Wuthering Bites (6 page)

‘Hush, hush!' I interrupted, fearing the master might hear him. ‘Still you have not told me, Heathcliff, how Catherine is left behind?'

‘I told you we laughed,' he answered. ‘The Lintons heard us, and they shot like arrows to the door; there was silence, and then a cry, “Oh, Mamma, Mamma! Oh, Papa! Oh, Mamma, come here. Oh, Papa, oh!” They really did howl out something like that. We made frightful noises to terrify them still more, trying to sound like vampires scratching at the window and then we dropped off the ledge, thinking we had better flee. I had Cathy by the hand, and was urging her on, when all at once one of the bloodsuckers, a particularly ugly fellow I had encountered in the moors earlier in the week, fell upon her, dragging her down.

‘ “Run, Heathcliff, run!” she cried. “He holds me!”

‘The devil had seized her ankle, Nelly. I heard his abominable snorting. But Cathy did not yell out—no! She would have scorned to do it, if she had been spitted on the horns of a mad cow. I did, though. I vociferated curses enough to annihilate any fiend in Christendom, regretting that I had left my sword at the edge of the drive that leads up to the Grange. Without a weapon, I got a stone and thrust it between her attacker's jaws, and tried with all my might to cram it down his throat. A servant came up with a lantern, at last, swinging a hoe, shouting, “Keep fast, beast of Satan, keep fast!”

‘He changed his note, however, when he saw the vampire's game, which was not to kill, but maim. The beast was throttled off, his huge purple tongue hanging half a foot out of his mouth, and his pendant lips steaming with bloody slaver. Then another servant threw a bowl of ground garlic at the creature and it fled.

‘The manservant picked Cathy up. She was sick, not from fear, I'm certain, but from pain. Fortunately, the crude beast had bitten her ankle, not her neck, and had barely fed upon her! The servant carried her in; I followed, grumbling vengeance. I had let the vampire live that week, only to have him attack my Catherine! He would die, and those he cared for with him!

‘ “What prey, Robert?” hallooed Linton from the entrance.

‘ “The gap-toothed vampire that lurks at the gate has caught a little girl, sir,” he replied. “And there's a lad here,” he added, making a clutch at me. “He looks dangerous. It's likely robbers were for putting them through the window to open the doors to the gang after all were asleep, that they might murder us at their ease. Hold your tongue, you foul-mouthed thief, you! You shall go to the gallows for this. Mr. Linton, sir, don't lay by your gun.”

‘ “No, no, Robert,” said the old fool, Linton. “Oh, my dear Mary, look here! Don't be afraid, it is but a boy—yet the villain scowls so plainly in his face.”

‘He pulled me under the chandelier, and Mrs. Linton placed her spectacles on her nose and raised her hands in horror. The cowardly children crept nearer also, Isabella lisping, “Frightful thing! Put him in the cellar, Papa. He looks exactly like the son of the gypsy slayer that stole my tame pheasant. Doesn't he, Edgar?”

‘While they examined me, Cathy came round. She heard the last speech and laughed. Edgar Linton, after an inquisitive stare, recognized her. They see us at church, you know, though we seldom meet them elsewhere.

‘ “That's Miss Earnshaw!” he whispered to his mother, “and look how the vampire has chewed on her—how her foot bleeds!”

‘ “Miss Earnshaw? Nonsense!” cried the dame. “Miss Earnshaw scouring the country with a gypsy! And yet, my dear, the child is in mourning—sure it is—and she may be lamed for life!”

‘ “How careless is her brother!” exclaimed Mr. Linton, turning from me to Catherine. “I've understood from neighbors that he lets her grow up in absolute heathenism, running about the moors with gypsy vampire slayers. But who is this? Where did she pick up this companion? Oho! I declare he is that strange acquisition my late neighbor made, in his journey to Liverpool.”

‘ “A wicked boy, at all events,” remarked the old lady, “and quite unfit for a decent house! Did you notice his language, Linton? I'm shocked that my children should have heard it.”

‘I recommenced cursing—don't be angry, Nelly—and so Robert was ordered to take me off. I refused to go without Cathy, but he dragged me into the garden, pushed the lantern into my hand, and sent me on my way.

‘I ran back for my sword, should the vampire return, and I resumed my station as spy. If Catherine had wished to return, I intended shattering their great glass panes to a million fragments to reach her.

