Wuthering Bites (8 page)

Her eyes began to glisten. ‘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. But then, still hearing her weeping, he turned abruptly, hastened into the house again, and shut the door behind him.

When I went in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come home rabid drunk with several
acquaintances
in black cloaks bearing fangs, I saw the quarrel had merely instigated a closer intimacy. Linton had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and that enabled them to forsake the disguise of friendship, and confess themselves lovers.

H
indley entered hurling oaths dreadful to hear, and caught me stowing his son away in the kitchen cupboard. Hareton possessed a wholesome terror of encountering either his father's excessive fondness or his madman's rage. In one, he ran a chance of being squeezed and kissed to death, and in the other, of being flung into the fire or dashed against the wall. Knowing how peculiar his father was and having a bairn's inborn sense of self-preservation, the child was always quiet wherever I chose to put him.

‘There, I've found you out at last!' cried Hindley, pulling me back by the skin of my neck, like a dog. ‘By heaven and hell, you'll murder that child! I know how it is, now that he is always out of my way. With the help of Satan, I shall throw you to my guests and let them make a meal of you.'

‘But I don't like the thought of being sucked dry, Mr. Hindley,' I answered. ‘I'd rather be shot, if you please.'

‘Wait! Is that my son, Nelly?' Seeming to forget completely his thought of feeding me to the rambunctious guests I could hear in the other room, snarling and hissing, he released me. ‘Boy, come here! Let me see your teeth. Are they normal or do you bear fangs like the cloaked ones? Have they put a changeling in place of my son and heir? The teeth will tell.'

Foolishly having come out of the protection of the cupboard, the boy now clung tightly to my skirts.

‘Kiss me,' Hindley ordered, grabbing him up. ‘Kiss me, Hareton! Damn it, kiss me! By God, as if I would rear such a monster! As sure as I'm living, I'll break the brat's neck.'

Poor Hareton was squalling and kicking in his father's arms with all his might as he carried him upstairs and lifted him over the banister. I cried out and ran to rescue the boy. As I reached them, Hindley leaned forward on the rails to listen to a noise below, forgetting what he had in his hands.

‘Who is that?' he asked.

I leaned forward, too, intending to sign to Heathcliff not to come farther. At the instant when my eye left Hareton, he gave a sudden spring, broke free of his father's careless grasp, and tumbled over the railing.

There was scarcely time to experience a thrill of horror before Heathcliff arrived underneath just at the critical moment. By natural impulse, he caught the boy in his arms and set him on his feet. ‘There, there, brat, none the worse.' Then he looked up to discover the culprit.

Hindley descended leisurely, sobered. ‘This is your fault, Nelly,' he said. ‘You should keep the lad out of my sight! You know how he sets my nerves afire. But I've no wish to harm him, just teach him not to act like a wild thing. Is he injured anywhere?'

‘Injured!' I cried angrily. ‘If he's not killed, he'll be a blithering idiot! It is a wonder his mother does not rise from her grave! You're worse than any of those beasties in the sitting room awaiting your attendance—treating your own flesh and blood in that manner! You might take a lesson from them! At least they protect their little creatures! A pretty state you've come to!'

‘I shall come to a prettier, yet, Nelly,' laughed Hindley, recovering his hardness. ‘Convey yourself and the brat away. And you, too, Heathcliff! Else I'll serve all of you to my guests.' He took a pint bottle of brandy from the dresser and poured some into a tumbler.

‘Have mercy on your own soul!' I said, trying to snatch the glass from his hand.

But he thwarted me and he drank the spirits and then he was gone.

‘It's a pity he cannot kill himself with drink,' observed Heathcliff as the door shut.

‘I don't know why those vampires he calls his friends have not sucked him dry,' I remarked. ‘Perhaps his blood is too foul for them to digest.'

‘They do not harm him because I have forbidden it,' Heathcliff said under his breath. ‘It would be too pleasant a death for the likes of him. No, I have better plans.'

For a moment, I stared into Heathcliff's black eyes, and what I saw so frightened me that I clutched the child to my breast and hurried to the kitchen. I didn't know what the gypsy meant by
better plans
and I did not want to know.

