CHAPTER V

ousethemasterforprayersandbed.Hesteppedforward,andcalledhimbyname,andtouchedhisshoulderbuthewouldnotmove:sohetookthecandleandlookedathim.Ithoughttherewassomethingwrongashesetdownthelightandseizingthechildreneachbyanarm,whisperedthemto“frameupstairs,andmakelittledin—theymightprayalonethatevening—hehadsummuttodo.” “Ishallbidfathergood-nightfirst,”saidCatherine,puttingherarmsroundhisneck,beforewecouldhinderher.Thepoorthingdiscoveredherlossdirectly—shescreamedout—“Oh,he’sdead,Heathcliff!he’sdead!”Andtheybothsetupaheart-breakingcry. Ijoinedmywailtotheirs,loudandbitterbutJosephaskedwhatwecouldbethinkingoftoroarinthatwayoverasaintinheaven.HetoldmetoputonmycloakandruntoGimmertonforthedoctorandtheparson.Icouldnotguesstheusethateitherwouldbeof,then.However,Iwent,throughwindandrain,andbroughtone,thedoctor,backwithmetheothersaidhewouldcomeinthemorning.LeavingJosephtoexplainmatters,Irantothechildren’sroom:theirdoorwasajar,Isawtheyhadneverlaindown,thoughitwaspastmidnightbuttheywerecalmer,anddidnotneedmetoconsolethem.ThelittlesoulswerecomfortingeachotherwithbetterthoughtsthanIcouldhavehiton:noparsonintheworldeverpicturedheavensobeautifullyastheydid,intheirinnocenttalkand,whileIsobbedandlistened,Icouldnothelpwishingwewerealltheresafetogether.