Wuthering Bites (32 page)

O
ne night shortly after that, after the family was in bed, I heard Heathcliff go downstairs and out the front door. I did not hear him re-enter, and in the morning I found he was still away.

We were in April then. The weather was sweet and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it, and the two dwarf apple trees near the southern wall, in full bloom.

After breakfast, Catherine insisted on my bringing a chair and sitting with my work under the fir trees at the end of the house. From there, I watched Hareton dig and arrange her little garden under her direction. I was comfortably reveling in the spring fragrance around, and the beautiful soft blue overhead, when my young lady, who had run down near the gate to procure some primrose roots for a border, returned only half laden, and informed us that Mr. Heathcliff was coming in.

‘And he spoke to me,' she added, with a perplexed countenance.

‘What did he say?' asked Hareton.

‘He told me to be gone as fast as I could,' she answered. ‘But he looked so different from his usual look that I stopped a moment to stare at him.'

‘How?' he inquired.

‘Why, almost bright and cheerful. No,
almost
nothing—very
much
excited, and wild and glad!' she replied.

‘Night-walking amuses him, then,' I remarked, affecting a careless manner. In reality, I was as surprised as she was, and anxious to see the master looking glad; that would not be an everyday spectacle, and I made an excuse to go in.

Heathcliff stood at the open door. He was pale, and he trembled, yet he certainly had a strange, joyful glitter in his eyes that altered the aspect of his whole face.

‘Rambling about all night on the moors?' I asked. I wanted to discover where he had been since he no longer pursued the vampires with much interest, but I did not like to ask directly.

‘Don't annoy me, Nelly. Let me alone.'

I obeyed, and in passing, I noticed he breathed as fast as a cat. Something was astir with him, but what, I did not know.

That noon, he did not bother to join us at our meal. We saw him walking to and fro in the garden and Hareton said he'd go and ask why he did not sit with us, as was his custom even though he no longer ate, thinking we had grieved him some way.

‘Well, is he coming?' cried Catherine, when her cousin returned.

‘Nay,' he answered. ‘But he's not angry. He seemed rare and pleased indeed, speaking of the time for endings and beginnings, but then I made him impatient by speaking to him twice and then he bid me be off to you. He wondered how I could want the company of anybody else.'

After an hour or two, Heathcliff re-entered in no degree calmer. He had the same unnatural—it
was
unnatural—appearance of joy under his black brows, the same bloodless hue, and his teeth visible, now and then, in a kind of smile.

‘Have you heard any good news, Mr. Heathcliff?' I asked. ‘You look uncommonly animated.'

‘Where should good news come from, to me?' he said. ‘Nelly, once and for all, let me beg you to warn Hareton and the others away from me. I wish to be troubled by nobody. I wish to have this place to myself.'

‘Is there some new reason for this banishment?' I inquired. ‘Tell me why you are so queer, Mr. Heathcliff. Where were you last night? I'm not putting the question through idle curiosity, but—'

‘You are putting the question through very idle curiosity,' he interrupted, with a laugh. ‘Yet, I'll answer it. Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. Today, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it! And now you'd better go—you'll neither see nor hear anything to frighten you, if you refrain from prying.'

He did not quit the house again that afternoon, and no one intruded on his solitude, till, at eight o'clock, I deemed it proper to carry a candle to him. Why I thought a vampire, even a half-breed vampire, needed light, I do not know. A gesture to the humanity I still hoped was within him, perhaps.

I found him leaning against the ledge of an open window, but not looking out. His face was turned to the interior gloom. The fire had smoldered to ashes. The room was filled with the damp, mild air of the cloudy evening and still, still as a grave, dare I say?

I uttered an ejaculation of discontent at seeing the dismal grate and commenced shutting the casements, one after another, till I came to his. ‘Must I close this?' I asked in order to rouse him, for he would not stir.

