Wuthering Bites (9 page)

‘I see no reason that he should not know,' I returned. ‘And if you were his choice, he'd be a most unfortunate creature! As soon as you become Mrs. Linton, he loses friend, and love, and all! Have you considered how you'll bear the separation, and how he'll stand to be so deserted in the world?'

‘He won't be deserted or separated!' she exclaimed, with indignation. ‘Who is to separate us, pray? Not as long as I live, Nelly, not for any mortal creature will we ever be separated. Every Linton on the face of the earth could be devoured by the vampires and turned into the heartless creatures before I could consent to forsake Heathcliff. Surely you didn't think that's what I intend to do by marrying Edgar? Heathcliff will be as much to me as he has been all his lifetime. Edgar will have to tolerate him, and he will, when he learns my true feeling toward him. Nelly, I know you think me a selfish wretch, but did it never occur to you that if Heathcliff and I married, we would be gypsy beggars? Him selling his service of escorting fat women to church so their husbands do not have to fret they'll be eaten on their way? We'd be living like the other gypsy slayers, town to town, sleeping in the woods and in deserted barns. I should have to dance barefoot and ragged for fat rich men with bad breath and learn to cheat at tarot. But if I marry Linton, I can help Heathcliff rise and place him out of my brother's power.'

‘With your husband's money, Miss Catherine?' I asked. ‘I think that's the worst motive you've given yet for being the wife of young Linton.'

‘It is not,' she retorted. ‘It's the best! My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries. If all else perished, and
he
remained, I would still continue to be. If all else remained, and he were annihilated, I would no longer be a part of the universe. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods; time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath, a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I
am
Heathcliff! So don't talk of our separation again; it is impracticable.'

She paused and hid her face in the folds of my gown, but I jerked it forcibly away. I was out of patience with her folly! ‘If I can make any sense of your nonsense, miss,' I said, ‘it only goes to show me that you are ignorant of the duties of a wife, or else that you are a wicked, unprincipled girl. Trouble me with no more secrets. I'll not promise to keep them.'

‘You'll keep that?' she asked, eagerly.

‘I'll not promise,' I repeated.

She was about to insist, when Joseph entered, ending our conversation.

‘Where's Heathcliff?' demanded the old man, looking around.

‘I'll call him,' I replied. ‘He's in the barn, no doubt. Miss Cathy, do sit here on this settle and mind my knitting.'

‘Since when does knitting need minding?' Joseph asked suspiciously.

‘Just last week the dogs did seize a jumper I had near complete. They tore and unraveled it until there was nothing to do but throw away good wool.' I motioned to Cathy, and she came without protest and sat on the seat that hid the boy. I did not trust Joseph. I did not like the darkness I saw in his eyes, a darkness that had not always been there. Leaving the child to his mercy might have been the poor babe's undoing.

So Cathy protected the boy and I went and called for Heathcliff, but got no answer. Returning, now frightened, I whispered to Catherine that I feared Heathcliff had heard a good part of what she said, and told how I saw him leave the kitchen when she said she could not marry him.

Hearing that, she ran to seek him. She was absent so long that I made supper and Joseph proposed we should wait no longer and dine without her. We had just sat down when the young mistress returned and ordered him to run down the road and find Heathcliff and bring him back. Joseph objected at first, but she was so upset that he finally placed his hat on his head and walked out.

Meantime, Catherine paced up and down the floor.

‘I wonder where he is—I wonder where he
can
be!'

‘It's surely no great cause of alarm that Heathcliff should take a moonlight saunter on the moors, or even lie in the hayloft too sulky to speak. I bet he's lurking there,' I said. ‘See if I don't ferret him out!'

I departed to renew my search, but did not find him.

‘I don't know where he's gotten!' observed Joseph on his return. ‘He's left the gate open and the miss's pony has trodden down two rows of corn!'

‘I don't care about the corn! Have you found Heathcliff, you ass?' demanded Catherine. ‘Have you been looking for him as I ordered?'

‘Be better I look for the horse,' he replied. ‘Before it's as drained of every drop of blood as the dun cow.'

