Wuthering Heights


Page 39 of 88



‘Catherine and Edgar are as fond of each other as any two people can be,’ cried Isabella, with sudden vivacity.  ‘No one has a right to talk in that manner, and I won’t hear my brother depreciated in silence!’

‘Your brother is wondrous fond of you too, isn’t he?’ observed Heathcliff, scornfully.  ‘He turns you adrift on the world with surprising alacrity.’

‘He is not aware of what I suffer,’ she replied.  ‘I didn’t tell him that.’

‘You have been telling him something, then: you have written, have you?’

‘To say that I was married, I did write—you saw the note.’

‘And nothing since?’

‘No.’

‘My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition,’ I remarked.  ‘Somebody’s love comes short in her case, obviously; whose, I may guess; but, perhaps, I shouldn’t say.’

‘I should guess it was her own,’ said Heathcliff.  ‘She degenerates into a mere slut!  She is tired of trying to please me uncommonly early.  You’d hardly credit it, but the very morrow of our wedding she was weeping to go home.  However, she’ll suit this house so much the better for not being over nice, and I’ll take care she does not disgrace me by rambling abroad.’

‘Well, sir,’ returned I, ‘I hope you’ll consider that Mrs. Heathcliff is accustomed to be looked after and waited on; and that she has been brought up like an only daughter, whom every one was ready to serve.  You must let her have a maid to keep things tidy about her, and you must treat her kindly.  Whatever be your notion of Mr. Edgar, you cannot doubt that she has a capacity for strong attachments, or she wouldn’t have abandoned the elegancies, and comforts, and friends of her former home, to fix contentedly, in such a wilderness as this, with you.’

‘She abandoned them under a delusion,’ he answered; ‘picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion.  I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the false impressions she cherished.  But, at last, I think she begins to know me: I don’t perceive the silly smiles and grimaces that provoked me at first; and the senseless incapability of discerning that I was in earnest when I gave her my opinion of her infatuation and herself.  It was a marvellous effort of perspicacity to discover that I did not love her.  I believed, at one time, no lessons could teach her that!  And yet it is poorly learnt; for this morning she announced, as a piece of appalling intelligence, that I had actually succeeded in making her hate me!  A positive labour of Hercules, I assure you!  If it be achieved, I have cause to return thanks.  Can I trust your assertion, Isabella?  Are you sure you hate me?  If I let you alone for half a day, won’t you come sighing and wheedling to me again?  I daresay she would rather I had seemed all tenderness before you: it wounds her vanity to have the truth exposed.  But I don’t care who knows that the passion was wholly on one side: and I never told her a lie about it.  She cannot accuse me of showing one bit of deceitful softness.  The first thing she saw me do, on coming out of the Grange, was to hang up her little dog; and when she pleaded for it, the first words I uttered were a wish that I had the hanging of every being belonging to her, except one: possibly she took that exception for herself.  But no brutality disgusted her: I suppose she has an innate admiration of it, if only her precious person were secure from injury!  Now, was it not the depth of absurdity—of genuine idiotcy, for that pitiful, slavish, mean-minded brach to dream that I could love her?  Tell your master, Nelly, that I never, in all my life, met with such an abject thing as she is.  She even disgraces the name of Linton; and I’ve sometimes relented, from pure lack of invention, in my experiments on what she could endure, and still creep shamefully cringing back!  But tell him, also, to set his fraternal and magisterial heart at ease: that I keep strictly within the limits of the law.  I have avoided, up to this period, giving her the slightest right to claim a separation; and, what’s more, she’d thank nobody for dividing us.  If she desired to go, she might: the nuisance of her presence outweighs the gratification to be derived from tormenting her!’

‘Mr. Heathcliff,’ said I, ‘this is the talk of a madman; your wife, most likely, is convinced you are mad; and, for that reason, she has borne with you hitherto: but now that you say she may go, she’ll doubtless avail herself of the permission.  You are not so bewitched, ma’am, are you, as to remain with him of your own accord?’

‘Take care, Ellen!’ answered Isabella, her eyes sparkling irefully; there was no misdoubting by their expression the full success of her partner’s endeavours to make himself detested.  ‘Don’t put faith in a single word he speaks.  He’s a lying fiend! a monster, and not a human being!  I’ve been told I might leave him before; and I’ve made the attempt, but I dare not repeat it!  Only, Ellen, promise you’ll not mention a syllable of his infamous conversation to my brother or Catherine.  Whatever he may pretend, he wishes to provoke Edgar to desperation: he says he has married me on purpose to obtain power over him; and he sha’n’t obtain it—I’ll die first!  I just hope, I pray, that he may forget his diabolical prudence and kill me!  The single pleasure I can imagine is to die, or to see him dead!’

‘There—that will do for the present!’ said Heathcliff.  ‘If you are called upon in a court of law, you’ll remember her language, Nelly!  And take a good look at that countenance: she’s near the point which would suit me.  No; you’re not fit to be your own guardian, Isabella, now; and I, being your legal protector, must retain you in my custody, however distasteful the obligation may be.  Go up-stairs; I have something to say to Ellen Dean in private.  That’s not the way: up-stairs, I tell you!  Why, this is the road upstairs, child!’

He seized, and thrust her from the room; and returned muttering—‘I have no pity!  I have no pity!  The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails!  It is a moral teething; and I grind with greater energy in proportion to the increase of pain.’

‘Do you understand what the word pity means?’ I said, hastening to resume my bonnet.  ‘Did you ever feel a touch of it in your life?’

‘Put that down!’ he interrupted, perceiving my intention to depart.  ‘You are not going yet.  Come here now, Nelly: I must either persuade or compel you to aid me in fulfilling my determination to see Catherine, and that without delay.  I swear that I meditate no harm: I don’t desire to cause any disturbance, or to exasperate or insult Mr. Linton; I only wish to hear from herself how she is, and why she has been ill; and to ask if anything that I could do would be of use to her.  Last night I was in the Grange garden six hours, and I’ll return there to-night; and every night I’ll haunt the place, and every day, till I find an opportunity of entering.  If Edgar Linton meets me, I shall not hesitate to knock him down, and give him enough to insure his quiescence while I stay.  If his servants oppose me, I shall threaten them off with these pistols.  But wouldn’t it be better to prevent my coming in contact with them, or their master?  And you could do it so easily.  I’d warn you when I came, and then you might let me in unobserved, as soon as she was alone, and watch till I departed, your conscience quite calm: you would be hindering mischief.’



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