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发信人: fzx (化石), 信区: English
标 题: Wuthering Heights 18
发信站: 紫 丁 香 (Thu May 20 14:16:50 1999), 转信
Chapter 18
The twelve years, continued Mrs Dean, following that dismal period, were
the happiest of my life:my greatest troubles in their passage rose from
our little lady's trifling illnesses, which she had toexperience in common
with all children, rich and poor. For the rest, after the first six months,
shegrew like a larch, and could walk and talk too, in her own way, before
the heath blossomed asecond time over Mrs Linton's dust. She was the most
winning thing that ever brought sunshine intoa desolate house: a real
beauty in face, with the Earnshaws' handsome dark eyes, but the
Lintons'fair skin and small features, and yellow curling hair. Her spirit
was high, though not rough, andqualified by a heart sensitive and lively
to excess in its affections. That capacity for intenseattachments
reminded me of her mother: still she did not resemble her; for she could
be soft andmild as a dove, and she had a gentle voice and pensive expression:
her anger was never furious; herlove never fierce: it was deep and tender.
However, it must be acknowledged, she had faults to foilher gifts. A
propensity to be saucy was one; and a perverse will, that indulged children
invariablyacquire, whether they be good-tempered or cross. If a servant
chanced to vex her, it wasalways--`I shall tell papa!' And if he reproved
her, even by a look, you would have thought it aheart-breaking business:
I don't believe he ever did speak a harsh word to her. He took hereducation
entirely on himself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and
a quick intellecturged her into an apt scholar: she learned rapidly and
eagerly, and did honour to his teaching.
Till she reached the age of thirteen, she had not once been beyond the
range of the park by herself.Mr Linton would take her with him a mile or
so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her to noone else. Gimmerton
was an unsubstantial name in her ears; the chapel, the only building she
hadapproached or entered, except her own home. Wuthering Heights and Mr
Heathcliff did not existfor her: she was a perfect recluse; and,
apparently, perfectly contented. Sometimes, indeed, whilesurveying the
country from her nursery window, she would observe:
`Ellen, how long will it be before I can walk to the top of those hills?
I wonder what lies on theother side--is it the sea?'
`No, Miss Cathy,' I would answer; `it is hills again, just like these.'
`And what are those golden rocks like when you stand under them?' she
once asked.
The abrupt descent of Penistone Crags particularly attracted her notice;
especially when the settingsun shone on it and the topmost heights, and
the whole extent of landscape besides lay in shadow. Iexplained that they
were bare masses of stone, with hardly enough earth in their clefts to
nourish astunted tree.
`And why are they bright so long after it is evening here?' she pursued.
`Because they are a great deal higher up than we are,' replied I; `you
could not climb them, theyare too high and steep. In winter the frost is
always there before it comes to us; and deep intosummer I have found snow
under that black hollow on the north-east side!'
`Oh, you have been on them!' she cried gleefully. `Then I can go, too,
when I am a woman. Haspapa been, Ellen?'
`Papa would tell you, miss,' I answered hastily, `that they are not worth
the trouble of visiting. Themoors, where you ramble with him, are much
nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest place in theworld.'
`But I know the park, and I don't know those,' she murmured to herself.
`And I should delight tolook round me from the brow of that tallest point:
my little pony Minny shall take me some time.'
One of the maids mentioning the Fairy Cave, quite turned her head with
a desire to fulfil thisproject: she teased Mr Linton about it; and he
promised she should have the journey when she gotolder. But Miss Catherine
measured her age by months, and, `Now, am I old enough to go toPenistone
Crags?' was the constant question in her mouth. The road thither wound
close byWuthering Heights. Edgar had not the heart to pass it; so she
received as constantly the answer,`Not yet, love: not yet.
I said Mrs Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting her husband.
Her family were of adelicate constitution: she and Edgar both lacked the
ruddy health that you will generally meet inthese parts. What her last
illness was, I am not certain: I conjecture, they died of the same thing,
akind of fever, slow at its commencement, but incurable, and rapidly
consuming life to wards theclose. She wrote to inform her brother of the
probable conclusion of a four months' indispositionunder which she had
suffered, and entreated him to come to her, if possible; for she had much
tosettle, and she wished to bid him adieu, and deliver Linton safely into
his hands. Her hope was, thatLinton might be left with him, as he had been
with her: his father, she would fain convince herself,had no desire to
assume the burden of his maintenance or education. My master hesitated
not amoment in complying with her request: reluctant as he was to leave
home at ordinary calls, he flewto answer this; commending Catherine to
my peculiar vigilance, in his absence, with reiteratedorders that she must
not wander out of the park, even under my escort: he did not calculate
on hergoing unaccompanied.