It was a very dark evening for summer, and I suggested we all sit down to eat. I was certain the approaching rain would bring Heathcliff home. Catherine, however, kept wandering back and forth from the gate to the door, in a state of agitation.

Every once in a while, she would throw a look over her shoulder in the direction of the closed parlor where her brother and his fiendish friends kept company. ‘Why does he bring them here?' she demanded. ‘Does he realize he plays with fire? One day one of them will lose patience with him and his cards and devour him and then the rest of us.'

‘Not so long as he continues to lose, I think,' I suggested, trying to put a bit of humor in the bad situation.

But Catherine saw no humor in the day and returned again and again to the gate, and soon great raindrops began to splash around her. About midnight, while we still sat up, the storm came rattling over the Heights in full fury. There was a violent wind, as well as thunder and lightning. A huge bough fell across the roof and knocked down a portion of the east chimney stack, sending a clatter of stones and soot into the kitchen fire.

Having not seen Mr. Earnshaw since he locked himself away with his gory playmates, I shook the door handle of his den, trying to ascertain if he was still alive or if they had finally done him in. Almost to my surprise, he replied, sending me back to the kitchen. There, I found Cathy, who got thoroughly drenched, standing bonnetless and shawlless to catch as much water as she could with her hair and clothes. She lay down on the kitchen bench, all soaked as she was, turning her face to the back, and curling into a fetal position.

‘Well, miss!' I exclaimed, touching her shoulder. ‘Intent on getting your death, are you? Do you know what time it is? Half past twelve. Come to bed! There's no use waiting longer on that foolish boy. He's probably gone to Gimmerton or run off with his gypsy cousins.'

‘Nay,' she murmured, her back still to me. ‘He's gone. And the vampires shall fall upon him and devour him.'

‘Not Heathcliff,' I said. ‘I would put my last penny on him to come out best in a fight with a nest of the worst.'

‘You only say so to comfort me.'

‘I say so because it is the truth. He has some sort of power over them and you know it.'

‘I know nothing of the sort,' Missy Cathy flung back at me.

Giving one last try to get her up and change out of her wet clothes, I retrieved the boy from the settle compartment and took him and myself to bed. In the morning, I found Miss Catherine still seated near the fireplace and Hindley just entering. He looked haggard and drowsy, but still alive after another night of gambling with the beasties.

‘What ails you, Cathy?' he was saying when I entered. ‘You look as dismal as a drowned whelp. Why are you so pale, child?'

‘I've been wet,' she answered reluctantly, ‘and I'm cold, that's all.'

‘She got soaked in the rain last night, and there she has sat the night through.' I didn't want to mention Heathcliff's absence, as long as I could conceal it, so I said nothing of why the miss had gotten herself rained on.

The morning was fresh and cool and I threw back the shutters, but Catherine protested peevishly. ‘Nelly, shut the window.' And her teeth chattered as she shrank closer to the almost extinguished embers.

‘She's ill,' said Hindley, taking her wrist. ‘I suppose that's the reason she would not go to bed. Damn it! I don't want to be troubled with more sickness here. Why were you in the rain?'

She looked at me, then addressed her brother. ‘Edgar Linton came yesterday, Hindley. I told him to be off because I knew you wouldn't like him here with you gone.'

‘You are a confounded simpleton, Cathy! Never mind Linton. Tell me the truth, were you with Heathcliff last night? You don't have to be afraid of me harming him. Though I hate him as much as ever, he has done me several good turns lately that will prevent me from offering his blood or yours to my companions in exchange for my debts. To prevent it, I shall send him from Wuthering Heights for good.'

‘I never saw Heathcliff last night,' answered Catherine, beginning to sob bitterly. ‘And if you do turn him out, I'll go with him. But, perhaps, you'll never have the opportunity now. I think he's already gone.' Then she burst into uncontrollable grief, and the rest of her words were lost to her sobs.