The light flashed on his features as I spoke. Oh, Mr. Lockwood, I cannot express what a terrible start I got, by the momentary view! Those deep black eyes! That smile and ghastly paleness! He appeared to me, not as Heathcliff, but as the vampire I had seen that night in the courtyard and, in my terror, I let the candle bend toward the wall, and it left me in darkness.

‘Yes, close it,' he replied, in his familiar voice. It was as if he had not even been aware of the brief transformation!

I hurried out in a foolish state of dread, and sent Joseph up to take him a light and rekindle the fire. I dared not go in myself again just then, but thought it safe enough for Joseph to go. After all, he had already seen the worst and lived to tell the tale.

We later heard Heathcliff mount the stairs; he did not proceed to his ordinary chamber, but turned into that with the paneled bed. The same room I believe you said you slept in. The window, as you recall, is wide enough for anybody to get through, and it struck me that he plotted another midnight excursion.

Why the sudden secrecy of his wanderings? I wondered. After all these years of coming and going at night, which started in his boyhood, why would he care what any of us thought or knew?

Dawn came and I rose and went into the garden, as soon as I could see, to ascertain if there were any foot-marks under his window. There were none.

He has stayed at home,
I thought.
He'll be all right today.

I prepared breakfast for the household, as was my usual custom, but told Hareton and Catherine to get theirs before the master came down, for he lay late. They preferred taking it out of doors, under the trees, and I set a little table to accommodate them.

On my re-entrance, I found Mr. Heathcliff in the kitchen at the table. Looking at the opposite wall, he commenced to surveying one particular portion, up and down, with glittering, restless eyes, and with such eager interest that he stopped breathing, during half a minute together.

‘Something I can get for you, master?' I said, not liking his behavior, which seemed even queer for him whose behavior was most queer in its own right.

He didn't notice me, and yet he smiled. I'd rather have seen him gnash his fanged teeth than smile so. ‘Mr. Heathcliff! Master!' I cried. ‘Don't, for God's sake, stare as if you saw an unearthly vision.'

‘Don't, for God's sake, shout so loud,' he replied. ‘Turn round, and tell me, are we by ourselves?'

‘Of course,' was my answer. ‘Of course we are!'

Still, I involuntarily obeyed him, as if I were not quite sure. When I glanced back at him, I perceived he was not looking at the wall, for when I regarded him alone, it seemed exactly that he gazed at something within two yards' distance. And whatever it was, it communicated, apparently, both pleasure and pain, in exquisite extremes. At least the anguished yet raptured expression of his countenance suggested that idea. The fancied object was not fixed, either; his eyes pursued it with unwearied vigilance, and, even in speaking to me, were never weaned away.

As I watched him, I found myself fascinated that the undead could see visions. There had been no such mention of the matter in the books my Cathy had been reading to me, and I made a note to myself to mention the fact to her later. Perhaps, with all our experience with the bloodsuckers, she and I ought to write a book of our own someday!

After some time with the staring, Heathcliff rose, left the house, slowly sauntering down the garden path, and disappeared through the gate.

The hours crept anxiously by and another evening came. I did not retire to rest till late, and when I did, I could not sleep. He returned after midnight and shut himself into her room again. I listened, and tossed about, and, finally, dressed and descended. It was too irksome to lie up there, harassing my brain with a hundred idle misgivings.

I distinguished Mr. Heathcliff's step, restlessly measuring the floor, and he frequently broke the silence by a deep inspiration, resembling a groan. He muttered detached words, also; the only one I could catch was the name of Catherine, coupled with some wild term of endearment or suffering and spoken as one would speak to a person present: low and earnest, and wrung from the depth of his soul. Whatever matter he was contemplating, it was certain he was vexed.

I had not courage to walk straight into the apartment, but I desired to divert him from his reverie, and therefore fell upon the kitchen fire, stirred it, and began to scrape the cinders. It drew him forth sooner than I expected. He opened the door immediately, and said—

‘Nelly, come here—is it morning?'

‘It is striking four,' I answered. ‘You want a candle to take upstairs?'

