WHILE leading the way upstairs, she recommended that I should hidethe candle, and not make a noise; for her master had an odd notionabout the chamber she would put me in, and never let anybody lodgethere willingly. I asked the reason. She did not know, sheanswered: she had only lived there a year or two; and they had somany queer goings on, she could not begin to be curious.

Too stupefied to be curious myself, I fastened my door and glancedround for the bed. The whole furniture consisted of a chair, aclothes-press, and a large oak case, with squares cut out near thetop resembling coach windows. Having approached this structure, Ilooked inside, and perceived it to be a singular sort of old-fashioned couch, very conveniently designed to obviate thenecessity for every member of the family having a room to himself.In fact, it formed a little closet, and the ledge of a window,which it enclosed, served as a table. I slid back the panelledsides, got in with my light, pulled them together again, and feltsecure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else.

The ledge, where I placed my candle, had a few mildewed books piledup in one corner; and it was covered with writing scratched on thepaint. This writing, however, was nothing but a name repeated inall kinds of characters, large and small - CATHERINE EARNSHAW, hereand there varied to CATHERINE HEATHCLIFF, and then again toCATHERINE LINTON.

In vapid listlessness I leant my head against the window, andcontinued spelling over Catherine Earnshaw - Heathcliff - Linton,till my eyes closed; but they had not rested five minutes when aglare of white letters started from the dark, as vivid as spectres- the air swarmed with Catherines; and rousing myself to dispel theobtrusive name, I discovered my candle-wick reclining on one of theantique volumes, and perfuming the place with an odour of roastedcalf-skin. I snuffed it off, and, very ill at ease under theinfluence of cold and lingering nausea, sat up and spread open theinjured tome on my knee. It was a Testament, in lean type, andsmelling dreadfully musty: a fly-leaf bore the inscription -'Catherine Earnshaw, her book,' and a date some quarter of acentury back. I shut it, and took up another and another, till Ihad examined all. Catherine's library was select, and its state ofdilapidation proved it to have been well used, though notaltogether for a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter hadescaped, a pen-and-ink commentary - at least the appearance of one- covering every morsel of blank that the printer had left. Somewere detached sentences; other parts took the form of a regulardiary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of anextra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) Iwas greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friendJoseph, - rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interestkindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began forthwithto decipher her faded hieroglyphics.

'An awful Sunday,' commenced the paragraph beneath. 'I wish myfather were back again. Hindley is a detestable substitute - hisconduct to Heathcliff is atrocious - H. and I are going to rebel -we took our initiatory step this evening.

'All day had been flooding with rain; we could not go to church, soJoseph must needs get up a congregation in the garret; and, whileHindley and his wife basked downstairs before a comfortable fire -doing anything but reading their Bibles, I'll answer for it -Heathcliff, myself, and the unhappy ploughboy were commanded totake our prayer-books, and mount: we were ranged in a row, on asack of corn, groaning and shivering, and hoping that Joseph wouldshiver too, so that he might give us a short homily for his ownsake. A vain idea! The service lasted precisely three hours; andyet my brother had the face to exclaim, when he saw us descending,"What, done already?" On Sunday evenings we used to be permittedto play, if we did not make much noise; now a mere titter issufficient to send us into corners.

'"You forget you have a master here," says the tyrant. "I'lldemolish the first who puts me out of temper! I insist on perfectsobriety and silence. Oh, boy! was that you? Frances darling,pull his hair as you go by: I heard him snap his fingers."Frances pulled his hair heartily, and then went and seated herselfon her husband's knee, and there they were, like two babies,kissing and talking nonsense by the hour - foolish palaver that weshould be ashamed of. We made ourselves as snug as our meansallowed in the arch of the dresser. I had just fastened ourpinafores together, and hung them up for a curtain, when in comesJoseph, on an errand from the stables. He tears down my handiwork,boxes my ears, and croaks:

'"T' maister nobbut just buried, and Sabbath not o'ered, und t'sound o' t' gospel still i' yer lugs, and ye darr be laiking!Shame on ye! sit ye down, ill childer! there's good books eneugh ifye'll read 'em: sit ye down, and think o' yer sowls!"

'Saying this, he compelled us so to square our positions that wemight receive from the far-off fire a dull ray to show us the textof the lumber he thrust upon us. I could not bear the employment.I took my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dog-kennel, vowing I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to thesame place. Then there was a hubbub!