Hindley bid her get to her room immediately or he would give her reason to cry, and I encouraged her to obey. I will never forget how she behaved when we reached her chamber. She terrified me, wailing and thrashing about. I thought she was going mad, fearing the worst. What if she had been bitten when she was outside in the rain? One never knew how or why the devils chose one person over another to become one of their own. Keeping clear of her teeth, I begged Joseph to run for the doctor.

The doctor pronounced her dangerously ill. She had a fever and he said she was delirious. He bled her, and told me to feed her whey and water gruel and a little powdered bat bone, if I had any, and take care that she did not throw herself down the stairs or out the window. It wasn't until we stepped outside that I dared ask, ‘Do you think she's infected?' All I could think of was little Georgie and the parlor maid he supped on.

‘Has she come in contact with them?' the good doctor asked. Never once in our exchange did he speak the word
vampire.
It was always
them
or
they.
Rather odd for a man of such education, I thought.

‘Come in contact?' I exclaimed, wondering if he had gone daft. ‘Haven't we all?'

‘If they have, there's naught we can do about it now. All we can do is keep a close watch,' he whispered.

Watch for what?
I wanted to ask.
Dead pigeons and parlor maids?
But I didn't say it. Instead, I let him out of the house and returned to my charge after stopping off in my bedchamber to add an extra circlet of garlic to my neck. At least if Miss Cathy became one of the beasties, she would not take me by the neck.

I cannot say I made a gentle nurse, but slowly, with time, my patient recovered, showing no signs of possession beyond her usual wearisome and headstrong self. Old Mrs. Linton paid us several visits, and scolded and ordered us around, and when Catherine was well enough to travel, she insisted on conveying her to Thrushcross Grange. I for one was glad to see her go, but the poor dame should have been more careful where she laid her kindness. She and her husband both took the fever, and died within a few days of each other.

Catherine returned to us, saucier and more passionate, and haughtier than ever. Heathcliff had never been heard of since the night of the thunderstorm, and one day when I was missing the young man, I made the mistake of laying the blame of his disappearance on her. She knew very well I was right, but for several months after that, she didn't speak to me beyond the manner a mistress would speak to her lowest servant.

She kept herself aloof from Mr. Earnshaw and his bloody-toothed companions, who came and went all time of day and night as if the door were a turnstile. I have never seen the likes of it! So many vampires that the cloak rack was weighed down and their black, stinking garments littered the staircase railing, yet in that time that Heathcliff was gone, not one human at the Heights was harmed by the slinking creatures. Oh, a goat here, a calf there, and piles of rodents were sucked dry, but never one of us.

Catherine became so known for her rages that her brother allowed her whatever she pleased to avoid aggravating her fiery temper. He was too indulgent in humoring her, not from affection, but from pride. It was his wish to see her bring honor to the family by marrying Edgar Linton, and I think he had an eye on the young man's cash box, for I suspected his own was dwindling.

Edgar Linton was infatuated with Catherine as all men are infatuated with that which has yet to be plucked. He believed himself the happiest man alive on the day he led her to Gimmerton chapel, three years after his father's death.

Much against my inclination, I was persuaded to leave Wuthering Heights and accompany her here to Thrushcross Grange. Little Hareton was nearly five years old, and I had just begun to teach him his letters. When I refused to go, Mr. Linton offered me generous wages and Mr. Earnshaw declared he wanted no women in the house, now that there was no mistress. He didn't give a beggar's rotten fig about Hareton. So I had no choice but to leave Wuthering Heights.

 

At this point of the housekeeper's story, she glanced toward the clock over the chimney and was amazed to see it was half past one. She would not hear of staying a second longer and vanished to her bed, leaving me no choice but to seek mine. Before I went, however, I was careful to latch the door and, having no garlic to spare in my bedchamber, I carried the tin of garlic tea from the table and sprinkled it liberally in front of the doors and windows. To my bed, I took the new sleep cap Mrs. Dean had made me, and my tiny silver dagger.