‘She sat on the sofa quietly. Mrs. Linton took off the gray cloak of the dairy maid, which we had borrowed for our excursion, shaking her head and expostulating. She was a young lady, and they made a distinction between her treatment and mine. Then the woman-servant brought a basin of warm water and washed Cathy's feet, and Mr. Linton mixed a tumbler of negus, and Isabella emptied a plateful of cakes into her lap, and Edgar stood gaping at a distance. Afterward, they dried and combed her beautiful hair, and gave her a pair of enormous slippers, and wheeled her to the fire. I left her, as merry as she could be, dividing her food between herself and a little dog whose nose she pinched as she ate. I saw her eyes full of stupid admiration; she is so immeasurably superior to them—to everybody on earth, is she not, Nelly? Why would she admire them?'

‘There will more come of this business than you reckon on,' I answered, covering him up and extinguishing the light. ‘You are incurable, Heathcliff, and Mr. Hindley will have to proceed to extremes, see if he won't.'

My words came truer than I desired. The luckless adventure made Earnshaw furious. And then Mr. Linton, to mend matters, paid us a visit himself on the morrow and read the young master such a lecture on the road he guided his family.

Heathcliff received no flogging, but he was told that the first word he spoke to Miss Catherine should see him driven from Wuthering Heights. Mrs. Earnshaw undertook to keep her sister-in-law in due restraint when she returned home, employing art not force, for with force she would have found it impossible.

C
athy stayed at Thrushcross Grange five weeks, until Christmas. By that time her ankle was thoroughly cured, and her manners much improved. The mistress visited her often, and began a plan of reform with fine clothes and flattery, which Cathy took readily. So, instead of a wild, hatless little savage jumping into the house and rushing to squeeze us all breathless, a very dignified person with brown ringlets falling from the cover of a feathered beaver hat lighted from a handsome pony.

Hindley lifted her from her horse, delighted. ‘Why, Cathy, you are quite a beauty! I should scarcely have known you. You look like a lady now.'

I removed Catherine's coat and beneath she wore a grand plaid silk frock, white trousers, and burnished shoes, and, while her eyes sparkled joyfully when the dogs came bounding up to welcome her, she hardly touched them, fearing they might soil her splendid garments.

She kissed me gently. Then she looked round for Heathcliff. ‘Is Heathcliff not here?' she demanded, pulling off her gloves and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened from staying indoors.

‘Heathcliff, you may come forward,' ordered Mr. Earnshaw. ‘You may come and wish Miss Catherine welcome, like the other servants.'

Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend, flew to embrace him. She kissed him seven or eight times on his cheek and then drawing back, burst into laughter. ‘How very black and cross you look! Heathcliff, have you forgotten me?'

Shame and pride threw double gloom over his countenance and kept him immovable.

‘Shake hands, Heathcliff,' said Mr. Earnshaw, condescendingly.

‘I will not,' replied the boy, finding his tongue at last. ‘I will not stand to be laughed at.'

Miss Cathy seized him again before he could escape. ‘I did not mean to laugh at you,' she said. ‘Heathcliff, shake hands, at least! What are you sulky for? It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face, and brush your hair, it will be all right, but you are so dirty!'

I must tell you that if Heathcliff was careless and uncared for before Catherine's absence, it was ten times worse now. His clothes were dirty and covered with dry blood from wandering the moors. I could not say when he had last bathed. Truthfully, he had been gone from Wuthering Heights more than he had been there—where, I didn't know, but I could guess. Gypsy slayers had been camping in the area, and while the vampires had been bold only weeks before, they were quieter again, keeping to themselves and the shadows.

Catherine gazed at Heathcliff's soiled fingers and then at her dress, which he had dirtied where he touched her.

He snatched his hand away. ‘I shall be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty.'

With that he dashed out of the room, leaving Catherine unable to comprehend how her remark had made him so angry.

After playing lady's maid to the newcomer, and putting my cakes in the oven, and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great fires, befitting Christmas Eve, I sat down to amuse myself by singing carols. Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging Missy's attention by gay trifles bought for her to present to the little Lintons, as an acknowledgment of their kindness.

They had invited them to spend the next day at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been accepted, on one condition: Heathcliff must be banned from coming in contact with the Linton offspring.