He was away three weeks. The first day or two, my charge sat in a corner
of the library, too sadfor either reading or playing: in that quiet state
she caused me little trouble; but it was succeeded byan interval of
impatient fretful weariness; and being too busy, and too old then, to run
up and downamusing her, I hit on a method by which she might entertain
herself. I used to send her on her travelsround the grounds--now on foot,
and now on a pony; indulging her with a patient audience of all herreal
and imaginary adventures, when she returned.
The summer shone in full prime; and she took such a taste for this solitary
rambling that she oftencontrived to remain out from breakfast till tea;
and then the evenings were spent in recounting herfanciful tales. I did
not fear her breaking bounds; because the gates were generally locked,
and Ithought she would scarcely venture forth alone, if they had stood
wide open. Unluckily, myconfidence proved misplaced. Catherine came to
me, one morning, at eight o'clock, and said shewas that day an Arabian
merchant, going to cross the desert with his caravan; and I must give
herplenty of provision for herself and beasts: a horse, and three camels,
personated by a large houndand a couple of pointers. I got together good
store of dainties, and slung them in a basket on oneside of the saddle;
and she sprang up as gay as a fairy, sheltered by her wide-brimmed hat
andgauze veil from the July sun, and trotted off with a merry laugh,
mocking my cautious counsel toavoid galloping, and come back early. The
naughty thing never made her appearance at tea. Onetraveller, the hound,
being an old dog and fond of its ease, returned; but neither Cathy, nor
thepony, nor the two pointers were visible in any direction: I dispatched
emissaries down this path, andthat path, and at last went wandering in
search of her myself. There was a labourer working at afence round a
plantation, on the borders of the grounds. I inquired of him if he had
seen our younglady.
`I saw her at morn,' he replied; `she would have me to cut her a hazel
switch, and then she leapther Galloway over the hedge yonder, where it
is lowest, and galloped out of sight.'
You may guess how I felt at hearing this news. It struck me directly she
must have started forPenistone Crags. `What will become of her?' I
ejaculated, pushing through a gap which the manwas repairing, and making
straight to the high road. I walked as if for a wager, mile after mile,
till aturn brought me in view of the Heights; but no Catherine could I
detect far or near. The Crags lieabout a mile and a half beyond Mr
Heathcliff's place, and that is four from the Grange, so I beganto fear
night would fall ere I could reach them. `And what if she should have
slipped in clamberingamong them?' I reflected, `and been killed, or broken
some of her bones?' My suspense was trulypainful; and, at first, it gave
me delightful relief to observe, in hurrying by the farmhouse, Charlie,
thefiercest of the pointers, lying under a window, with swelled head and
bleeding ear. I opened thewicket and ran to the door, knocking vehemently
for admittance. A woman whom I knew, and whoformerly lived at Gimmerton,
answered: she had been servant there since the death of MrEarnshaw.
`Ah,' said she, `you are come a seeking your little mistress! don't be
frightened. She's here safe: butI'm glad it isn't the master.'
`He is not at home then, is he?' I panted, quite breathless with quick
walking and alarm.
`No, no,' she replied: `both he and Joseph are off, and I think they won't
return this hour or more.Step in and rest you a bit.'
I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rocking herself
in a little chair that hadbeen her mother's when a child. Her hat was hung
against the wall, and she seemed perfectly athome, laughing and chattering,
in the best spirits imaginable, to Hareton--now a great, strong lad
ofeighteen--who stared at her with considerable curiosity and
astonishment: comprehending preciouslittle of the fluent succession of
remarks and questions which her tongue never ceased pouring forth.
`Very well, miss!' I exclaimed, concealing my joy under an angry
countenance. `This is your lastride, till papa comes back. I'll not trust
you over the threshold again, you naughty, naughty girl!'
`Aha, Ellen!' she cried gaily, jumping up and running to my side. `I shall
have a pretty story to telltonight: and so you've found me out. Have you
ever been here in your life before?'