W
hat a charming introduction I've had to a hermit's life! I've been sick in bed for four weeks, so miserable, I wished some vampire would slip beneath my door and kill me while I sleep, sending me on to my great reward. I have never in my life seen such bleak winds and bitter northern skies. The roads are impassable and the doctor warns that I may not be outside again until spring! Dying at the teeth of a bloodsucker could not be more painful than slowly suffocating from boredom and lingering affliction.

After four weeks of lying on my deathbed, I find myself bored. I'm too weak to read, but I'm desperate for a little enjoyment in celebration of the fact that I may survive my illness. Why not have up Mrs. Dean to finish her tale? She left off when the hero Heathcliff had been gone three years with no word from him, and the heroine had just married the man she did not love. I was eager to hear the remainder of the tale.

I rang for Mrs. Dean. “Come and take your seat here,” I begged when she thrust her head through the open doorway. “Take your knitting from your pocket and continue your story of Mr. Heathcliff, from where you left off. Leave nothing out,” I told her with the first excitement I've felt in weeks. “I must know how the rogue went from the outcast gypsy lad to the man of wealth and prominence he is today. Did he finish his education on the Continent, and come back a gentleman? Make a fortune on the English highways? He was on his way to becoming a great vampire slayer before he took his leave. Surely his abilities must somehow be connected to his current wealth!”

“He could have done a little of each for all I know, Mr. Lockwood. No one knows how he gained his money or how he was able to become educated.”

“It's certainly not the path of the gypsy slayers,” I interjected.

Mrs. Dean made herself comfortable in the chair beside my bed and assumed a canny expression. “I'll tell what happened, sir, but in my own words, in my own time. Are you sure you're feeling up to this?”

“I am very much up to it, Mrs. Dean,” I said, settling myself back on a mound of goose-down pillows.

 

Well, after the wedding, I went with Miss Catherine to Thrushcross Grange, and, to my surprise, she behaved infinitely better than I expected. In those early days, she almost seemed fond of Mr. Linton, and his sister, too. The Lintons were very attentive to Miss Catherine's comfort. Of course, it was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. But there were no mutual concessions; Miss Catherine stood erect, while the other two always yielded. Who
can
be ill-natured and bad-tempered when they never encounter opposition?

From the beginning, Mr. Edgar was afraid of rousing Miss Catherine's temper. You know how willful she was, and marriage had not softened her. If he heard me or any other servants speak sharply to her or deny her any whim, he had no trouble showing his displeasure to us. Many times he spoke sternly to me about my pertness; nothing pained him more than to see his lady vexed.

But he was a good master, so I learned to hold my tongue, and for six months there was peace in the house. Catherine had seasons of gloom and silence occasionally, but they were respected with sympathizing silence by her husband. He seemed to think it was her illness after the big thunderstorm that produced the occasional melancholy. And when she smiled again, he met her with a smile. I have to say that in those early days of the marriage, I almost convinced myself they were truly happy together.

The happiness ended. On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a heavy basket of apples I'd picked. Dusk had fallen upon me rather quickly and I was in a hurry to make it beyond closed doors with my full volume of blood. The vampires had been relatively quiet those years, but they were always there, always lurking, always ready to snatch a field hand too slow in returning to the barn or a granny who roamed from her parlor into the garden after dark. Some nights, I vow, I would hear the squeak of their nails on the windowpanes or catch a glimpse of ivory fangs in the darkness.

As I hurried through the garden at twilight, I saw undefined shadows lurking in the corners of the house and I touched the tin ball of garlic I wore around my neck. The basket of apples was heavy, so when I reached the relative safety of the kitchen door, I set it down. I swear, I only lingered for a moment, but as I righted myself, I heard a voice behind me say—

‘Nelly, is that you?'

My first thought, of course, was that one of those devils had slipped through the garden gate and was preparing to devour me. But what vampire addressed its victim first? By first name?

Then I realized I recognized the deep voice and I spun around. I saw no one, and the hair rose on the back of my neck. Something stirred on the porch, and, moving nearer, I distinguished a tall man dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair. He held his fingers on the latch as if he intended to enter.

I reached for a rake, abandoned by someone at the door. I feared it wouldn't be enough to fight off a bloodsucker, but it was the only weapon within my grasp unless I attempted to pummel the beastie with apples.

