Chapter 38 Chapter Thirty-Four

For several days after that evening, Mr. Heathcliff avoided meeting us at dinner; but he was unwilling to admit formally that he did not want Hareton and Kitty to be present.He loathed himself for giving himself up entirely to his feelings, and would have preferred not to come himself; And one meal in twenty-four hours seemed to him enough. One night when the whole family was asleep, I heard him come downstairs and out the front door.I didn't hear him come in again, and in the morning I found he still hadn't come back.It was April, the weather was mild and pleasant, the grass was as green as it could be nourished by the rain and the sun, and the two dwarf apple trees against the south wall were in full bloom.After breakfast Catherine insisted that I take out a chair with my work and sit under the fir-tree at the end of the house, and she induced Hareton, who had long since left his misfortunes, to excavate and arrange her The little garden, the little garden, had been moved into that corner, under the influence of Joseph's complaints.I was enjoying the scent of spring all around me and the beautiful pale blue sky above my head when my lady, who had run to the gate to gather some primrose-root beds, returned with only half of it, and told We, Mr. Heathcliff, come in. "He's still talking to me," she added, bewildered.

"What did he say?" asked Hareton. "He told me to go away as fast as I could," she replied. "But he looked so different from usual, so I just stared at him for a while." "How is it different?" he asked. "Well, almost elated, quite happy. No, hardly anything— So excited, eager, and happy! " "The evening walks amuse him, then," I said, with an air of indifference.In fact, I was as surprised as she was, and wanted to confirm the facts she said, because it is not every day that you can see the happy face of the master.I made up an excuse and walked over.Heathcliff stood at the door.His face was pale, and he was trembling, but there was indeed a strange joyous gleam in his eyes which transformed his whole countenance.

"Would you like some breakfast?" I said. "You've been wandering all night, you must be hungry!" I want to know where he is, but I don't want to ask directly. "No, I'm not hungry," he answered, turning his head almost contemptuously, as if he guessed that I was trying to speculate on the reason for his interest. I feel very confused.I wonder if now is the right time to give counsel. "I don't think it's right to loiter about without going to bed," I said, "at any rate, it's not wise in this wet season. I dare say you're going to catch a cold, or have a fever: You are a little bit wrong now!"

"I can bear anything," he answered, "and with great pleasure, if you leave me alone: ​​come in, and leave me alone." I obeyed; as I walked past him, I noticed he was breathing like a cat. "Yes," I thought to myself, "there's going to be a serious illness. I can't think what he just did." He sat down to eat with us at noon that day, and took a piled-up plate from me, as if he was trying to make up for a previous hunger strike. "I don't have a cold or a fever, Nelly," he said, referring to what I'd said in the morning, "I'll appreciate you for giving me these."

He picked up his knife and fork, and was about to start eating when he suddenly changed his mind.He put his knife and fork on the table, looked eagerly at the window, then got up and went out.When we had finished we saw him walking up and down the garden, and Earnshaw said he would have to ask why he hadn't eaten: he thought we must be hurting him somehow. "Hello, is he here?" cried Catherine, when her cousin returned. "No," he answered, "but he's not angry. He really doesn't seem so happy; but I've said twice to him that he's impatient, and then he asks me to come to you; he wonders at me. Why do you need someone else to accompany you?"

I left his plate warming on the grate, and after an hour or two he came in again, when the house was out, and he was not much calmer: the same unnatural look was still showing under his black eyebrows. — unnatural indeed — an expression of joy.Still bloodless, his teeth now and then showed a sort of smile; he was shaking, not like a man shivering with cold or feebleness, but like a taut string vibrating—a sort of Strong tremors, not shaking anymore. I thought, I must ask what is the matter; otherwise who should ask?I cried out: "What good news have you heard, Mr. Heathcliff? You look very excited."