‘No, I don't wish to go upstairs,' he said. ‘When day breaks, I want to send for Green, the lawyer. I wish to make some legal inquiries of him while I can bestow a thought on those matters, and while I can act calmly. I have not written my will yet, and how to leave my property I cannot determine! I wish I could annihilate it from the face of the earth.'

‘I would not talk so, Mr. Heathcliff,' I interposed. ‘You look well enough to me and surely not grave-bound.'

‘Just the same, I put you in charge of my burial. You must take notice that the sexton obeys my direction concerning the two coffins! We shall not be separated. No minister need come, nor need anything be said over me—I tell you, I have nearly attained
my
heaven, and that of others is altogether unvalued and unconverted by me!'

‘And supposing they refuse to bury you anywhere near the kirk, but choose to add your head to one of your pikes along the road to Gimmerton?' I said, shocked at his godless indifference, all the time wondering how he proposed he was going to die. Did he mean to have one of his own servants run him through his heart with a sword? Or because he was half human, was he able to succumb as the rest of us would someday? ‘How would you like that?'

‘They won't do that,' he replied. ‘Even in death, they will still fear me. If they did, however, put me upon a pike, you must retrieve my head and body secretly and put them in the grave beside her!'

As soon as he heard the other members of the family stirring he retired to his den, and I breathed freer. But in the afternoon, while Joseph and Hareton were at their work, he came into the kitchen again, and with a wild look, bid me come and sit in the main house. He wanted somebody with him.

I declined, telling him plainly that his strange talk and manner frightened me, and I had neither the nerve nor the will to be his companion, alone.

‘I believe you think me a fiend!' he said, with his dismal laugh. ‘Something too horrible to live under a decent roof!'

It occurred to me to point out that he
was,
indeed, a fiend and all knew it, but I kept my lips sealed, as was my place.

Then turning to Catherine, who was there, and who drew behind me at his approach, he added, half sneeringly, ‘Will
you
come? I'll not hurt you. No! To you, I've made myself worse than the devil. Well, there is one who won't shrink from my company! By God, she's relentless. Oh, damn it! It is unutterably too much for flesh and blood to bear—even mine.'

He solicited the society of no one more. At dusk, he went into his chamber.

The following day was very wet; indeed, it had poured down most of the night, and still a light rain fell. As I took my morning walk round the house, I observed the master's window swinging open; the rain would have driven in all night.
He must either be up or out. But I'll make no more ado, I'll go boldly and look!

Having succeeded in obtaining entrance with another key, I ran to unclose the panels, for the chamber was vacant. I walked to the window and looked out in the direction of Gimmerton and knew, at once, deep in my soul, where he had gone.

Without haste, for I knew there was no need for it, I put on my best bonnet and cloak and found Hareton, requesting he accompany me into the village. He agreed without question; perhaps he knew why he was going. Perhaps he was just acting as the good soul I knew he had become. I wanted to slip out before Cathy arose, but we had no such luck, and before the three of us passed through the gates, Joseph was trailing behind, as well. On our way, we picked up two herd-boys, a dairymaid, the tanner's son, and an elderly bloodsucker we all knew well because he was too ancient and snaggle-toothed to do us any harm. One by one, they fell into line behind me like a trail of goslings, never asking where we went or why.

Upon reaching the church, I did not pass through the gates, for what would have been the sense in that? Instead, I walked round back, trying to take care not to tread on too many graves, for these days it seemed more were planted outside the walls than within. Upon approaching Catherine's grave, I warned Cathy to stay back, but she refused, and soon enough we all came to stand at Heathcliff's feet.

My heart leapt in my chest at the awful sight.

He was as dead as I have ever seen a man…or vampire.

Sometime in the night, he'd laid himself down beside Catherine's unearthed grave and thrust a silver stake through his own heart. But before he had sent himself to heaven or hell, wherever he was bound, he had dug up her coffin and done the same to her corpse.

Cathy gasped and Hareton took her shoulders to steady her. ‘Is that my mother dead these eighteen years?' she questioned. ‘And a stake through her heart?'