‘I have waited here an hour,' he said. ‘And the whole time I've been here, the house was as still as death. I dared not enter.'

I raised the rake to threaten him.

He stared at me in the darkness. ‘What's the matter, Nelly? Don't you know me?'

A ray of silvery moonlight fell on his features; the cheeks were sallow, and half covered with whiskers; the brows low, the eyes deep set and singular. It was his eyes I recognized.

I flung the rake into the bushes and raised my hands to my face in amazement. ‘You've come back? Is it really you? Is it?'

‘Yes, it's Heathcliff,' he replied, glancing from me up to the windows, which did not glow with light. ‘Are they at home? Where is she? Don't look so disturbed. Is she here? Speak! I want to have one word with her—your mistress. Please go, and tell her a person from Gimmerton desires to see her.'

‘How will she take it?' I exclaimed. ‘What will she do? You
are
Heathcliff! But a changed man! I can't comprehend it.' I stared at him, for he was the same and yet not. ‘Where have you been for the last three and a half years?'

‘Go carry my message,' he insisted impatiently. ‘I'm in hell till you do!'

I entered the house, but when I got to the above-stairs parlor where Mr. and Mrs. Linton were, I hesitated in the doorway. They sat together in a window whose lattice lay back against the wall, and displayed, beyond the garden trees and the wild green park, the valley of Gimmerton, with a long line of mist winding nearly to its top. Wuthering Heights rose above this silvery vapor.

The scene in the parlor, husband and wife, seated in the window together, looked so peaceful that I considered lighting a few candles and then leaving the room without saying a word of Mr. Heathcliff's presence outside. But I knew he would not leave until he saw her. ‘A person from Gimmerton wishes to see you, ma'am,' I muttered.

‘What does he want?' asked Mrs. Linton.

‘I didn't ask.' I hated to deceive her, but I dared not cross him. Somehow, I realized this new Heathcliff was even more formidable than the reckless ruffian gypsy of his youth.

‘Well, close the curtains, Nelly,' she said, ‘and bring up tea. I'll be back in a moment,' she said to her husband.

She left the room and Mr. Edgar inquired, carelessly, who it was.

‘Someone the mistress doesn't expect,' I replied. ‘That Heathcliff—you remember him, sir—who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw's.'

‘The gypsy plough-boy?' he asked. ‘The one who was always sparring with the vampires on the moors? Why did you not say so to Catherine?'

‘You shouldn't speak of him that way, sir. She'll be very upset if she hears you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off. I'm sure seeing him now will make her very happy.'

Mr. Linton walked to a window on the other side of the room that overlooked the court. He unfastened the window and leaned out. ‘Don't stand there in the dark, love! It's not safe,' he called down. ‘Bring your guest in.'

A few moments later, Catherine flew up the stairs, breathless and wild. ‘Oh, Edgar!' she panted, flinging her arms around his neck. ‘Edgar, darling! Heathcliff's come back!'

‘Well, don't strangle me,' her husband chided crossly. ‘I never found him that impressive. There's no need to be frantic!'

‘I know you didn't like him,' she said, stepping back. ‘But, for my sake, you must be friends now. Should I tell him to come up?'

He looked vexed, and suggested the kitchen as a more suitable place for him.

Mrs. Linton eyed him with a droll expression—half angry, half laughing at his fastidiousness. ‘No,' she said. ‘I will not sit in the kitchen. Set two tables here, Nelly, one for your master and Miss Isabella, being gentry, the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders. Will that please you, dear?' She was about to dart off again, but Edgar stopped her.

‘Stay here and let Nelly go for him. And please calm down. I don't like the idea of the whole household witnessing the sight of you welcoming a runaway servant as if he were your brother.'

I escorted Heathcliff to the parlor where the master and mistress waited, and when he entered, Catherine sprang forward, took both his hands, and led him to Linton.