`Put that hat on, and home at once,' said I. `I'm dreadfully grieved at
you, Miss Cathy: you've doneextremely wrong. It's no use pouting and
crying: that won't repay the trouble I've had, scouring thecountry after
you. To think how Mr Linton charged me to keep you in; and you stealing
off so! itshows you are a, cunning little fox, and nobody will put faith
in you any more.
`What have I done?' sobbed she, instantly checked. `Papa charged me
nothing: he'll not scold me,Ellen--he's never cross, like you!'
`Come, come!' I repeated. `I'll tie the riband. Now, let us have no
petulance. Oh, for shame! Youthirteen years old, and such a baby!'
This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head, and
retreating to the chimneyout of my reach.
`Nay,' said the servant, `don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs Dean. We
made her stop: she'd fainhave ridden forwards, afeard you should be uneasy.
But Hareton offered to go with her, and Ithought he should: it's a wild
road over the hills.'
Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in his pockets, too
awkward to speak; thoughhe looked as if he did not relish my intrusion.
`How long am I to wait?' I continued, disregarding the woman's
interference. `It will be dark in tenminutes. Where is the pony, Miss Cathy?
And where is Phoenix? I shall leave you, unless you bequick; so please
yourself.'
`The pony is in the yard,' she replied, `and Phoenix is shut in there.
He's bitten--and so is Charlie. Iwas going to tell you all about it; but
you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve to hear.'
I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceiving that
the people of the housetook her part, she commenced capering round the
room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouseover and under and behind
the furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me to pursue. Hareton and
thewoman laughed, and she joined them, and waxed more impertinent still;
till I cried, in great irritation:
`Well, Miss Cathy, if you were aware whose house this is, you'd be glad
enough to get out.
`It's your father's, isn't it?' said she, turning to Hareton. `Nay,' he
replied, looking down, andblushing bashfully.
He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they were just
his own.
`Whose then--your master's?' she asked.
He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, and
turned away.
`Who is his master?' continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me. `He
talked about ``our house'',and ``our folk''. I thought he had been the
owner's son. And he never said, Miss; he should havedone, shouldn't he,
if he's a servant?'
Hareton grew black as a thunder cloud, at this childish speech. I silently
shook my questioner, andat last succeeded in equipping her for departure.
`Now, get my horse,' she said, addressing her unknown kinsman as she would
one of thestable-boys at the Grange. `And you may come with me. I want
to see where the goblin-hunterrises in the marsh, and to hear about the
fairishes, as you call them: but make haste! What's thematter? Get my horse,
I say.
`I'll see thee damned before I be thy servant!' growled the lad. `You'll
see me what?' askedCatherine in surprise. `Damned--thou saucy witch!' he
replied.
`There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company, I interposed.
`Nice words to beused to a young lady! Pray don't begin to dispute with
him. Come, let us seek for Minny ourselves,and begone.'
`But, Ellen,' cried she, staring, fixed in astonishment, `how dare he
speak so to me? Mustn't he bemade to do as I ask him? You wicked creature,
I shall tell papa what you said.--Now, then!'
Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears sprang into her
eyes with indignation. `Youbring the pony,' she exclaimed, turning to the
woman, `and let my dog free this moment!'
`Softly, miss,' answered the addressed: `you'll lose nothing by being
civil. Though Mr Hareton,there, be not the master's son, he's your cousin;
and I was never hired to serve you.'
`He my cousin!' cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh. `Yes, indeed,'
responded her reprover.
`Oh, Ellen! don't let them say such things,' she pursued, in great trouble.
`Papa is gone to fetch mycousin from London: my cousin is a gentleman's
son. That my'--she stopped, and wept outright;upset at the bare notion
of relationship with such a clown.
`Hush, hush!' I whispered, `people can have many cousins, and of all sorts,
Miss Cathy, withoutbeing any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their
company, if they be disagreeable and bad.'
`He's not--he's not my cousin, Ellen!' she went on, gathering fresh grief
from reflection, and flingingherself into my arms for refuge from the
idea.
I was much vexed at her and the servant for their mutual revelations;
having no doubt of Linton'sapproaching arrival, communicated by the
former, being reported to Mr Heathcliff; and feeling asconfident that
Catherine's first thought on her father's return, would be to seek an
explanation of thelatter's assertion concerning her rude-bred kindred.
