Chapter 6 Chapter two

It was cold and foggy yesterday afternoon.I thought I'd just spend the afternoon by the fireside in the study, rather than tramping through the weeds and mud to Wuthering Heights. But, after lunch (note—I eat between twelve and one o'clock, a kindly lady, who may be an appendage to the house, cannot, or will, understand my request Intention of serving dinner at five o'clock), when I went upstairs with this lazy idea, and when I entered the house, I saw a maid kneeling on the ground, surrounded by a broom and a coal scuttle.She was sealing the fire with piles of cinders, creating a cloud of dust.The sight immediately drove me back.I took my hat, walked four miles, and arrived at the mouth of Heathcliff's garden, just escaping a heavy snow that fell early this year.

On that desolate mountaintop, the ground was hardened with a black layer of ice, and the cold air made my limbs shiver.Unable to get the chain off the door, I jumped in and ran down the stony path lined with creeping gooseberry bushes.I knocked on the door in vain for a long time, until my finger bones ached, and the dog barked. "Unlucky man!" I cried inwardly. "You deserve to be kept out of the crowd for life just because of your insolence. At least I won't bar the door during the day. I don't care--I'm going in!" So decided.I just grabbed the latch and shook it hard.Sad-faced Joseph poked his head out of a round window in the barn.

"What are you doing?" he yelled. "The master is in the cowshed. If you want to talk to him, go around this intersection." "Is no one in the house to open the door?" I also called out. "No one but my wife. She won't drive even if you make a fuss into the night." "Why? Can't you tell her who I am, er, Joseph?" "Don't look for me! I don't care about these business," the head grumbled, and disappeared again. The snow started to fall heavily.I took hold of the handle and tried again.Then a young man without a coat appeared in the back yard, carrying a rake.He beckoned me to follow him, through a laundry and a paved field, where there were coal sheds, pumps, and pigeon coops, until we reached at last the big warm, lively room where I had been received last.A roaring fire, a mixture of coal, charcoal, and wood, gave the room a glow.At the table where the sumptuous supper was being prepared, I was delighted to see the "Mrs.," whom I had never expected to exist.I bowed and waited, expecting her to tell me to sit down.She looked at me and leaned back in her chair without moving or making a sound.

"What a weather!" said I. "Mrs. Heathcliff, I'm afraid the gate will suffer a great deal from your servants' laziness. I have had trouble making them hear me knocking!" She couldn't speak.I stare—and she stares too.Anyway, she always stared at me with a cold, indifferent air, which was embarrassing and unpleasant. "Sit down," said the young man gruffly, "he's coming." I obeyed; coughed a little, and called out to Juno the vile dog.When it came to the second meeting, it finally appreciated me and wagged the tip of its tail to show that it recognized me as an acquaintance.

"What a beautiful dog!" I started talking again. "Are you going to get rid of these little ones, ma'am?" "Those are not mine," said the amiable hostess, in a more dry tone than Heathcliff himself could have answered. "Ah, your beloved is in this pile!" I went on, turning and pointing to a pile of cat-like things on an obscure cushion. "It's no wonder who loves these things!" she said contemptuously. Unfortunately, it turned out that it was a pile of dead rabbits.I coughed again, moved closer to the stove, and commented on the bad weather tonight.

"You shouldn't have come out in the first place," she said, getting up to get the two tinted tea caddies on the mantelpiece. She had been sitting where the light was shaded, but now I could see her whole body and features clearly.She was slender and clearly not yet past puberty.Nice body, and a wonderful little face I've never had the pleasure of seeing in my life.The facial features are slender and very beautiful.Curly flaxen hair, or rather blond, hung loosely about her delicate neck.As for the eyes, they would be irresistible if they were more pleasant.It was common to my emotional heart, for they expressed only an emotion somewhere between contempt and near despair, and it was peculiarly unnatural to see that look in that face.

