Wuthering Heights | Page 9

do.'
'I can sleep on a chair in this room,' I replied.
'No, no! A stranger is a stranger, be he rich or poor: it will not suit me
to permit any one the range of the place while I am off guard!' said the
unmannerly wretch.
With this insult my patience was at an end. I uttered an expression of
disgust, and pushed past him into the yard, running against Earnshaw in
my haste. It was so dark that I could not see the means of exit; and, as I
wandered round, I heard another specimen of their civil behaviour
amongst each other. At first the young man appeared about to befriend
me.
'I'll go with him as far as the park,' he said.
'You'll go with him to hell!' exclaimed his master, or whatever relation

he bore. 'And who is to look after the horses, eh?'
'A man's life is of more consequence than one evening's neglect of the
horses: somebody must go,' murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more kindly
than I expected.
'Not at your command!' retorted Hareton. 'If you set store on him, you'd
better be quiet.'
'Then I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope Mr. Heathcliff will
never get another tenant till the Grange is a ruin,' she answered,
sharply.
'Hearken, hearken, shoo's cursing on 'em!' muttered Joseph, towards
whom I had been steering.
He sat within earshot, milking the cows by the light of a lantern, which
I seized unceremoniously, and, calling out that I would send it back on
the morrow, rushed to the nearest postern.
'Maister, maister, he's staling t' lanthern!' shouted the ancient, pursuing
my retreat. 'Hey, Gnasher! Hey, dog! Hey Wolf, holld him, holld him!'
On opening the little door, two hairy monsters flew at my throat,
bearing me down, and extinguishing the light; while a mingled guffaw
from Heathcliff and Hareton put the copestone on my rage and
humiliation. Fortunately, the beasts seemed more bent on stretching
their paws, and yawning, and flourishing their tails, than devouring me
alive; but they would suffer no resurrection, and I was forced to lie till
their malignant masters pleased to deliver me: then, hatless and
trembling with wrath, I ordered the miscreants to let me out - on their
peril to keep me one minute longer - with several incoherent threats of
retaliation that, in their indefinite depth of virulency, smacked of King
Lear.
The vehemence of my agitation brought on a copious bleeding at the
nose, and still Heathcliff laughed, and still I scolded. I don't know what
would have concluded the scene, had there not been one person at hand

rather more rational than myself, and more benevolent than my
entertainer. This was Zillah, the stout housewife; who at length issued
forth to inquire into the nature of the uproar. She thought that some of
them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her
master, she turned her vocal artillery against the younger scoundrel.
'Well, Mr. Earnshaw,' she cried, 'I wonder what you'll have agait next?
Are we going to murder folk on our very door-stones? I see this house
will never do for me - look at t' poor lad, he's fair choking! Wisht, wisht;
you mun'n't go on so. Come in, and I'll cure that: there now, hold ye
still.'
With these words she suddenly splashed a pint of icy water down my
neck, and pulled me into the kitchen. Mr. Heathcliff followed, his
accidental merriment expiring quickly in his habitual moroseness.
I was sick exceedingly, and dizzy, and faint; and thus compelled
perforce to accept lodgings under his roof. He told Zillah to give me a
glass of brandy, and then passed on to the inner room; while she
condoled with me on my sorry predicament, and having obeyed his
orders, whereby I was somewhat revived, ushered me to bed.
CHAPTER III

WHILE leading the way upstairs, she recommended that I should hide
the candle, and not make a noise; for her master had an odd notion
about the chamber she would put me in, and never let anybody lodge
there willingly. I asked the reason. She did not know, she answered:
she had only lived there a year or two; and they had so many queer
goings on, she could not begin to be curious.
Too stupefied to be curious myself, I fastened my door and glanced
round for the bed. The whole furniture consisted of a chair, a
clothes-press, and a large oak case, with squares cut out near the top
resembling coach windows. Having approached this structure, I looked
inside, and perceived it to be a singular sort of old- fashioned couch,

very conveniently designed to obviate the necessity for every member
of the family having a room to himself.