'"Maister Hindley!" shouted our chaplain. " Maister, coom hither!Miss Cathy's riven th' back off 'Th' Helmet o' Salvation,' un'Heathcliff's pawsed his fit into t' first part o' 'T' Brooad Way toDestruction!' It's fair flaysome that ye let 'em go on this gait.Ech! th' owd man wad ha' laced 'em properly - but he's goan!"

'Hindley hurried up from his paradise on the hearth, and seizingone of us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both intothe back-kitchen; where, Joseph asseverated, "owd Nick would fetchus as sure as we were living: and, so comforted, we each sought aseparate nook to await his advent. I reached this book, and a potof ink from a shelf, and pushed the house-door ajar to give melight, and I have got the time on with writing for twenty minutes;but my companion is impatient, and proposes that we shouldappropriate the dairywoman's cloak, and have a scamper on themoors, under its shelter. A pleasant suggestion - and then, if thesurly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified - wecannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here.'

* * * * * *

I suppose Catherine fulfilled her project, for the next sentencetook up another subject: she waxed lachrymose.

'How little did I dream that Hindley would ever make me cry so!'she wrote. 'My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow;and still I can't give over. Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him avagabond, and won't let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more;and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens toturn him out of the house if we break his orders. He has beenblaming our father (how dared he?) for treating H. too liberally;and swears he will reduce him to his right place - '

* * * * * *

I began to nod drowsily over the dim page: my eye wandered frommanuscript to print. I saw a red ornamented title - 'Seventy TimesSeven, and the First of the Seventy-First.' A Pious Discoursedelivered by the Reverend Jabez Branderham, in the Chapel ofGimmerden Sough.' And while I was, half-consciously, worrying mybrain to guess what Jabez Branderham would make of his subject, Isank back in bed, and fell asleep. Alas, for the effects of badtea and bad temper! What else could it be that made me pass such aterrible night? I don't remember another that I can at all comparewith it since I was capable of suffering.

I began to dream, almost before I ceased to be sensible of mylocality. I thought it was morning; and I had set out on my wayhome, with Joseph for a guide. The snow lay yards deep in ourroad; and, as we floundered on, my companion wearied me withconstant reproaches that I had not brought a pilgrim's staff:telling me that I could never get into the house without one, andboastfully flourishing a heavy-headed cudgel, which I understood tobe so denominated. For a moment I considered it absurd that Ishould need such a weapon to gain admittance into my own residence.Then a new idea flashed across me. I was not going there: we werejourneying to hear the famous Jabez Branderham preach, from thetext - 'Seventy Times Seven;' and either Joseph, the preacher, or Ihad committed the 'First of the Seventy-First,' and were to bepublicly exposed and excommunicated.

We came to the chapel. I have passed it really in my walks, twiceor thrice; it lies in a hollow, between two hills: an elevatedhollow, near a swamp, whose peaty moisture is said to answer allthe purposes of embalming on the few corpses deposited there. Theroof has been kept whole hitherto; but as the clergyman's stipendis only twenty pounds per annum, and a house with two rooms,threatening speedily to determine into one, no clergyman willundertake the duties of pastor: especially as it is currentlyreported that his flock would rather let him starve than increasethe living by one penny from their own pockets. However, in mydream, Jabez had a full and attentive congregation; and he preached- good God! what a sermon; divided into FOUR HUNDRED AND NINETYparts, each fully equal to an ordinary address from the pulpit, andeach discussing a separate sin! Where he searched for them, Icannot tell. He had his private manner of interpreting the phrase,and it seemed necessary the brother should sin different sins onevery occasion. They were of the most curious character: oddtransgressions that I never imagined previously.

Oh, how weary I grow. How I writhed, and yawned, and nodded, andrevived! How I pinched and pricked myself, and rubbed my eyes, andstood up, and sat down again, and nudged Joseph to inform me if hewould EVER have done. I was condemned to hear all out: finally,he reached the 'FIRST OF THE SEVENTY-FIRST.' At that crisis, asudden inspiration descended on me; I was moved to rise anddenounce Jabez Branderham as the sinner of the sin that noChristian need pardon.

'Sir,' I exclaimed, 'sitting here within these four walls, at onestretch, I have endured and forgiven the four hundred and ninetyheads of your discourse. Seventy times seven times have I pluckedup my hat and been about to depart - Seventy times seven times haveyou preposterously forced me to resume my seat. The four hundredand ninety-first is too much. Fellow-martyrs, have at him! Draghim down, and crush him to atoms, that the place which knows himmay know him no more!'