She could barely reach the tea caddy.I moved, trying to help her.She turned sharply toward me, like a miser who sees someone trying to count his gold for him. "I don't want your help," she said angrily, "I can get it myself." "I'm sorry!" I quickly replied. "Have you been invited to tea?" she asked, tying an apron around her clean black dress, and stood there, taking a spoonful of tea leaves and just about to pour them into the teapot. "I'd love a cup of tea," I replied. "Did you come?" she asked again. "No," I said, forcing a smile. "You just bought me tea."

She threw back the tea leaves, put them away together with the tea spoon, and sat down on the chair impulsively.Her forehead was furrowed, and her red lower lip was pursed like a child about to cry. Meanwhile, the young man had put on a rather shabby coat, and was standing before the fire, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, as if there were some unfinished feud between us.I began to wonder if he was a servant after all.He was ill-bred in dress and speech, and quite devoid of that sense of superiority which was to be seen in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff.His thick brown curls were unkempt, his beard spread bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands were brown like those of an ordinary workman; yet his manner was free, almost haughty, and a little There is no domestic servant who waits on the mistress with the care and diligence.In the absence of clear evidence of his status, I thought it best to ignore his erratic behavior.Five minutes later Heathcliff came in, and somewhat rescued me from my uncomfortable position.

"You see, sir, I mean what I say, and I'm coming!" I cried, with feigned pleasure, "I'm afraid I'm going to be stuck in this weather for half an hour, and won't you let me take shelter for a while. " "Half an hour?" he said, shaking the flakes off his clothes. "I wonder why you pick such a snowy day to come out and wander. You know you risk getting lost and falling in the swamp? Familiar These people in the wilderness often get lost at night like this. And I can tell you that the weather will not turn good at present." "Perhaps I can find a guide among your servants, who can stay at the Grange until tomorrow morning—will you give me one?"

"No, I can not." "Ah! Really! Then I must rely on my own ability." "Humph!" "Isn't it time for you to prepare tea?" asked the man in the rags, turning his menacing eyes from me to the young lady. "Bring him a drink?" she asked Heathcliff. "Ready, will you?" was the answer, and it startled me with such savagery.The tone of the sentence revealed his true bad temper.I no longer want to call Heathcliff a wonderful man.When the tea was ready, he said to me, "Now, sir, move your chair over." And we all, including the rough young man, pulled up our chairs and sat around the table.There was a grim silence all around us as we tasted our food.