"Where will the good news come to me?" he said. "I'm so hungry that I can't seem to eat." "Here is your meal," I replied, "why don't you take it and eat it?" "I don't want it now," he murmured hastily. "I'll wait until supper time, Nelly, just this once, and I beg you to warn Hareton and the others to keep away from me. I just hope no one bothers me. I'd like to be here by myself." "Is there any new reason for such isolation?" I asked. "Tell me why you are so queer, Mr. Heathcliff? Where were you last night? I don't ask this out of idle curiosity, but—"

"You're asking this out of very idle curiosity," he interrupted, with a laugh. "But I want to answer you. Last night I was on the threshold of hell. Today I can see my heaven. I saw it with my own eyes, within three feet of me! Now you'd better go away! You won't see or hear anything that scares you if you keep yourself in check and don't pry." After sweeping the stove and wiping the table, I walked away, more bewildered. He did not leave the house again that afternoon, and no one disturbed his solitude, until at eight o'clock, though I was not summoned, I thought it time to bring him a candle and his supper.

He was leaning against the open window-sill, but not looking out; his face was turned into the darkness of the room.The fire was reduced to ashes; the damp mild air of an overcast evening filled the room; so still that not only the murmur of Gimmerton's water could be distinctly heard, but its ripples, and its It can also be heard gurgling over pebbles or through boulders it cannot drown.I let out an exclamation of dissatisfaction at the sight of the dark stove, and began to close the windows, one by one, until I came to the one against which he was leaning. "Do you want to close this door?" I asked, in order to wake him up, since he was not moving.

Candlelight flickered on his face as I spoke.Ah, Mr. Lockwood, I cannot tell why I was taken aback at the sudden sight of him!Those deep-set black eyes!That smile and deathly pallor seemed to me not to be Mr. Heathcliff, but an evil spirit; and I was so frightened that I could not hold the candle, and leaned it against the wall, and the room was suddenly dark. "Well, close it," he answered in his usual voice. "Why, that's sheer stupidity! Why do you hold the candle sideways? Get another one quickly." I was in a state of petrified terror, and hurried out, and said to Joseph—"The master wants you to get him a candle, and light the fire again," for then I dared not go in myself again. .