'THOU ART THE MAN!' cried Jabez, after a solemn pause, leaning overhis cushion. 'Seventy times seven times didst thou gapinglycontort thy visage - seventy times seven did I take counsel with mysoul - Lo, this is human weakness: this also may be absolved! TheFirst of the Seventy-First is come. Brethren, execute upon him thejudgment written. Such honour have all His saints!'

With that concluding word, the whole assembly, exalting theirpilgrim's staves, rushed round me in a body; and I, having noweapon to raise in self-defence, commenced grappling with Joseph,my nearest and most ferocious assailant, for his. In theconfluence of the multitude, several clubs crossed; blows, aimed atme, fell on other sconces. Presently the whole chapel resoundedwith rappings and counter rappings: every man's hand was againsthis neighbour; and Branderham, unwilling to remain idle, pouredforth his zeal in a shower of loud taps on the boards of thepulpit, which responded so smartly that, at last, to my unspeakablerelief, they woke me. And what was it that had suggested thetremendous tumult? What had played Jabez's part in the row?Merely the branch of a fir-tree that touched my lattice as theblast wailed by, and rattled its dry cones against the panes! Ilistened doubtingly an instant; detected the disturber, then turnedand dozed, and dreamt again: if possible, still more disagreeablythan before.

This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet, and I hearddistinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard,also, the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it tothe right cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved tosilence it, if possible; and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured tounhasp the casement. The hook was soldered into the staple: acircumstance observed by me when awake, but forgotten. 'I muststop it, nevertheless!' I muttered, knocking my knuckles throughthe glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunatebranch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of alittle, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came overme: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and amost melancholy voice sobbed, 'Let me in - let me in!' 'Who areyou?' I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself.'Catherine Linton,' it replied, shiveringly (why did I think ofLINTON? I had read EARNSHAW twenty times for Linton) - 'I'm comehome: I'd lost my way on the moor!' As it spoke, I discerned,obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. Terror mademe cruel; and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creatureoff, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to andfro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still itwailed, 'Let me in!' and maintained its tenacious gripe, almostmaddening me with fear. 'How can I!' I said at length. 'Let MEgo, if you want me to let you in!' The fingers relaxed, I snatchedmine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramidagainst it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer.I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, theinstant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on!'Begone!' I shouted. 'I'll never let you in, not if you beg fortwenty years.' 'It is twenty years,' mourned the voice: 'twentyyears. I've been a waif for twenty years!' Thereat began a feeblescratching outside, and the pile of books moved as if thrustforward. I tried to jump up; but could not stir a limb; and soyelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright. To my confusion, I discoveredthe yell was not ideal: hasty footsteps approached my chamberdoor; somebody pushed it open, with a vigorous hand, and a lightglimmered through the squares at the top of the bed. I satshuddering yet, and wiping the perspiration from my forehead: theintruder appeared to hesitate, and muttered to himself. At last,he said, in a half-whisper, plainly not expecting an answer, 'Isany one here?' I considered it best to confess my presence; for Iknew Heathcliff's accents, and feared he might search further, if Ikept quiet. With this intention, I turned and opened the panels.I shall not soon forget the effect my action produced.

Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; witha candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as thewall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like anelectric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance ofsome feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardlypick it up.

'It is only your guest, sir,' I called out, desirous to spare himthe humiliation of exposing his cowardice further. 'I had themisfortune to scream in my sleep, owing to a frightful nightmare.I'm sorry I disturbed you.'

'Oh, God confound you, Mr. Lockwood! I wish you were at the - 'commenced my host, setting the candle on a chair, because he foundit impossible to hold it steady. 'And who showed you up into thisroom?' he continued, crushing his nails into his palms, andgrinding his teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions. 'Who wasit? I've a good mind to turn them out of the house this moment?'

'It was your servant Zillah,' I replied, flinging myself on to thefloor, and rapidly resuming my garments. 'I should not care if youdid, Mr. Heathcliff; she richly deserves it. I suppose that shewanted to get another proof that the place was haunted, at myexpense. Well, it is - swarming with ghosts and goblins! You havereason in shutting it up, I assure you. No one will thank you fora doze in such a den!'

'What do you mean?' asked Heathcliff, 'and what are you doing? Liedown and finish out the night, since you ARE here; but, forheaven's sake! don't repeat that horrid noise: nothing couldexcuse it, unless you were having your throat cut!'