I figured that if I had caused the cloud, I was responsible for trying to disperse it.They couldn't sit so gloomy and silent every day.No matter how bad-tempered they are, it's impossible for them to wear a scowl every day. "The strange thing," I began, as I finished one cup of tea and took the second, "is the strange way how habit forms our tastes and thoughts, which many people, like you, Heathcliff, cannot imagine." Mr. Husband, there is happiness in such a life of complete isolation from the world. But I dare say that you have your family around you, and your lovely wife as your family and your soul. Lord of the—" "My lovely lady!" he put in, with an almost diabolical sneer. "Where is she—my lovely lady?" "I meant Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife." "Oh, yes—ah! You mean that even after her physical death her spirit stood in the house of god, and guarded the estate of Wuthering Heights. Is it this way? " I realized that I had made a mistake and tried to correct it.I should have seen that the age difference between the two parties was too large to be a husband and wife.One is about forty, which is the period of vigorous energy. During this period, men seldom harbor the illusion that girls will marry him because of love.That kind of dream is reserved for us to console ourselves in old age.As for the other person, he looked less than seventeen years old. Then a thought flashed into my mind, "That fool at my elbow, drinking tea from a basin and eating bread with unwashed hands, may be her husband: Master Heathcliff, of course. Nah, that's the logical consequence: she married that country bumpkin just because she didn't know there were better people in the world! Pity—I must take care that I don't make her regret her choice." Finally The idea seems a bit conceited, but it is not.The person next to me seemed almost obnoxious to me.From experience, I know that I am somewhat attractive. "Mrs. Heathcliff is my daughter-in-law," said Heathcliff, confirming my suspicions.As he spoke, he turned his head and looked at her with a special look: a look of hatred, unless the muscles in his face were extremely abnormal, he would not express the language of his heart like others. "Oh, of course—I see it now: you are the blessed occupant of this benevolent angel," I said, turning to the man next to me. Worse than before: the young man flushed and clenched his fists in a gesture of violence.But he seemed to regain his composure immediately, and suppressed the disturbance by grunting a rude curse at me, which I pretended not to notice. "Unfortunately you guess wrong, sir!" said my host, "we have neither the fortune to possess your good angel, whose man is dead. I said she was my daughter-in-law, and therefore she Of course she married my son." "This young man is—" "Of course not my son!" Heathcliff smiled again, as though it had been too rash a joke to count the brute as his son. "My name is Hareton Earnshaw," roared another, "and I beseech you to respect it!" "I didn't show disrespect," was my answer, laughing to myself at the solemnity with which he announced his name. He was staring at me so hard that I didn't want to stare back at him, lest I be tempted to slap him or laugh out loud.I began to feel that among this happy family I was indeed in the way.That mental gloom not only offset, but overwhelmed the bright physical comforts that surrounded me.I resolved to be careful the third time I ventured into the room again. After eating and drinking, without saying a word to anyone, I went to a window to check the weather.I beheld a dire scene: night fell early, sky and mountains mingled in a whirlwind of chill and suffocating snow. "I'm afraid I can't go home without a guide now," I couldn't help crying. "The road has been buried, even if it is still exposed, I can't see where to go." "Hareton, get those dozen sheep out on to the barn porch, they'll have to be covered if they stay in the pen all night, and have a board in front of them," said Heathcliff. "What should I do?" I said again, more anxiously. No one pays attention to me.Looking back, I saw Joseph bringing the dog a bucket of porridge, and Mrs. Heathcliff stooping over the fire, playing with the matches which she had just knocked down as she was putting the tea-caddy back on the stove.After Joseph put down his porridge bucket, he looked around the room like finding fault, and shouted in a hoarse voice: "I'm really surprised that everyone else has gone out, how can you just stand there idle! But you are worthless, and it's useless to say-you can't change it for the rest of your life, and you will see the devil after you die, just like your mother!" For a moment I thought this rant was addressed to me.I was very angry, so I went to the old rascal, intending to kick him out of the door.But Mrs Heathcliff's answer stopped me. "You prudish old bastard!" she answered. "Aren't you afraid of being caught alive when you mention the devil's name? I warn you not to mess with me, or I'll ask him especially to hook you up." .Stop! Look here, Joseph," she went on, taking a large black volume from the shelf, "I'm going to show you how far I've come in conjuring, and I'll soon be fully mastered. The Red Bull didn't die by accident, and your rheumatism is not a godsend!" "Oh, evil, evil!" gasped the old man, "Lord, save us from evil!" "No, bastard! You