Hareton, recovering from his disgust at beingtaken for a servant, seemed
moved by her distress; and, having fetched the pony round to the door,he
took, to propitiate her, a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from the
kennel, and putting it intoher hand bid her wisht! for he meant nought.
Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with aglance of awe and
horror, then burst forth anew.
I could scarcely refrain from smiling at this antipathy to the poor fellow;
who was a well-made,athletic youth, good-looking in features, and stout
and healthy, but attired in garments befitting hisdaily occupations of
working on the farm, and lounging among the moors after rabbits and
game.Still, I thought I could detect in his physiognomy a mind owning
better qualities than his father everpossessed. Good things lost amid a
wilderness of weeds, to be sure, whose rankness farovertopped their
neglected growth; yet, notwithstanding, evidence of a wealthy soil, that
might yieldluxuriant crops under other and favourable circumstances. Mr
Heathcliff, I believe, had not treatedhim physically ill, thanks to his
fearless nature, which offered no temptation to that course ofoppression:
it had none of the timid susceptibility that would have given zest to
ill-treatment, inHeathcliff's judgment. He appeared to have bent his
malevolence on making him a brute: he wasnever taught to read or write;
never rebuked for any bad habit which did not annoy his keeper;never led
a single step towards virtue, or guarded by a single precept against vice.
And from what Iheard, Joseph contributed much to his deterioration, by
a narrow-minded partiality which promptedhim to flatter and pet him, as
a boy, because he was the head of the old family. And as he had beenin
the habit of accusing Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, when children,
of putting the master pasthis patience, and compelling him to seek solace
in drink by what he termed their `offalld ways', soat present he laid the
whole burden of Hareton's faults on the shoulders of the usurper of
hisproperty. If the lad swore, he wouldn't correct him: nor however
culpably he behaved. It gaveJoseph satisfaction, apparently, to watch him
go the worst lengths: he allowed that he was ruined:that his soul was
abandoned to perdition; but then, he reflected that Heathcliff must answer
for it.Hareton's blood would be required at his hands; and there lay
immense consolation in that thought.Joseph had instilled into him a pride
of name, and of his lineage; he would, had he dared, havefostered hate
between him and the present owner of the Heights: but his dread of that
owneramounted to superstition; and he confined his feelings regarding him
to muttered innuendoes andprivate comminations. I don't pretend to be
intimately acquainted with the mode of living customaryin those days at
Wuthering Heights: I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little. The
villagers affirmedMr Heathcliff was near, and a cruel hard landlord to
his tenants; but the house, inside, had regainedits ancient aspect of
comfort under female management, and the scenes of riot common in
Hindley'stime were not now enacted within its walls. The master was too
gloomy to seek companionshipwith any people, good or bad; and he is yet.
This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathy rejected
the peace offering of theterrier, and demanded her own dogs, Charlie and
Phoenix. They came limping, and hanging theirheads; and we set out for
home, sadly out of sorts, every one of us. I could not wring from my
littlelady how she had spent the day; except that, as I supposed, the goal
of her pilgrimage wasPenistone Crags; and she arrived without adventure
to the gate of the farmhouse, when Haretonhappened to issue forth,
attended by some canine followers, who attacked her train. They had asmart
battle, before their owners could separate them: that ormed an
introduction. Catherine toldHareton who she was, nd where she was going;
and asked him to show her the way: finally,beguiling him to accompany her.
He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave, and twenty otherqueer places.
But, being in disgrace, I was not favoured with a description of the
interesting objectsshe saw. I could gather, however, that her guide had
been a favourite till she hurt his feelings byaddressing him as a servant;
and Heathcliffs housekeeper hurt hers by calling him her cousin. Thenthe
language he had held to her rankled in her heart; she who was always `love',
and `darling', and`queen', and `angel', with everybody at the Grange, to
be insulted so shockingly by a stranger! Shedid not comprehend it; and
hard work I had to obtain a promise that she would not lay thegrievance
before her father. I explained how he objected to the whole household at
the Heights,and how sorry he would be to find she had been there; but I
insisted most on the fact, that if sherevealed my negligence of his orders,
he would perhaps be so angry, that I should have to leave;and Cathy
couldn't bear that prospect: she pledged her word, and kept it, for my
sake. After all,she was a sweet little girl.
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