Smelling the rich scent of heating spices in the kitchen, I remembered how old Earnshaw used to come in when all was tidied, and call me a cant lass, and slip a shilling into my hand as a Christmas gift. From that I went on to think of his fondness for Heathcliff. That naturally led me to consider the poor lad's situation now, and I got up and walked into the court to seek him.

He was not far; I found him in the stable, cornering a young female vampire with the aid of a pitchfork. It hissed and bared ivory fangs, but the gleam in its eyes was more of lust than fierceness, and the amount of white ankle and shapely leg it revealed beneath its gown and cloak bordered on indecent.

‘Stay back, Nelly,' he warned, thrusting the tines of the fork in the beastie's direction.

It squealed, cowering, its arms thrust out in an attempt to protect its face.

I drew back, pulling my cloak around me, horrified and yet oddly intrigued at the same time.

‘What did I tell you?' Heathcliff demanded of the creature. Her long, stringy black hair was the color of pitch, her eyes black holes, her lips blood red, and when she shrieked, I could see her fangs.

‘I told you, you could not pass beyond the outer walls! You take advantage of my Christmas cheer!' he bellowed. ‘I throw you and yours a perfectly good sheep and then you dare come after my horses?'

It shrilled in response, almost as if it could speak, but if it could, its language was beyond me.

‘I should kill you,' Heathcliff threatened. ‘Christmas cheer be damned.' But then he lowered the pitchfork. ‘Go, before I change my mind.'

With a hiss, the vampire scurried past me and out into the darkness.

Heathcliff returned the pitchfork to its place along the wall. He said nothing about the vampire, so I said nothing. Instead, I said, ‘The kitchen is so comfortable, and Joseph is upstairs. Let me dress you smart before Miss Cathy comes out, and then you can sit together, with the whole hearth to yourselves, and have a long chatter till bedtime.'

I waited, but getting no answer, left him. Catherine supped with her brother and sister-in-law; Joseph and I joined at an unsociable meal, seasoned with his reproofs on one side and sauciness on the other. He seemed in even a fouler mood than usual, though why, I did not know. He kept glancing at the door, as if expecting a visitor. What I would not know until later was that he
had
been, the very same unfortunate
visitor
Heathcliff had just run off. But that is another story.

Cathy sat up late, preparing for the reception of her new friends; she came into the kitchen once to speak to her old one, but Heathcliff was gone. She only stayed to ask what was the matter with him, and then went back.

In the morning he rose early and disappeared into the moors. Seeking the female vampire I had seen the night before? I wondered. He did not reappear till the family were departed for church. Heathcliff's time away from the house seemed to have brought him to a better spirit. He hung about me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed—

‘Nelly, make me decent. Make me acceptable in appearance so I do not distress Cathy any further.'

‘High time, Heathcliff,' I said. ‘You
have
grieved Catherine; she's sorry she ever came home, I dare say! It looks as if you envied her because she is more thought of than you.'

The notion of
envying
Catherine was incomprehensible to him, but the notion of grieving her he understood clearly enough.

‘Did she say she was grieved?' he inquired, looking very serious.

‘She cried when I told her you were off again this morning.'

‘Well,
I
cried last night,' he returned, ‘and I had more reason to cry than she.'

‘Yes, you had the reason of going to bed with a proud heart and an empty stomach,' said I. ‘Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. And now, though I have dinner to get ready, I'll steal time to arrange you so that Edgar Linton shall look quite a doll beside you. You are younger, and yet, I'll be bound, you are taller and twice as broad across the shoulders. You could knock him down in a twinkling.'

Heathcliff's face brightened a moment, then it was overcast afresh, and he sighed. ‘But, Nelly, if I knocked him down twenty times, that wouldn't make him less handsome or me more so.'

‘Perhaps you could defend us from a vampire so as to demonstrate your admirable skills and make a fool of Edgar Linton. You could bid return that woman creature you had in the barn and then send her on her way again with a fine thrust of a pitchfork, or your sword. Surely Edgar does not have such skills. One shriek from that beastie and I dare say he would be shaking in his boots.'

‘I cannot lure vampires here just to fight them.' He scowled and lowered his head. ‘It would not be right.' He sighed. ‘Dear Nelly, I wish I had light hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as Edgar Linton will be!'

‘And cried for mamma, at every turn,' I added. ‘And trembled if a vampire so much as crossed his path. Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit! All you must do is clean up and not look so much like a vicious cur. Smooth the lines of your frown. Let the goodness in your soul shine through your black eyes.