'If the little fiend had got in at the window, she probably wouldhave strangled me!' I returned. 'I'm not going to endure thepersecutions of your hospitable ancestors again. Was not theReverend Jabez Branderham akin to you on the mother's side? Andthat minx, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called- she must have been a changeling - wicked little soul! She toldme she had been walking the earth these twenty years: a justpunishment for her mortal transgressions, I've no doubt!'

Scarcely were these words uttered when I recollected theassociation of Heathcliff's with Catherine's name in the book,which had completely slipped from my memory, till thus awakened. Iblushed at my inconsideration: but, without showing furtherconsciousness of the offence, I hastened to add - 'The truth is,sir, I passed the first part of the night in - ' Here I stoppedafresh - I was about to say 'perusing those old volumes,' then itwould have revealed my knowledge of their written, as well as theirprinted, contents; so, correcting myself, I went on - 'in spellingover the name scratched on that window-ledge. A monotonousoccupation, calculated to set me asleep, like counting, or - '

'What CAN you mean by talking in this way to ME!' thunderedHeathcliff with savage vehemence. 'How - how DARE you, under myroof? - God! he's mad to speak so!' And he struck his foreheadwith rage.

I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue myexplanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pityand proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard theappellation of 'Catherine Linton' before, but reading it often overproduced an impression which personified itself when I had nolonger my imagination under control. Heathcliff gradually fellback into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke; finally sitting downalmost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by his irregularand intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an excessof violent emotion. Not liking to show him that I had heard theconflict, I continued my toilette rather noisily, looked at mywatch, and soliloquised on the length of the night: 'Not threeo'clock yet! I could have taken oath it had been six. Timestagnates here: we must surely have retired to rest at eight!'

'Always at nine in winter, and rise at four,' said my host,suppressing a groan: and, as I fancied, by the motion of his arm'sshadow, dashing a tear from his eyes. 'Mr. Lockwood,' he added,'you may go into my room: you'll only be in the way, coming down-stairs so early: and your childish outcry has sent sleep to thedevil for me.'

'And for me, too,' I replied. 'I'll walk in the yard tilldaylight, and then I'll be off; and you need not dread a repetitionof my intrusion. I'm now quite cured of seeking pleasure insociety, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to findsufficient company in himself.'

'Delightful company!' muttered Heathcliff. 'Take the candle, andgo where you please. I shall join you directly. Keep out of theyard, though, the dogs are unchained; and the house - Juno mountssentinel there, and - nay, you can only ramble about the steps andpassages. But, away with you! I'll come in two minutes!'

I obeyed, so far as to quit the chamber; when, ignorant where thenarrow lobbies led, I stood still, and was witness, involuntarily,to a piece of superstition on the part of my landlord which belied,oddly, his apparent sense. He got on to the bed, and wrenched openthe lattice, bursting, as he pulled at it, into an uncontrollablepassion of tears. 'Come in! come in!' he sobbed. 'Cathy, do come.Oh, do - ONCE more! Oh! my heart's darling! hear me THIS time,Catherine, at last!' The spectre showed a spectre's ordinarycaprice: it gave no sign of being; but the snow and wind whirledwildly through, even reaching my station, and blowing out thelight.

There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied thisraving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drewoff, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at havingrelated my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony;though WHY was beyond my comprehension. I descended cautiously tothe lower regions, and landed in the back-kitchen, where a gleam offire, raked compactly together, enabled me to rekindle my candle.Nothing was stirring except a brindled, grey cat, which crept fromthe ashes, and saluted me with a querulous mew.

Two benches, shaped in sections of a circle, nearly enclosed thehearth; on one of these I stretched myself, and Grimalkin mountedthe other. We were both of us nodding ere any one invaded ourretreat, and then it was Joseph, shuffling down a wooden ladderthat vanished in the roof, through a trap: the ascent to hisgarret, I suppose. He cast a sinister look at the little flamewhich I had enticed to play between the ribs, swept the cat fromits elevation, and bestowing himself in the vacancy, commenced theoperation of stuffing a three-inch pipe with tobacco. My presencein his sanctum was evidently esteemed a piece of impudence tooshameful for remark: he silently applied the tube to his lips,folded his arms, and puffed away. I let him enjoy the luxuryunannoyed; and after sucking out his last wreath, and heaving aprofound sigh, he got up, and departed as solemnly as he came.