Joseph filled the scuttle with some coal, and went in, but returned at once, with his supper-tray in his other hand, and said that Mr. Heathcliff was going to bed and had nothing to eat to-night.We heard him go straight upstairs; instead of going to the bedroom where he usually slept, he went to the one with the paneled bed: as I mentioned before, the window in that bedroom was wide enough for anyone to crawl in and out. , it occurred to me that he was planning to go on another night excursion, not to make us suspicious. "Is he a ghoul, or a vampire?" I mused.I've read about these horrible avatars.Then I thought back to how I had nursed him when he was a baby, watched him grow into youth, had been with him almost all my life, and how ridiculous it was to be overwhelmed by this horror. "But where did this little black thing, sheltered by a good man until the good man die, come from?" murmured Superstition as I drifted off to sleep.I began to wear myself out with half-awake, half-dream imaginings of what his parents must have been like; , and thought of his death and burial. About this, I can only remember that I was particularly troubled by the inscription on his tombstone, and I went to discuss with the person who looked at the grave; because he has no surname, and we can't tell At his age, he had to engrave "Heathcliff".The dream came true; that's what we did.If you go to a cemetery, you can read only that word on his tombstone, and the date of his death. Dawn brought me back to normal.I got up when I could see it, and went into the garden to see if there were any footprints under his window.No. "He's at home," I thought, "he must be perfectly well today." I prepared breakfast for the whole family, which was my usual practice, but told Hareton and Catherine not to eat their breakfast when the master came down, for he went to bed late.They would like to eat outdoors under a tree, so I arranged a small table for them. When I re-entered, I found Mr. Heathcliff downstairs.He and Joseph were talking about things in the field, and he gave clear and precise instructions on the things discussed, but he spoke in a hurry, kept turning his head, and still had the same excited expression, even Even more powerful than before.When Joseph left the room, he sat where he usually sat, and I put a cup of coffee in front of him.He brought the glass closer, then leaned his arm on the table and looked at the opposite wall.Looking at a fixed part, I guessed, up and down with those twinkling restless eyes, and with such intense interest that he didn't catch his breath for half a minute. "Well," I cried, pushing the bread into his hands, "eat and drink while it's hot. Been waiting for almost an hour. " He ignored me, but he was smiling.I'd rather see him grit his teeth than see such a smile. "Mr Heathcliff! Master!" I cried, "for God's sake, don't stare like you've seen a ghost." "For God's sake, don't be so loud," he replied. "Look around and tell me, are we the only ones here?" "Of course," was my answer, "of course it's just the two of us." But I obeyed him involuntarily, as if I hadn't figured it out either.With a push of his hand, he cleared a space between the breakfast items in front of him, leaning forward and staring more comfortably. Now, I could see that he was not looking at the wall; for when I looked at him it really seemed that he was staring at something within two yards.Whatever it was, it evidently imparted extreme intensity of joy and pain; at least the mournful yet ecstatic look on his face suggested that.Nor was the imaginary thing fixed; his eyes pursued it indefatigably, and never parted from it, even when talking to me.I reminded him that he hadn't eaten for a long time, but it was no use, even if he listened to my advice and moved to feel for something, even if he reached for a piece of bread, his fingers died before he touched it. Clenched, and placed on the table, forgetting its purpose. I sat, like a paragon of patience, trying to draw his undivided attention away from its single-minded meditation; at last he grew irritable, rose, and asked me why I would not let him eat alone?And said next time I don't have to wait: I can drop my stuff and go.Having said these words, he left the house, walked slowly along the garden path, and disappeared through the gate. Time crept away in anxiety: another night came.I didn't go to bed until very late, but when I did, I couldn't sleep again.He came back after midnight, and instead of going to bed, shut himself in the downstairs room.I listened, tossed and turned, and finally put on my clothes and went downstairs.It was so annoying to lie there with a hundred unfounded worries haunting my mind. I could hear the restless step of Mr. Heathcliff pacing the floor, and he often broke the silence with a deep breath, which seemed to be a groan.He, too, murmured words; all I could make out was Catherine's name, and a few cries of affection or pain.He spoke as if facing a human being; the voice was low and earnest, wrung from the depths of his soul.I didn't have the courage to go straight into the house, but I wanted to distract him from his dreams, so I went to the kitchen fire, stirred it, and started shoveling the cinders.This drew him out, sooner than I expected.He immediately opened the door and said: "Come here, Nelly—is it morning already? Bring in your candle." "It's four o'clock," I answered. "You need