Wuthering Bites (23 page)

I closed the door and rolled a stone to assist the loosened lock in holding it. I then spread my umbrella and drew my charge underneath, for the rain began to drive through the moaning branches of the trees, and warned us to avoid delay. There was no sign of the woman vampire who possessed a name.

Our hurry prevented any comment on the encounter with Heathcliff as we stretched toward home, but I suspected that Catherine's heart was clouded now in double darkness. Her features were so sad, they did not seem hers; she evidently regarded what she had heard as every syllable true.

The master had retired to rest before we came in. Cathy stole to his room to inquire how he was, but he had fallen asleep. She returned and asked me to sit with her in the library. We took our tea together, and afterward she lay down on the rug and told me not to talk, for she was weary.

I got a book and pretended to read. As soon as she supposed me absorbed in my occupation, she recommenced her silent weeping; it appeared, at present, her favorite diversion. I suffered her to enjoy it awhile, then I spoke, deriding and ridiculing all Mr. Heathcliff's assertions about his son, as if I were certain she would coincide. Alas! I hadn't the skill to counteract the effect his account had produced; it was just what he intended.

‘You may be right, Nelly,' she answered. ‘But I shall never feel at ease till I know. And I must tell Linton it is not my fault that I don't write, and convince him that I shall not change.'

What use were anger and protestations against her silly credulity? We parted that night—hostile, but next day I found myself on the road to Wuthering Heights, by the side of my willful young mistress's pony. I couldn't bear to witness her sorrow, to see her pale, dejected countenance and heavy eyes, and I yielded, in the faint hope that Linton himself might prove, by his reception of us, how little of the tale was founded on fact.

I only hoped we would not encounter a female vampire by the name of Mirela on our way.

T
he rainy night had ushered in a misty morning—half frost, half drizzle—and temporary brooks crossed our path, gurgling from the uplands. My feet were thoroughly wet. I was cross and low, exactly the humor suited for making the most of this disagreeable task.

We saw no sign of our friend the lady vampire on our journey—perhaps because she had the good sense to stay out of the wretched weather. We entered the farmhouse by the kitchen way to ascertain whether Mr. Heathcliff was really absent. Joseph sat beside a roaring fire, a quart of ale on the table near him, his black, short pipe in his mouth, his habitual scarf tied round and round his neck. Although why Joseph needed a muffler when he sat close enough to the hearth to spit in it, I can't imagine. But there he was, paler and more wretched looking than ever. If there ever was a more morose man, I've yet to see him.

The dogs leapt up, growling and snapping, the wicked terrier in the lead, but when they saw who it was, they ceased their snarling and hunkered down on the stone floor. Even the mean little terrier seemed cowed by her presence. His ears flattened onto his skull, he tucked his tail between his legs and crept back to the corner where he'd been devouring a large rat.

‘There, there,' Catherine cried as she ran to the hearth to warm herself. ‘Didn't I tell you the dogs won't hurt me, Nelly?'

I asked Joseph if the master was in. My question remained so long unanswered that I thought the old man had grown deaf, or died where he sat, eyes open. I repeated it louder.

‘Na-ay!' he snarled. ‘Na-ay! Yah better go back from where ye come from.'

‘Joseph!' cried a peevish voice from the inner room. ‘How often am I to call you? There are only a few red ashes now.” Linton entered the kitchen. ‘Joseph! Come this moment.'

Cathy flew to him.

‘No—don't kiss me. It takes my breath—dear me! Papa said you would call,' continued he, after recovering a little from his cousin's embrace. ‘Will you come in and shut the door? Those
detestable
creatures waltz right in if you let them.'

‘The dogs?' I asked.

He shuddered walking into the parlor, ignoring my question and making me wonder exactly which creatures he meant. I looked around cautiously for any sign of bloodsuckers clinging to the rafters or crouched in dark corners, and we followed.

‘It's so cold!' he complained, falling into a chair.

I stirred up the cinders and fetched a scuttle of coal from the kitchen myself, taking care to close the door between the two rooms.

‘Well, Linton,' murmured Catherine. ‘Are you glad to see me?'

‘Why didn't you come before?' he said, looking feverish and ill. ‘You should have come, instead of writing. It tired me dreadfully, writing those long letters. I'd far rather have talked to you. Now I can neither bear to talk, nor anything else. I wonder where Zillah is! Will you (looking at me) step into the kitchen and see?'

I had received no thanks for my other service, and being unwilling to run to and fro at his behest, I replied, ‘You saw for yourself. Nobody is out there but Joseph.'

‘Give them time—they'll be by. It's how he keeps them under control.'

‘I have no idea what you speak of,' I responded. “Those beastly dogs?”