A more elastic footstep entered next; and now I opened my mouth fora 'good-morning,' but closed it again, the salutation unachieved;for Hareton Earnshaw was performing his orison SOTTO VOCE, in aseries of curses directed against every object he touched, while herummaged a corner for a spade or shovel to dig through the drifts.He glanced over the back of the bench, dilating his nostrils, andthought as little of exchanging civilities with me as with mycompanion the cat. I guessed, by his preparations, that egress wasallowed, and, leaving my hard couch, made a movement to follow him.He noticed this, and thrust at an inner door with the end of hisspade, intimating by an inarticulate sound that there was the placewhere I must go, if I changed my locality.

It opened into the house, where the females were already astir;Zillah urging flakes of flame up the chimney with a colossalbellows; and Mrs. Heathcliff, kneeling on the hearth, reading abook by the aid of the blaze. She held her hand interposed betweenthe furnace-heat and her eyes, and seemed absorbed in heroccupation; desisting from it only to chide the servant forcovering her with sparks, or to push away a dog, now and then, thatsnoozled its nose overforwardly into her face. I was surprised tosee Heathcliff there also. He stood by the fire, his back towardsme, just finishing a stormy scene with poor Zillah; who ever andanon interrupted her labour to pluck up the corner of her apron,and heave an indignant groan.

'And you, you worthless - ' he broke out as I entered, turning tohis daughter-in-law, and employing an epithet as harmless as duck,or sheep, but generally represented by a dash - . 'There you are,at your idle tricks again! The rest of them do earn their bread -you live on my charity! Put your trash away, and find something todo. You shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in mysight - do you hear, damnable jade?'

'I'll put my trash away, because you can make me if I refuse,'answered the young lady, closing her book, and throwing it on achair. 'But I'll not do anything, though you should swear yourtongue out, except what I please!'

Heathcliff lifted his hand, and the speaker sprang to a saferdistance, obviously acquainted with its weight. Having no desireto be entertained by a cat-and-dog combat, I stepped forwardbriskly, as if eager to partake the warmth of the hearth, andinnocent of any knowledge of the interrupted dispute. Each hadenough decorum to suspend further hostilities: Heathcliff placedhis fists, out of temptation, in his pockets; Mrs. Heathcliffcurled her lip, and walked to a seat far off, where she kept herword by playing the part of a statue during the remainder of mystay. That was not long. I declined joining their breakfast, and,at the first gleam of dawn, took an opportunity of escaping intothe free air, now clear, and still, and cold as impalpable ice.

My landlord halloed for me to stop ere I reached the bottom of thegarden, and offered to accompany me across the moor. It was wellhe did, for the whole hill-back was one billowy, white ocean; theswells and falls not indicating corresponding rises and depressionsin the ground: many pits, at least, were filled to a level; andentire ranges of mounds, the refuse of the quarries, blotted fromthe chart which my yesterday's walk left pictured in my mind. Ihad remarked on one side of the road, at intervals of six or sevenyards, a line of upright stones, continued through the whole lengthof the barren: these were erected and daubed with lime on purposeto serve as guides in the dark, and also when a fall, like thepresent, confounded the deep swamps on either hand with the firmerpath: but, excepting a dirty dot pointing up here and there, alltraces of their existence had vanished: and my companion found itnecessary to warn me frequently to steer to the right or left, whenI imagined I was following, correctly, the windings of the road.

We exchanged little conversation, and he halted at the entrance ofThrushcross Park, saying, I could make no error there. Our adieuxwere limited to a hasty bow, and then I pushed forward, trusting tomy own resources; for the porter's lodge is untenanted as yet. Thedistance from the gate to the grange is two miles; I believe Imanaged to make it four, what with losing myself among the trees,and sinking up to the neck in snow: a predicament which only thosewho have experienced it can appreciate. At any rate, whatever weremy wanderings, the clock chimed twelve as I entered the house; andthat gave exactly an hour for every mile of the usual way fromWuthering Heights.

My human fixture and her satellites rushed to welcome me;exclaiming, tumultuously, they had completely given me up:everybody conjectured that I perished last night; and they werewondering how they must set about the search for my remains. I bidthem be quiet, now that they saw me returned, and, benumbed to myvery heart, I dragged up-stairs; whence, after putting on dryclothes, and pacing to and fro thirty or forty minutes, to restorethe animal heat, I adjourned to my study, feeble as a kitten:almost too much so to enjoy the cheerful fire and smoking coffeewhich the servant had prepared for my refreshment.