CHAPTER XI

Sometimes,whilemeditatingonthesethingsinsolitude,I’vegotupinasuddenterror,andputonmybonnettogoseehowallwasatthefarm.I’vepersuadedmyconsciencethatitwasadutytowarnhimhowpeopletalkedregardinghiswaysandthenI’verecollectedhisconfirmedbadhabits,and,hopelessofbenefitinghim,haveflinchedfromre-enteringthedismalhouse,doubtingifIcouldbeartobetakenatmyword. OnetimeIpassedtheoldgate,goingoutofmyway,onajourneytoGimmerton.Itwasabouttheperiodthatmynarrativehasreached:abrightfrostyafternoonthegroundbare,andtheroadhardanddry.Icametoastonewherethehighwaybranchesoffontothemooratyourlefthandaroughsand-pillar,withthelettersW.H.cutonitsnorthside,ontheeast,G.,andonthesouth-west,T.G.Itservesasaguide-posttotheGrange,theHeights,andvillage.Thesunshoneyellowonitsgreyhead,remindingmeofsummerandIcannotsaywhy,butallatonceagushofchild’ssensationsflowedintomyheart.HindleyandIhelditafavouritespottwentyyearsbefore.Igazedlongattheweather-wornblockand,stoopingdown,perceivedaholenearthebottomstillfullofsnail-shellsandpebbles,whichwewerefondofstoringtherewithmoreperishablethingsand,asfreshasreality,itappearedthatIbeheldmyearlyplaymateseatedonthewitheredturf:hisdark,squareheadbentforward,andhislittlehandscoopingouttheearthwithapieceofslate.“PoorHindley!”Iexclaimed,involuntarily.Istarted:mybodilyeyewascheatedintoamomentarybeliefthatthechildlifteditsfaceandstaredstraightintomine!ItvanishedinatwinklingbutimmediatelyIfeltanirresistibleyearningtobeattheHeights.Superstitionurgedmetocomplywiththisimpulse:supposingheshouldbedead!Ithought—orshoulddiesoon!—supposingitwereasignofdeath!ThenearerIgottothehousethemoreagitatedIgrewandoncatchingsightofitItrembledineverylimb.Theapparitionhadoutstrippedme:itstoodlookingthroughthegate.Thatwasmyfirstideaonobservinganelf-locked,brown-eyedboysettinghisruddycountenanceagainstthebars.FurtherreflectionsuggestedthismustbeHareton,myHareton,notalteredgreatlysinceIlefthim,tenmonthssince. “Godblessthee,darling!”Icried,forgettinginstantaneouslymyfoolishfears.“Hareton,it’sNelly!Nelly,thynurse.” Heretreatedoutofarm’slength,andpickedupalargeflint. “Iamcometoseethyfather,Hareton,”Iadded,guessingfromtheactionthatNelly,ifshelivedinhismemoryatall,wasnotrecognisedasonewithme. HeraisedhismissiletohurlitIcommencedasoothingspeech,butcouldnotstayhishand:thestonestruckmybonnetandthenensued,fromthestammeringlipsofthelittlefellow,astringofcurses,which,whetherhecomprehendedthemornot,weredeliveredwithpractisedemphasis,anddistortedhisbabyfeaturesintoashockingexpressionofmalignity.Youmaybecertainthisgrievedmorethanangeredme.Fittocry,Itookanorangefrommypocket,andofferedittopropitiatehim.Hehesitated,andthensnatcheditfrommyholdasifhefanciedIonlyintendedtotemptanddisappointhim.Ishowedanother,keepingitoutofhisreach. “Whohastaughtyouthosefinewords,mybairn?”Iinquired.“Thecurate?” “Damnthecurate,andthee!Giemethat,”hereplied. “Telluswhereyougotyourlessons,andyoushallhaveit,”saidI.“Who’syourmaster?” “Devildaddy,”washisanswer. “Andwhatdoyoulearnfromdaddy?”Icontinued. HejumpedatthefruitIraisedithigher.“Whatdoesheteachyou?”Iasked. “Naught,”saidhe,“buttokeepoutofhisgait.Daddycannotbideme,becauseIswearathim.” “Ah!andthedevilteachesyoutoswearatdaddy?”Iobserved. “Ay—nay,”hedrawled. “Who,then?” “Heathcliff.” “IaskedifhelikedMr.Heathcliff.” “Ay!”heansweredagain. Desiringtohavehisreasonsforlikinghim,Icouldonlygatherthesentences—“Iknown’t:hepaysdadbackwhathegiestome—hecursesdaddyforcursingme.HesaysImundoasIwill.” “Andthecuratedoesnotteachyoutoreadandwrite,then?”Ipursued. “No,Iwastoldthecurateshouldhavehis——teethdasheddownhis——throat,ifhesteppedoverthethreshold—Heathcliffhadpromisedthat!” Iputtheorangeinhishand,andbadehimtellhisfatherthatawomancalledNellyDeanwaswaitingtospeakwithhim,bythegardengate.Hewentu