to take a candle upstairs, and you can light one on this fire." "No, I don't want to go upstairs," he said. "Come in, light me a fire, and tidy up this room." "I'll have to blow up this pile of coal before I can fetch it," I answered, moving a chair and a bellows. At the same time, he walked back and forth, as if he was on the verge of insanity; he sighed heavily one after another, very quickly, as if there was no room for normal breathing. "I'll have Green come when daylight comes," said he, "and while I can still think of these things and arrange them in peace, I'd like to ask him something about the law. I haven't written my will yet; how Nor can I decide what to do with my estate. I wish I could wipe it off the face of the earth." "I don't want to talk about that, Mr. Heathcliff," I interposed; "put your will first; you'll save time to regret your many injustices! I never Expected your nerves to be deranged; but, at the moment, it is strangely deranged; and almost entirely your own fault. The way you have lived these three days, even a Titan would have fallen ill .Eat something and rest. You only need to look in the mirror to know how much you need this. Your cheeks are sunken and your eyes are bloodshot like a person starved to death and nearly blind from insomnia La." ① Titan—the god in Greek mythology and legend, and also the anthropomorphic name of the sun.Means "giant". "I can't eat or sleep, so it's not my fault," he replied. "I assure you it wasn't intended. I'd eat and sleep as soon as I could. But you can tell a man struggling in the water to rest when he's an arm's length from the shore I must arrive first, and then I rest. Well, leave Mr. Green alone: ​​as for repenting my injustice, I have not done it, and I have no need of it. I am too happy; but I Not happy enough. The joy of my soul killed my body, but did not satisfy itself." "Happy, master?" I called. "Strange happiness! If you can listen to me without being angry, I can advise you to make you happier." "What is it?" he asked. "Tell me." "You know, Mr. Heathcliff," said I, "that from the time you were thirteen you led a selfish, unchristian life; Didn't take a bible. You must have forgotten what the holy book says, and you probably don't have time to look it up now. Can someone--any church pastor, it doesn't matter--explain the holy book , to tell you how far you have gone astray; and how unfit you are to go to heaven, unless there is a change before your death, would it do any harm?" "I am not offended, but grateful, Nelly," said he, "for reminding me of my desired burial. To be transported to the churchyard in the evening. You and Hareton may, if you wish, Go with me: remember especially, and watch that the sexton obeys my instructions concerning the two coffins! No need for a priest to come; nor need to say anything to me.—I tell you I'm near to my heaven; Other people's paradise is worthless to me, and I don't care." "Suppose you persist in your persistent hunger strike and die like that, and they refuse to bury you within the confines of the chapel?" I said, startled to hear his disregard for God. "Then what about you?" "They won't do that," he answered, "and if they do, you must remove me in secret; and if you don't, you'll prove that the dead aren't really dead!" As soon as he heard other people moving about in the house, he retreated to his room, and I breathed more easily.But in the afternoon, while Joseph and Hareton were at work, he came into the kitchen again, and with a wild look, called me to come and sit in the hall: he wanted someone with him.I refused; telling him plainly that I was frightened by his strange talk and manner, and that I had neither the guts nor the will to be alone with him. "I'm sure you think I'm a monster," he said, with his wretched smile, "like a thing too horrible to live in a decent home." Then he turned to Catherine half-sarcastically talking.Catherine was right there, and when he came in she hid behind my back,—"Will you come, little darling? I won't hurt you. No! I've made myself worse than the devil for you Bad. Well, there's someone who's not afraid to keep me company! God! She's cruel. Oh, damn it! It's so hard on flesh and blood—even I can't stand it!" He begged no one to come with him.In the evening he went to the bedroom.All night, until morning we heard him moaning to himself.Hareton was dying to go in; but I told him to fetch Mr. Kenneth, who should go in and see him. When he came, I begged to come in, and tried to open the door, which I found locked; Heathcliff told us to go.He was better, and wished to be alone; so the doctor went away again. It rained heavily that night.Really, it rained cats and dogs until dawn.On my early morning walk around the house, I saw the owner's windows swinging open and the rain pouring straight in.He was not in bed, I thought: the rain was going to drench him.He must have either gotten up or gone out.But I don't want to speculate anymore, I want to boldly go in and have a look. I opened the door with the other key, and having entered, I ran to the partition, for the bedroom was empty; I pushed the partition back quickly, and peeped, and there was Mr. Heathcliff— Lie on your back.His eyes looked at me so sharply and fiercely that I was startled; then it seemed that he smiled again. I couldn't think he was dead: but his face and throat were washed by the rain; the sheets were dripping, and