫说太太一定要完啦,他说好几个月来她就有肺痨病。我听见他告诉辛德雷先生的。现在她没法保住自己啦,不到冬天就要死了。你一定得马上回家。要你去带那孩子,耐莉,喂他糖和牛奶,白天夜里照应着。但愿我是你,因为到了太太不在的时候,就全归你啦!"
"可是她病得很重吗?"我问,丢下耙,系上帽子。
"我想是的,但看样子她还心宽。"那姑娘回答,"而且听她说话好像她还想活下去看孩子长大成人哩。她是高兴得糊涂啦,那是个多么好看的孩子:我要是她,准死不了:我光是瞅他一眼,也就会好起来的,才不管肯尼兹说什么呢。我都要对他发火啦,奥彻太太把这小天使抱到大厅给主人看,他脸上才有喜色,那个老家伙就走上前,他说:'恩萧,你的妻给你留下这个儿子真是福气。她来时,我就深信保不住她啦。现在,我不得不告诉你,冬天她大概就要完了。别难过,别为这事太烦恼啦,没救了。而且,你本应该聪明些,不该挑这么个不值什么的姑娘!'"
"主人回答什么呢!"我追问着。
"我想他咒骂来着,可我没管他,我就是要看看孩子,"她又开始狂喜地描述起来。在我这方面我和她一样热心,兴高采烈地跑回家去看。虽然我为辛德雷着想,也很难过。他心里只放得下两个偶像--他的妻子和他自己。他两个都爱,只崇拜一个,我不能设想他怎么担起这损失。
我们到了呼啸山庄的时候,他正站在门前。在我进去时,我问:"孩子怎么样?"
"简直都能跑来跑去啦,耐儿①!"他回答,露出愉快的笑容。
①耐儿--Nell,耐莉(Nelly)的爱称。
"女主人呢?"我大胆地问,"大夫说她是--"
"该死的大夫!"他打断我的话,脸红了,"弗兰西斯还好好的哩,下星期这时候她就要完全好啦。你上楼吗?你可不可以告诉她,只要她答应不说话,我就来,我离开了她,因为她说个不停,她一定得安静些。--告诉她,肯尼兹大夫这样说的。"
我把这话传达给恩萧夫人,她看来兴致勃勃,而且挺开心地回答:
"艾伦,我简直没说一个字,他倒哭着出去两次啦。好吧,说我答应了我不说话,可那并不能管住我不笑他呀!"
可怜的人!直到她临死的前一个星期,那颗欢乐的心一直没有丢开她。她的丈夫固执地--不,死命地--肯定她的健康日益好转。当肯尼兹警告他说,病到这个地步,他的药是没用了,而且他不必来看她,让他再浪费钱了,他却回嘴说:
"我知道你不必再来了--她好啦--她不需要你再看她了。她从来没有生肺痨。那只是发烧,已经退了。她的脉搏现在跳得和我一样慢,脸也一样凉。"
他也跟妻子说同样的话,而她好像也信了他。可是一天夜里,她正靠在丈夫的肩上,正说着她想明天可以起来了,一阵咳嗽呛住了她的话--极轻微的一阵咳嗽--他把她抱起来。她用双手搂着恩萧的脖子,脸色一变,她就死了。