‘It doesn't matter, so long as they stay far from me. I want a drink,' he exclaimed fretfully, turning away. ‘Zillah is constantly gadding off to Gimmerton since Papa went. It's miserable! And I'm obliged to come down here—they resolved never to hear me upstairs.'

‘Is your father attentive to you, Master Heathcliff?' I asked, perceiving Catherine to be checked in her friendly advances.

‘Attentive? He makes
them
a little more attentive, at least,' he cried. ‘The wretches! Do you know, Miss Linton, that brute Hareton laughs at me! I hate him! Indeed, I hate them all. They are odious beings.'

Cathy began searching for some water; she lighted on a pitcher in the dresser, filled a tumbler, and brought it. He bid her add a spoonful of wine from a bottle on the table, and having swallowed a small portion, appeared more tranquil.

‘And are you glad to see me?' she repeated, pleased to detect a faint dawn of a smile.

‘Yes, I am. It's something new to hear a voice like yours!' he replied. ‘But I
have
been vexed, because you wouldn't come. And Papa swore it was my fault. He called me a pitiful, shuffling, worthless thing, and said you despised me. He said if he had been in my place, he would be more the master of the Grange than your father, by this time. But you don't despise me, do you, Miss—'

‘I wish you would say Catherine, or Cathy,' interrupted my young lady. ‘We are kin, after all. It's not necessary for you to call me Miss, dear cousin.'

‘But you admit you despise me as much as they all despise me?'

‘Despise you? No! Next to Papa, and Nelly, I love you better than anybody living. I don't love Mr. Heathcliff, though. I dare not come when he returns. Will he stay away many days?'

‘Not many. But he goes onto the moors frequently, since the vampires have begun moving about the county again. I don't know what he does out there. If he just killed them, they would be gone, wouldn't you think?' It wasn't a question he wished anyone to answer and he continued, ‘You might spend an hour or two with me, some days, in his absence. Say you will! I think I should not be peevish with you.'

‘Yes,' said Catherine, stroking his long, soft hair. ‘If I could only get Papa's consent, I'd spend half my time with you. Pretty Linton! I wish you were my brother! If you were my brother, you would be of stronger countenance and we could go away to be schooled in the arts of fighting the bloodsuckers. The milkmaid tells me that she has a cousin who says there's a fine school in Paris. The teachers there are the best. They come from the far corners of the world to teach the ancient skills of defense with sword and knife and other secret ways. I should like to go to Paris. Don't you think it a noble task, to spend one's life defending mankind against the bloodsuckers?'

‘Lose one's life, most likely,' he whined. He pouted for a moment, then looked at my dear Cathy with the slyest of looks. ‘Papa says you would love me better than him and all the world if you were my wife, so I'd rather you were that.'

‘No!' she returned gravely. ‘People hate their wives, sometimes, but not their sisters and brothers. If you were my brother, you would live with us, and Papa would be as fond of you as he is of me.'

‘
My
papa scorns yours!' cried Linton. ‘He calls him a sneaking fool!'

‘Yours is a wicked man,' retorted Catherine. ‘And you are very naughty to dare to repeat what he says. He must be wicked to have made Aunt Isabella leave him as she did!'

‘She didn't leave him,' said the boy. ‘You shan't contradict me!'

‘She did!' cried my young lady.

‘Well, I'll tell
you
something!' said Linton. ‘Your mother hated your father!'

‘Oh!' exclaimed Catherine, too enraged to continue.

‘And she loved mine!' added he.

‘You little liar! I hate you now,' she panted, and her face grew red with passion.

‘She did! She did!' sang Linton, sinking into the recess of his chair, and leaning back his head to enjoy her agitation.

‘Hush, Master Heathcliff!' I said finally.

‘She did, she did, Catherine! She did, she did!'

Cathy, beside herself, gave the chair a violent push, and caused him to fall against one arm. He was immediately seized by a suffocating cough that soon ended his triumph.

It lasted so long that it frightened even me. As to his cousin, she wept with all her might.

I held him till the fit exhausted itself. Then he thrust me away and leant his head down silently. Catherine quelled her lamentations also, took a seat opposite, and looked solemnly into the fire.

‘How do you feel now, Master Heathcliff?' I inquired after waiting ten minutes.

‘I wish
she
felt as I do,' he whimpered. ‘I have never been struck in my life.'

‘
I
didn't strike you!' muttered Cathy, chewing her lip to prevent another burst of emotion. ‘If I had struck you, you'd know it. I'm quite strong, you know. I exercise every day. I wish I had a sword, but Papa won't buy me one, so I use a fireplace poker to practice my parrying. I can run and climb and jump as well as handle a poker. So don't fuss to me about a little push that wouldn't have troubled a suckling babe.'