he didn't move.The window was knocking back and forth, wiping a hand on the sill; no blood came out of the cut skin, and I felt it with my fingers, and I could no longer doubt it; he was dead and stiff! I closed the window; I brushed the long black hair on his forehead; I wanted to close his eyes, because if possible, I wanted to annihilate that horrible, human-like ecstatic gaze.The eyes couldn't close; they seemed to be trying to laugh at me; his parted lips and stark white teeth mocked too!I felt another wave of timidity, and I called out to Joseph.Joseph came up slowly and yelled, but resolutely refused to be nosy. "The devil has taken his soul," he cried, "and I don't mind taking his body! Ah! what a wicked man he is, grinning at death!" The old sinner And grinned mockingly. I thought he was about to jump about the bed for a while; but suddenly he collected himself, knelt down, and held up his hands, thanking Heaven for the restoration of their rightful masters and ancient families. This dreadful event made me dizzy: I cannot help recalling the past with a crushing sadness.But poor Hareton, though the most wronged, was the only one who really suffered much.All night he sat beside the corpse, weeping earnestly.He took its hand and kissed that ironic, brutal face that no one dared to look at.He mourned him with that violent sorrow that springs so naturally from a generous and generous heart, though that heart be as strong as steel. Mr. Kenneth did not know how to announce the disease from which his master had died.I concealed the fact that he hadn't eaten for four days, for fear of causing trouble, but I was also sure that he didn't starve on purpose; it was the result, not the cause, of his strange illness. We buried him as he wished, which the neighbors thought was a strange thing.Earnshaw and I, the sexton, and six others carried the coffin, which was the mourner's body.The six left after they had placed the coffin in the grave.We'll stay there and watch it get buried.With tears streaming down his face, Hareton himself dug green grass and spread it over the brown mound.At present, this tomb is as smooth and green as the others—I hope the people in this tomb sleep as well.But if you ask people in the country, they'll swear on their Bibles that he's still walking about: some say they've seen him near the church, in the moor, even in this house.You'd say it's nonsense, and I'd say the same.But the old man by the kitchen fire affirmed that he had seen them both looking out of his bedroom window on rainy nights since his death:—a strange thing happened to me a month or so ago.I was going to the Grange one evening--a dark night, about to thunderstorm--just round the bend in the Grange, I met a little boy with a sheep and two lambs ahead of him.He was crying so much that I thought it was a lamb running wild and not listening to him. "What's the matter, my little one?" I asked. "Heathcliff is over there with a woman, under the rock," he cried, "and I dare not pass." I saw nothing, but neither he nor the sheep would go on; so I told him to go around by the road below, and he probably remembered what he had heard of his parents and companions as he passed through the wilderness alone. Always talking about those nonsense and imagining ghosts.But now I don't want to go out when it's dark, and I don't want to be left alone in this gloomy house.I have no idea.I'll be glad when they get out of here and go to the Grange. "Then they're going to the Grange?" I said. "Yes," replied Mrs. Ding, "they go as soon as they are married, on New Year's Day." "Then who lives here?" "Well, Joseph takes care of the house, and, perhaps, finds a young man to keep him company. They're going to live in the kitchen, with the rest of the room locked up. " "Can the ghost use it to live?" I said. "No, Mr. Lockwood," said Nelly, shaking her head. "I believe that the dead are peaceful, but I have no right to despise them." Then the garden gate opened; the Wanderer returned. "They're not afraid of anything," I grumbled, watching them come from the window. "Two together, they can stand up to Satan and all his armies." They came up the doorstep, stopped to take a last look at the moon—or, rather, looked at each other by moonlight—and I couldn't help avoiding them again.I pressed a little souvenir into Mrs. Dean's hand, and in spite of her protests of my rashness, I slipped out of the kitchen as they opened the door; if I had not fortunately dropped a dollar at Joseph's feet, I made him recognize me as a respectable man with a nice prank, and he must have thought his companion was really having an affair. The journey home was prolonged by my detour to church.When I came to the foot of the church wall, I saw that it had only been seven months old and it was showing increasing decay.More than one window had no glass and looked black; the tiles on the right side of the roof protruded in several places, and when the autumn storms came, they would gradually fall away. I searched for the three tombstones on the moor slope, and soon found them: the middle one was gray and half buried in the grass; Li Fu was indeed still naked. Under that mild sky, I linger before these three tombstones!Watching the moths flutter among the heather and bluebells, and hearing the soft wind blow in the grass, I wonder if anyone can imagine that the sleepers beneath that placid land can have unrest. sleep.