‘A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,' I continued, ‘and now that we've done washing, and combing, and sulking—tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome?' I looked into the mirror before him. ‘I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for a prince in disguise.'

So I chattered on, and Heathcliff gradually lost his scowl and began to look quite pleasant, when all at once our conversation was interrupted by a rumbling sound moving up the road and entering the court. He ran to the window and I to the door, just in time to behold the two Lintons descend from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs, and the Earnshaws dismount from their horses.

I urged Heathcliff to hasten now and show his amiable humor, and he willingly obeyed, but ill luck would have it that as he opened the door leading from the kitchen on one side, Hindley opened it on the other. They met, and the master, irritated at seeing him clean and cheerful, shoved him back with a sudden thrust, and angrily bid, ‘Keep out of the room. You'll be cramming your fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit.'

‘Nay, sir,' I could not avoid answering. ‘He'll touch nothing, not he. I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as well as we.'

‘He shall have his share of my hand if I catch him downstairs again till dark,' cried Hindley. ‘Begone, you vagabond!'

But Heathcliff did not move.

‘What!' cried Hindley. ‘Wait till I get hold of those elegant locks—see if I won't pull them a bit longer!'

‘They are long enough already,' observed Master Linton, peeping from the doorway. ‘I wonder they don't make his head ache. It's like a colt's mane over his eyes!'

He intended no insult, but Heathcliff's violent nature was not prepared to endure the appearance of impertinence from one whom he seemed to hate, even then, as a rival. He seized a blade from beneath his coat, one no doubt used to defend himself against the vampires, and drew it under Master Linton's white throat. The young neighbor gave such a cry of fright that it brought Isabella and Catherine hurrying in.

‘Heathcliff, no,' Catherine cried, grasping his arm before Hindley could reach him. ‘He is not the enemy your blade is intended for.'

Heathcliff slowly lowered the knife. ‘But I fear he is,' he whispered. Then he dashed out, Hindley following after him and shouting for Joseph.

Master Linton was fine, not even the skin broken, but his sister began weeping to go home, and Cathy stood by, confounded, blushing for all.

‘You should not have spoken to him!' she expostulated with Master Linton. ‘He was in a bad temper, and now you've spoilt your visit. He'll be flogged. I hate him to be flogged! Why did you speak to him, Edgar?'

‘I didn't,' sobbed the youth. ‘I promised Mamma that I wouldn't say one word to him, and I didn't.'

‘Well, don't cry,' replied Catherine contemptuously. ‘You're not killed. You would be dead on the floor and fodder for the beasties by now if he wanted you so. Don't make more mischief; my brother is coming: be quiet! Give over, Isabella! Has anybody hurt you?'

‘There, there, children—to your seats!' cried Hindley, bustling in. ‘That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely. Next time, Master Edgar, take the law into your own fists—it will give you an appetite!'

The little party recovered its equanimity at the sight of the fragrant feast I had prepared for them. They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled, since no real harm had truly befallen them.

Mr. Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls, and the mistress made them merry with lively talk. I waited behind her chair, and was pained to behold Catherine, with dry eyes and an indifferent air, commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her.

An unfeeling child,
I thought to myself.
How lightly she dismisses her old playmate's troubles.
I could not have imagined her to be so selfish.

She lifted a mouthful to her lips, then she set it down again. Her cheeks flushed, tears gushed over them. She slipped her fork to the floor, and hastily dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion. I did not call her unfeeling long. She was in purgatory throughout the day, and wearying to find an opportunity of paying a visit to Heathcliff, who had been locked up by the master.

In the evening we had a dance. Cathy begged that he might be liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner; her entreaties were in vain, and I was appointed to supply the deficiency.

We got rid of all gloom in the excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased by the arrival of the Gimmerton Band, mustering fifteen strong: a trumpet, a trombone, clarinets, bassoons, French horns, and a bass viol, besides singers. They go the round of all the respectable houses, and receive contributions every Christmas, and we esteemed it a first-rate treat to hear them. This year, I was pleased to see that they had acquired a guard of gypsy slayers to prevent them being devoured as they crossed the moors. A pretty penny they charge, but worth every cent for one's blood, don't you think? But the gypsies were not allowed inside, no matter how much I pleaded. Instead, they had to bide outside in the cold. They didn't seem to mind, but wrapped their cloaks around them and scanned the house and courtyard with dark, suspicious gazes.