In the kitchen I sat down to lull my little lamb to sleep. Unbeknownst to me, Heathcliff, I later realized, had flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the fire and out of my sight, where he remained silent. I was singing to the child when Miss Cathy put her head in and whispered—

‘Are you alone, Nelly?'

‘Yes, miss,' I replied, thinking I was.

She entered and approached the hearth. ‘Where's Heathcliff?'

‘I don't know. About his work in the stable, I suppose.'

There followed another long pause, during which I perceived a trickle of tears from Catherine's cheek to the flag-stones. ‘Oh, dear!' she cried at last. ‘I'm very unhappy!'

‘A pity,' I observed, still rocking the boy.

‘Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?' She knelt down by me, lifting her winsome eyes to my face.

‘Is it worth keeping?' I inquired, less sulkily.

‘Yes, and it worries me, and I have to let it out! I want to know what I should do. Today, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I've given him an answer. Now, before I tell you whether I consented or not, I want you to tell me which it should have been.'

‘Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?' I set the sleeping boy before the fire on an old blanket where I could keep an eye on him. ‘Considering the exhibition you performed in front of him this afternoon, he must be either hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool to still want you. You can be as mean as a snake some days, miss. And that's God's honest truth.' I raised a hand in oath. ‘Not that all in this cursed house are not as mad as May butter.'

‘If you talk like that, I won't tell you any more,' she returned, peevishly, rising to her feet. ‘I accepted him, Nelly. Be quick, and say whether I was wrong!'

I sat in my place again. ‘You accepted him!' I cried.
The fat's in the fire now,
I thought with a sinking heart.
Heathcliff will be neither to hold nor to bind.
‘Then what good is it discussing the matter if you've already told Linton you'll marry him?'

‘But you haven't said whether I should have done it!' she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together and frowning.

A shiver ran down my spine as I wondered what would become of us all now. But remembering my place, I tried to keep my tone of voice properly servile and said, ‘There are many things to be considered before that question can be answered properly. First and foremost, do you love Mr. Edgar?'

‘Of course I do,' she answered.

‘Why do you love him, Miss Cathy?'

‘I do—that's sufficient.'

Foxes love chickens and devour as many as they can catch. Why did I fear Linton might suffer the same fate in the hands of Miss Cathy? ‘You must say why.'

‘Well, because he is handsome, and pleasant to be with.'

‘Bad!' was my commentary. ‘Faces sag and hair slips away. If he takes after his kin, he'll be bald as Dame Setter by the time he's forty.'

‘And because he is young and cheerful.'

‘Bad, still. If you think he will not age, you are mistaken. That is, if he isn't sucked dry by St. Swithun's Day!'

She ignored my commentary. ‘And because he loves me.'

I folded my arms over my bosom. ‘Indifferent. You are the prettiest girl for three days' ride.'

‘Only three days?'

‘I've never been farther than that from my hearth, so how would I know if any be lovelier a day farther off?'

Miss Cathy pouted. ‘And he will be rich, and I shall like to be the greatest woman of the neighborhood, and I shall be proud of having such a husband.'

‘Worst of all,' I groaned. ‘And now say how you love him.'

‘As everybody loves—You're silly, Nelly.'

‘Not at all. I am the most sensible person I know.' I pointed at her. ‘Answer.'

‘I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions.'

‘And why?'

‘You're making fun of me! It's no jest to me!' said the young lady, scowling and turning her face to the fire.

‘I'm very far from jesting, Miss Catherine,' I replied. ‘You love Mr. Edgar because he is handsome, and young, and cheerful, and rich, and loves you. The last, however, goes for nothing. You would love him without that, probably, and with it you wouldn't, unless he possessed the other four attractions.'

‘No. I should only pity him—hate him, perhaps, if he were ugly, and a clown.'