are a god-forsaken man—get out, or I'll hurt you badly! I'll mold you all out of wax and clay; whoever crosses the line I set first, I'll kill you." —I won't say what's going to happen to him—but look! Go, I'm watching you." There was a mocking malevolence in the little witch's beautiful eyes.Joseph was really shaking with fright, and ran out, praying as he ran, and yelling "Male!"Now it's just the two of us, and I want to complain to her. "Mrs. Heathcliff," I said earnestly, "you must forgive me for troubling you. I venture to do so because, with your face, I dare say you have a good heart. Point out a few Signposts, so I know my way home. I don't know how to get there at all, any more than you know how to get to London!" "Go back the way you came," she answered, still seated in her chair, with a candle and the large open book before her. "It's a very simple way, but it's also the safest way I can think of." "Then, if you hear later that I have been found dead in a bog or a snow-hole, won't your conscience whisper that you, too, are partly at fault?" "Why? I can't see you off. They won't let me go over the garden wall." "You see me off! I can't bear to ask you to step over this threshold for my convenience on such a night!" I cried, "I want you to tell me the way, not lead me. Or persuade Mr. Heathcliff to send me a guide." "Whom? Only himself, Earnshaw, Zillar, Joseph, and me. Which do you want?" "Are there no boys in the village?" "No, just these people." "That means I have to live here!" "Then you can discuss it with your master. I don't care." "I hope this is a lesson to you to stop wandering about these hills." Heathcliff sternly called from the kitchen door: "As for living here, I have no business to entertain. Equipment. If you want to live, you can share a bed with Hareton or Joseph!" "I could sleep on a chair in this room," I replied. "No, no! A stranger is always a stranger, rich or poor. I'm not used to letting anyone get where I can't guard!" said the impolite wretch. My patience is at an end with this insult.With a curse of great indignation, I brushed past him, and rushed out into the yard, bumping into Earnshaw in my haste.It was so dark that I could not find my way out; and as I was wandering, I heard another instance of cultivated manners between them: at first the young man seemed friendly to me. "I'll walk with him to the park," he said. "You go to hell with him!" cried his master, or some relative of his. "And who watches the horses, eh?" "A man's life is better than a horse left unattended all night. Somebody has to go," said Mrs. Heathcliff softly, more kindly than I had expected. "You don't order me!" Hareton countered. "If you value him, you'd better keep silent." "Then I hope his ghost haunts you, and I hope Mr. Heathcliff never finds another lodger until the Grange is all ruined!" she answered sharply. "Listen, listen, she's cursing them!" grunted Joseph as I walked toward him. He was sitting within earshot, milking the cows by the light of a lantern, which I rudely snatched away, yelling that I would bring it back tomorrow, and ran to the nearest side door. . "Master, master, he has stolen the lantern!" cried the old man, running after me. "Hey biter! Hey dog! Hey wolf! Get him, get him!" As soon as I opened the small door, two hairy monsters jumped at my throat, knocked me down, and put out the lamp.At the same time Heathcliff and Hareton laughed aloud, which greatly exasperated and humiliated me.Fortunately, the beasts seemed to want to stretch their paws, yawn, and wag their tails rather than swallow me alive.But they won't let me rise again, and I'll have to lie down and wait for their wicked masters to come and deliver me when they please.I also lost my hat, shaking with anger.I ordered these brigands to let me out--keep me a minute longer, and they would be doomed--and I said many incoherent, threatening, vengeful words, in a vicious, King Lear style. . ①King Lear——"Kinglear" is one of Shakespeare's famous plays, and the title of the play is named after the protagonist King Lear. My violent agitation caused me to bleed profusely, but Heathcliff was still laughing, and I was still cursing, and I would not have liked to have had some one beside me who was more reasonable than I was, and kinder than my entertainer. Know how to step down.This person is Zira, the robust housekeeper.She finally stepped forward to find out the truth of the battle.She thought that someone among them must have murdered me.Not daring to attack her master, she opened fire on the young ruffian. "Well, Mr. Earnshaw," she cried, "I don't know what you're going to do next time! Are we going to murder at our door? I don't think I can live any longer in this house." La--look at the poor boy, he's choking to death! Hey, hey! You can't go like this. Come in, and I'll fix you. Come, hold still." As she said these words, she suddenly poured a bucket of cold water down my neck and pulled me into the kitchen again.Mr. Heathcliff followed, his occasional gaiety soon wearing off, and reverting to his habitual gloom. I was so upset and dizzy that I had to spend the night at his house.He told Zilla to give me a brandy, and went into the house.For her part, she comforted my misadventure, and, as the master ordered, gave me a glass of brandy, and seeing that I had recovered somewhat, she led me to bed.