He sighed and moaned like one under great suffering, and kept it up for a quarter of an hour, on purpose to distress his cousin, apparently, for whenever he caught a stifled sob from her, he put renewed pain and pathos into the inflections of his voice.

‘I'm sorry I hurt you, Linton,' she said finally. ‘But
I
couldn't have been hurt by that little push, and I had no idea that you could, either. You're not much, are you, Linton? It's no wonder your father trains Hareton to fight the bloodsuckers and not you.' She paused. ‘Linton?'

‘I can't speak to you,' he murmured. ‘You've hurt me so that I shall lie awake all night, choking with this cough.'

‘Must I go, then?' asked Catherine dolefully, bending over him. ‘Do you want me to go, Linton?'

‘You can't alter what you've done,' he replied pettishly.

‘Well, then I must go.' she repeated.

She lingered, then finally made a movement to the door and I followed.

‘You must come back, to cure me,' Linton called after her, lifting his head when he realized she was truly taking her leave. ‘You ought to come because you have hurt me! I was not as ill when you entered as I am at present—was I?'

She halted in the doorway. ‘You've made yourself ill by crying. I didn't do it all. However, we'll be friends now.' She approached him again. ‘You would wish to see me sometimes, really?'

‘I told you I did,' he replied impatiently, falling back in his chair. ‘Tomorrow, Catherine, will you be here tomorrow?'

‘No!' I answered. ‘She will not. Nor the next day neither.'

She, however, gave a different response, evidently, for his forehead cleared as she stooped and whispered in his ear.

‘You won't go tomorrow, miss!' I commenced as we went out the kitchen door, Joseph nowhere to be seen. The evil little dog ran after us, the rat, now headless, in his teeth.

She smiled. “Isn't that sweet, Nelly. I think he's making a gift of his rat to me. Good dog,” she praised. The creature whined and rolled over on the ground, wiggling with joy. Cathy laughed. ‘See, I do have more than one friend in this cheerless house.'

‘I don't know why the beasties haven't made a meal of that boy,' I said, stepping over the rat and striding ahead. ‘But you'll not come back here any time soon, that I vow.' I grabbed her pony's reins, untying him from the hitching post, and led him along. The terrier followed at Cathy's heels.

‘And what is this nonsense about you using a poker for a sword? Is that what you're doing in the garden when I can't see you? I ought to tell your papa.'

‘You ought not to,' the little lady snapped.

I gave a harrumph. ‘I'll have that lock mended, and you can escape by no way else.'

‘I can get over the wall,' she said, laughing. ‘The Grange is not a prison, Nelly, and you are not my jailer. And besides, I'm almost seventeen. I'm a woman. And I'm certain Linton would recover quickly if he had me to—'

She halted mid-sentence, her mouth falling open, her eyes going round with fright as she caught sight of something in the barnyard. I turned in the direction she gazed and had to clamp my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from crying out and giving away our location.

The terrier's mood changed from jubilant to defensive. Dropping the rat, he sprang in front of Cathy to protect her, his small body crouched, and the hair rose on his back. Baring his teeth, he uttered a low snarl.

Across the barnyard, Joseph stood, his back against the wall of a shed, his arms spread wide, his head wrenched back, his eyes closed, his face convulsing in pain. On each side of him stood a cloaked figure, one male, one female, their mouths pressed against his throat. Blood ran in rivulets down Joseph's shirt and their greedy mouths. He was not struggling and I got the distinct impression this was not the first time this had occurred.

What had Linton said?
Give them time, they'll be by. It's how he keeps them under control.
Was this ghastly occurrence what the boy referred to? And who was
he?
Surely it was not Joseph sacrificing himself to keep the vampires
under control
.

Unable to tear my gaze away from the horrifying sight, I grabbed my charge. ‘Keep silent,' I murmured in her ear. ‘Draw no attention to yourself.'
Else they may seize upon our throats as well,
I thought, but did not voice.

As I led Miss Cathy away from the house, the terrier followed, never taking his gaze from the bloodsuckers. I looked back once over my shoulder. Joseph's eyes were open this time, and when his gaze met mine, when I saw the pain—no, worse—the
surrender
in them, I actually felt sorry for the miserable wretch.

We made our escape from the Heights without further issue and my charge was quite silent on our return. Whether she was frightened beyond words, or still busy scheming, I did not know. Somewhere between the two houses, the little black dog lay down in the center of the road and watched us go with sad eyes.

Within sight of the gates of the Grange, I said simply, ‘The vampires, Joseph, and that terrible dog
, that
is why you cannot return to Wuthering Heights, my dear.' The young miss made no response and I said nothing more. I knew she knew better than to recount what she had seen. We reached home before our dinner-time; my master supposed we had been wandering through the park, and demanded no explanation of our absence.