‘What of his ability to keep you safe? The beasties remain relatively quiet for now at Wuthering Heights, even while they are mad feasting elsewhere, perhaps because your brother keeps them entertained, perhaps because Heathcliff commands them so, but what if the situation changes? Can Mr. Linton protect you if the vampires decide to take up residence at Thrushcross Grange? I imagine they should like such a fine house with many plump servants to keep them healthy and fat. Some of these vampires have become quite civilized in their behavior, attending teas and balls and sponsoring hunts. Occasionally human guests even escape their invitations without so much as a drop of bloodletting. But they are not to be trusted. Not for a moment,' I warned vehemently.

‘Edgar is not a man of weapons. You know that. Not all men are.'

‘But there are other handsome, rich young men: handsomer, possibly, and richer than he is, who are well trained in defense against the devils. What should hinder you from loving them?'

‘I've seen none like Edgar.'

‘You know he won't always be handsome, and young, and may not always be rich.'

‘He is now, and I have only to do with the present.'

‘Well, that settles it. If you have only to do with the present, marry Mr. Linton. Your brother will be pleased. The old lady and gentleman won't object, for I'm sure they're anxious to see an heir born before they enter the pearly gates. You will escape from this disorderly, comfortless home into a wealthy, respectable one. All seems smooth and easy. So where is the obstacle?' I asked, peering into her pretty face.

‘Here,
and
here!'
replied Catherine, striking one hand on her forehead, and the other on her breast. ‘In my soul and in my heart, I fear it's wrong!'

‘And why is that, do tell?'

She seated herself by me again, her countenance growing sadder and graver as her clasped hands began to tremble. ‘Nelly, do you ever dream queer dreams?' she said, suddenly.

‘Yes, now and then.'

‘And so do I, and this is one I must tell.'

‘Oh, don't, Miss Catherine!' I cried. ‘We're dismal enough without conjuring up ghosts and visions to perplex us.' I was superstitious about dreams then, and still am, and Catherine had such an unusual gloom in her eyes that made me foresee a fearful catastrophe. ‘I will not hear it,' I repeated, my own hands shaking.

She was annoyed with me, but she did not proceed and instead took up another subject. ‘You know, Nelly, if I were in heaven like Papa and Mamma and Hindley's dear departed wife, I would be extremely miserable.'

‘Because you are not fit to go there,' I answered. ‘All sinners would be miserable in heaven. Tortured, probably.' I rose from my chair, careful not to wake the sleeping child, for the boy had thankfully drifted off in the midst of our conversation. I wrapped him in a blanket, tucked him into the storage compartment of a high-backed bench near the hearth, and closed the lid. Neither mad sire nor bloodsucking guest would think to look for the child there. To conclude my deception, I set a basket of knitting on the seat.

‘You are heartless,' Miss Cathy cried. ‘You care more for that child than my future.'

‘Not true. Have I not cared for you since you were a babe, as if you were my own?'

‘And you don't love Heathcliff, either.'

‘Who could love him? He's as tortured a creature as the vampire that lives in the attic of the dovecote.'

‘You will not listen to me. I must tell you this. It is important.'

‘Tell, then, Miss Cathy.'

‘Heaven. I dreamt once that I was there.'

‘I tell you I won't harken to your dreams, Miss Catherine! I'll walk away and leave you to make your own supper,' I interrupted again.

‘This is nothing,' she cried. ‘I was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home in this dream, and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth, and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights, where I woke sobbing for joy. That will explain my secret. I've no more business marrying Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven, and if that wicked brother of mine had not brought Heathcliff so low, I would never have considered marrying Edgar. But it would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now, so he will never know how I love him. And I say that not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same and Edgar's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.'

As her speech ended, I became aware of Heathcliff's dark presence. Having noticed a slight movement, I turned my head, and saw him rise from the bench and steal out noiselessly. He had listened till he heard Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and then he stayed to hear no more.

Cathy, sitting on the ground, was prevented by the back of the bench from noting his presence or departure, but I started, and bid her hush!

‘Why?' she asked, gazing around nervously.

‘Joseph is here,' I answered, opportunely hearing the roll of his cartwheels up the road. ‘Heathcliff will come in with him.'

‘Oh, he couldn't overhear me at the door!' said she. ‘When supper is ready, ask me to join you. I want to be sure Heathcliff has no idea what has happened to me today. He does not, does he? He does not know what being in love is.'