Wuthering Heights | Page 8

of place in that pleasant family circle.
The dismal spiritual atmosphere overcame, and more than neutralised,
the glowing physical comforts round me; and I resolved to be cautious
how I ventured under those rafters a third time.
The business of eating being concluded, and no one uttering a word of
sociable conversation, I approached a window to examine the weather.
A sorrowful sight I saw: dark night coming down prematurely, and sky
and hills mingled in one bitter whirl of wind and suffocating snow.
'I don't think it possible for me to get home now without a guide,' I
could not help exclaiming. 'The roads will be buried already; and, if
they were bare, I could scarcely distinguish a foot in advance.'
'Hareton, drive those dozen sheep into the barn porch. They'll be
covered if left in the fold all night: and put a plank before them,' said
Heathcliff.
'How must I do?' I continued, with rising irritation.
There was no reply to my question; and on looking round I saw only
Joseph bringing in a pail of porridge for the dogs, and Mrs. Heathcliff
leaning over the fire, diverting herself with burning a bundle of
matches which had fallen from the chimney-piece as she restored the
tea-canister to its place. The former, when he had deposited his burden,
took a critical survey of the room, and in cracked tones grated out - 'Aw
wonder how yah can faishion to stand thear i' idleness un war, when all
on 'ems goan out! Bud yah're a nowt, and it's no use talking - yah'll
niver mend o'yer ill ways, but goa raight to t' divil, like yer mother
afore ye!'
I imagined, for a moment, that this piece of eloquence was addressed to
me; and, sufficiently enraged, stepped towards the aged rascal with an

intention of kicking him out of the door. Mrs. Heathcliff, however,
checked me by her answer.
'You scandalous old hypocrite!' she replied. 'Are you not afraid of
being carried away bodily, whenever you mention the devil's name? I
warn you to refrain from provoking me, or I'll ask your abduction as a
special favour! Stop! look here, Joseph,' she continued, taking a long,
dark book from a shelf; 'I'll show you how far I've progressed in the
Black Art: I shall soon be competent to make a clear house of it. The
red cow didn't die by chance; and your rheumatism can hardly be
reckoned among providential visitations!'
'Oh, wicked, wicked!' gasped the elder; 'may the Lord deliver us from
evil!'
'No, reprobate! you are a castaway - be off, or I'll hurt you seriously!
I'll have you all modelled in wax and clay! and the first who passes the
limits I fix shall - I'll not say what he shall be done to - but, you'll see!
Go, I'm looking at you!'
The little witch put a mock malignity into her beautiful eyes, and
Joseph, trembling with sincere horror, hurried out, praying, and
ejaculating 'wicked' as he went. I thought her conduct must be
prompted by a species of dreary fun; and, now that we were alone, I
endeavoured to interest her in my distress.
'Mrs. Heathcliff,' I said earnestly, 'you must excuse me for troubling
you. I presume, because, with that face, I'm sure you cannot help being
good-hearted. Do point out some landmarks by which I may know my
way home: I have no more idea how to get there than you would have
how to get to London!'
'Take the road you came,' she answered, ensconcing herself in a chair,
with a candle, and the long book open before her. 'It is brief advice, but
as sound as I can give.'
'Then, if you hear of me being discovered dead in a bog or a pit full of
snow, your conscience won't whisper that it is partly your fault?'

'How so? I cannot escort you. They wouldn't let me go to the end of the
garden wall.'
'YOU! I should be sorry to ask you to cross the threshold, for my
convenience, on such a night,' I cried. 'I want you to tell me my way,
not to SHOW it: or else to persuade Mr. Heathcliff to give me a guide.'
'Who? There is himself, Earnshaw, Zillah, Joseph and I. Which would
you have?'
'Are there no boys at the farm?'
'No; those are all.'
'Then, it follows that I am compelled to stay.'
'That you may settle with your host. I have nothing to do with it.'
'I hope it will be a lesson to you to make no more rash journeys on
these hills,' cried Heathcliff's stern voice from the kitchen entrance. 'As
to staying here, I don't keep accommodations for visitors: you must
share a bed with Hareton or Joseph, if you