CHAPTER XIII

lhavehissoul!Itwillbetentimesblackerwiththatguestthaneveritwasbefore!” You’veacquaintedme,Ellen,withyouroldmaster’shabits.Heisclearlyonthevergeofmadness:hewassolastnightatleast.Ishudderedtobenearhim,andthoughtontheservant’sill-bredmorosenessascomparativelyagreeable.Henowrecommencedhismoodywalk,andIraisedthelatch,andescapedintothekitchen.Josephwasbendingoverthefire,peeringintoalargepanthatswungaboveitandawoodenbowlofoatmealstoodonthesettlecloseby.Thecontentsofthepanbegantoboil,andheturnedtoplungehishandintothebowlIconjecturedthatthispreparationwasprobablyforoursupper,and,beinghungry,Iresolveditshouldbeeatableso,cryingoutsharply,“I’llmaketheporridge!”Iremovedthevesseloutofhisreach,andproceededtotakeoffmyhatandriding-habit.“Mr.Earnshaw,”Icontinued,“directsmetowaitonmyself:Iwill.I’mnotgoingtoacttheladyamongyou,forfearIshouldstarve.” “GooidLord!”hemuttered,sittingdown,andstrokinghisribbedstockingsfromthekneetotheankle.“Ifthere’stobefreshortherings—justwhenIgettenusedtotwomaisters,ifImunhev’amistressseto’ermyheead,it’sliketimetobeflitting.Iniverdidthinktoseet’daythatImudlaveth’owldplace—butIdoubtit’snighathand!” Thislamentationdrewnonoticefromme:Iwentbrisklytowork,sighingtorememberaperiodwhenitwouldhavebeenallmerryfunbutcompelledspeedilytodriveofftheremembrance.Itrackedmetorecallpasthappinessandthegreaterperiltherewasofconjuringupitsapparition,thequickerthethibleranround,andthefasterthehandfulsofmealfellintothewater.Josephbeheldmystyleofcookerywithgrowingindignation. “Thear!”heejaculated.“Hareton,thouwilln’tsupthyporridgeto-neeghtthey’llbenaughtbutlumpsasbigasmyneive.Thear,agean!I’dflinginbowlun’all,ifIwerye!There,palet’guilpoff,un’thenye’llhaedonewi’t.Bang,bang.It’samercyt’bothomisn’tdeavedout!” Itwasratheraroughmess,Iown,whenpouredintothebasinsfourhadbeenprovided,andagallonpitcherofnewmilkwasbroughtfromthedairy,whichHaretonseizedandcommenceddrinkingandspillingfromtheexpansivelip.Iexpostulated,anddesiredthatheshouldhavehisinamugaffirmingthatIcouldnottastetheliquidtreatedsodirtily.Theoldcynicchosetobevastlyoffendedatthisnicetyassuringme,repeatedly,that“thebarnwaseverybitasgood”asI,“andeverybitaswollsome,”andwonderinghowIcouldfashiontobesoconceited.Meanwhile,theinfantruffiancontinuedsuckingandgloweredupatmedefyingly,asheslaveredintothejug. “Ishallhavemysupperinanotherroom,”Isaid.“Haveyounoplaceyoucallaparlour?” “Parlour!”heechoed,sneeringly,“parlour!Nay,we’venoaparlours.Ifyahdunnutloikewercompany,there’smaister’sun’ifyahdunnutloikemaister,there’sus.” “ThenIshallgoupstairs,”Ianswered“showmeachamber.” Iputmybasinonatray,andwentmyselftofetchsomemoremilk.Withgreatgrumblings,thefellowrose,andprecededmeinmyascent:wemountedtothegarretsheopenedadoor,nowandthen,tolookintotheapartmentswepassed. “Here’sarahm,”hesaid,atlast,flingingbackacrankyboardonhinges.“It’sweeleneughtoateafewporridgein.There’sapacko’corni’t’corner,thear,meeterlyclaneifye’refearedo’muckyingyergrandsilkcloes,spreadyerhankerchiro’t’topon’t.” The“rahm”wasakindoflumber-holesmellingstrongofmaltandgrainvarioussacksofwhicharticleswerepiledaround,leavingawide,barespaceinthemiddle. “Why,man,”Iexclaimed,facinghimangrily,“thisisnotaplacetosleepin.Iwishtoseemybed-room.” “Bed-rume!”herepeated,inatoneofmockery.“Yah’sseeallt’bed-rumesthearis—yon’smine.” Hepointedintothesecondgarret,onlydifferingfromthefirstinbeingmorenakedaboutthewalls,andhavingalarge,low,curtainlessbed,withanindigo-colouredquilt,atoneend. “WhatdoIwantwithyours?”Iretorted.“IsupposeMr.Heathcliffdoesnotlodgeatthetopofthehouse,doeshe?” “Oh!it’sMaisterHathecliff’sye’rewanting?”criedhe,asifmakinganewdiscovery.“Couldn’tyeha’saidsoa,atonst?un’then,Imudha’telledye,bahtallthiswark,thatthat’sjustoneyecannutsee—heallaskeepsitlocked,un’nob’dyivermellson’tbuthisseln.” “You’veanicehouse,Joseph,”Icouldnotrefrainfromobserving,“andpleasantinmatesandIt