«I wish my father was still alive. Hindley is so cruel to us. He makes H. work in the fields all day and never allows us to play together. H. and I are going to rebel. We will take our first steps tomorrow…»
But then the writing ended and I dozed off again, dreaming of a swarm of Catherines – Catherine Earnshaw, Catherine Linton, Catherine Heathcliff – all jumbled up together, until my head was spinning.
Finally, I managed to drag myself into bed. But just as I was drifting off to sleep I became aware of a loud, insistent noise. Somewhere outside, a branch was knocking against the window, scratching and thumping in time to the wailing of the wind.
Eventually, I could bear it no longer. I climbed out of bed, determined to break off the branch and put an end to the noise. But when I tried to open the window, I found that it had been sealed tightly shut[7]. By this time, I was so desperate to stop the knocking that I pushed my knuckles right through the glass. Then I stretched out my hand, ready to grasp the branch… but instead my fingers closed on a small, ice-cold hand!
I tried to pull back, but the icy fingers tightened their grip[8], and I heard a melancholy voice moaning,
«Let me in – let me in!»
«Who are you?» I shouted, struggling to be free[9].
«Catherine Linton,» the shivery voice replied. «I’ve come home. I lost my way on the moor, but now I’ve come home.»
I peered out into the snow and saw, very faintly, the outline of a young girl’s face, staring back at me!
Terror made me cruel, and finding it impossible to shake off the creature’s hand, I rubbed the delicate wrist across the broken glass, until the ledge was covered in blood. But still the hand kept its grip, driving me mad with fear, while the voice continued to wail, «Let me in!»
«How can I let you in,» I said grimly, «if you hold my hand so tightly? You’ll have to let me go if you want to come in.»
As soon as the fingers relaxed, I snatched back my hand and blocked up the hole with a pile of books. Then I covered my ears to keep out the sound of the terrible wailing.
I kept my ears covered for more than quarter of an hour, but the moment I listened again, I heard the mournful cry once more.
«Go away!» I shouted, «I’ll never let you in – not if you beg for twenty years!»
«But it is twenty years,» moaned the voice. «I’ve been wandering the moors for twenty years!»
Then the scratching began again and the books on the ledge started to shake. I tried to jump up, but found I couldn’t move, so I opened my mouth and yelled as loudly as I could.
Almost immediately, the door was wrenched open and Heathcliff burst into the room[10]. His face was as white as the walls around him and he was trembling from head to foot.
«Is anybody there?» he said in a half-whisper.
«It’s only your guest,» I announced, pulling myself together[11], «I was having a bad dream.»
«God damn you, sir!» he replied, shaking so hard that he had to put down his candle. «Who showed you into this room? I’ve a good mind to turn them out into the snow this minute![12]»
«It was your housemaid, Zillah,» I replied, dressing myself quickly, «and you can turn her out if you like, sir. I’m sure she deserves it, for letting me sleep in a room that’s swarming with ghosts and goblins!»
«What do you mean?» roared Heathcliff. «And what do you think you’re doing here? Lie down and finish the night, but for heaven’s sake don’t make that noise again. It sounded as though you were having your throat cut!»
«If the little fiend had got in, she probably would have strangled me to death!» I replied crossly.» I won’t put up with your horrible ghosts a moment longer. And as for that vixen, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or whatever she’s called – she must have been a wicked little fiend. She told me she’d been walking the earth for twenty years – I expect she was being punished for her sins!»
«How dare you talk like that under my roof!» thundered Heathcliff.
«Don’t worry, sir,» I replied, pulling on the rest of my clothes as fast as I could. «I don’t intend to spend another moment in this house!»
Heathcliff took no more notice of me. In seconds, he was at the window, forcing it wide open[13] with incredible strength.
«Come in! Come in!» he sobbed, leaning out into the snow. «Oh, my heart’s darling, hear me this time. Cathy, my darling, come in at last!»
But the ghost behaved as ghosts usually do, and showed no sign of ever having being there at all. Now there was nothing outside the window except the snow and wind, whirling around wildly in the dark. And, as I watched, the snowflakes blew into the room, and danced around madly, filling it with icy cold and blowing out the candle.
Heathcliff arrives
I spent the rest of the night trying to get some sleep on a hard kitchen bench, but as soon as it was light, I seized the chance to escape from Wuthering Heights. The moors were covered in billows of snow, and I lost count of the number of times I blundered off the path[14], sinking up to my waist in snow. When I finally reached the Grange, the clock was chiming twelve and I was too numb even to think. Nelly Dean, the housekeeper, made a great fuss of me, and I was soon sitting in my study, as feeble as a kitten, and almost too weak to enjoy the cheerful fire.
I stayed by the fire all afternoon, too exhausted to work, going over my strange adventures at Wuthering Heights[15]. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the faces of the people I had met… mysterious, brooding Heathcliff, young, sulky Catherine and clumsy, silent Hareton. Why did they hate each other so much, and why were they all living up at the Heights together? But most of all I wondered about the wild, dark-haired girl at the window. Was she a ghost or a fiend? And what was she doing wandering over the moors?
Eventually, I decided to give up all thoughts of studying for the day, and when Nelly arrived with my supper, I asked her to sit with me for a while, hoping she would tell me more about the Heights.
«I understand you’ve lived at the Grange for a long time,» I began. «Did you say it was eighteen years?
«Yes, sir – I came to look after my mistress when she married.»
«And who was your mistress, Nelly?» I asked.
«Her name was Catherine Earnshaw.»
(«Catherine Earnshaw!» I thought to myself. «Could this be the ghostly girl I’d seen at the window?»)
«And what happened to Catherine Earnshaw?» «She died, sir, soon after her marriage to Mr. Linton, but she had a daughter and I stayed on to look after her until she married and went to live at the Heights.»
«So is that the young lady I saw last night?»
«Yes, sir, she’s my young Miss Catherine, who I cared for all her life. But tell me, how is the poor girl now?»
«Mrs. Heathcliff? Well, I thought she looked healthy enough, and very beautiful, but she didn’t seem happy.»
Nelly sighed, «And what do you think of Heathcliff, Mr. Lockwood?»
«A rather rough fellow, I thought. Don’t you agree?
«Oh, he’s as rough as a saw-edge and as hard as the rocks on the moor[16]! But he’s rich too.»
«Whatever can have happened to make him like he is?»
«Well that’s a long story, sir. His life is like a cuckoo’s… I know all about it, except where he was born and who his parents were, and how he grew so rich that he pushed all the other birds out of the nest.»
12
I’ve a good mind to turn them out into the snow this minute! – я готов его тотчас же отправить под снегопад!
15
going over my strange adventures at Wuthering Heights – вспоминая мои странные приключения в «Грозовом Перевале»
16
he’s as rough as a saw-edge and as hard as the rocks on the moor – он жесток, как лезвие пилы и тверд, как скалы на вересковой пустоши