Seeing him for the first time in full light, I have to say, Mr. Lockwood, I was amazed, more than ever, to behold Heathcliff's transformation. He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside him, my master seemed quite slender and youth-like. His posture suggested the idea of his having been in the army, but I wondered if that was the result of further training in vampire slaying. His countenance was much older in expression; he looked intelligent and retained no marks of former degradation. There was still that half-civilized ferocity lurking in his dark brows and eyes that were full of black fire, but his manner was dignified.

My master's surprise equaled or exceeded mine, and for a minute he didn't know how to address the
plough-boy,
as he had called him.

‘Sit down, sir,' Mr. Linton finally said. ‘Mrs. Linton is pleased to see you.'

Heathcliff took a seat opposite Catherine, who stared at him as if she was afraid he might vanish. He did not raise his gaze to hers often, but a quick glance now and then sufficed.

As time passed, Mr. Edgar grew pale with annoyance. His displeasure reached a climax when his wife rose and seized Heathcliff's hands again, and laughed.

‘I still think I'm dreaming!' she cried. Together they walked over to the window. ‘I can't believe you're here! But you've been so cruel, to be absent more than three years and never to think of me. You don't deserve this welcome.'

‘I've thought of you more than you've thought of me, apparently,' he murmured. ‘I heard of your marriage, Cathy, not long since, and, while waiting in the yard below, I meditated my plan. I just wanted one glimpse of your face and then afterward, I was going to settle my score with Hindley and then kill myself so the law didn't have to. But now that I've seen you and you've welcomed me this way, my plan will have to be altered. You really did miss me, didn't you? And I you. My time away has not been an easy one, but my struggles have been for you!'

‘Catherine, unless we are to have cold tea, please come to the table,' interrupted Linton, striving to preserve a due measure of politeness. ‘Mr. Heathcliff will have a long walk, wherever he may be lodging tonight, and I'm thirsty.'

Miss Isabella joined them and they all sat down. The meal hardly lasted ten minutes. Catherine could neither eat nor drink, and Edgar scarcely swallowed a mouthful.

Mr. Heathcliff didn't stay an hour longer and I asked, as he departed, if he went to Gimmerton.

‘No, to Wuthering Heights,' he answered. ‘Mr. Earnshaw invited me to stay.'

Mr. Earnshaw invited
him!
And
he
called on Mr. Earnshaw! I pondered this sentence long after he was gone, and had a feeling, in the bottom of my heart, that it would have been better had he never come home.

In the middle of the night, that night, Miss Catherine woke me. ‘I cannot rest, Nelly, and I need you to keep me company. Edgar is sulky, because I'm happy to have Heathcliff home and he couldn't care less. I barely said a word to Edgar about him and Edgar began to cry, so I left.'

‘Why praise Heathcliff to him?' I answered sleepily. ‘Keep quiet about him. You want them to openly quarrel? It's only human nature. Neither man wants to hear about the other.'

‘That's ridiculous,' she said, settling on the edge of my bed. ‘I'm not envious of the brightness of Isabella's yellow hair and the whiteness of her skin. It pleases her brother to see us cordial, and that pleases me. But they are very much alike; they are spoiled children, and I find I must humor them both.'

‘You're mistaken, Mrs. Linton,' said I. ‘They humor you. You can afford to indulge their passing whims as long as they are trying to please you. There might, however, be something someday that is important to both you and Mr. Linton.'

‘Then we would have to fight to the death, wouldn't we, Nelly?' she returned, leaping up and grabbing my hairbrush off the bedside table. She used it as if it were a dagger, sweeping it this way and that as she danced in the darkness. ‘Just the way Heathcliff taught me when I was a girl. You know he taught me how to defend myself, should a vampire attack me.' She laughed at the thought. ‘I won't listen to your nonsense. I have such faith in Linton's love that I believe I might kill him, and he wouldn't wish to retaliate.'

I plucked my hairbrush from her hand and advised her to value her husband more for his affection toward her.

‘I do,' she answered. ‘But why must he whine? It's childish. Why should he melt into tears just because I suggested that Heathcliff was now worthy of regard? He might as well get used to him; he might even find he likes him.'