CHAPTER XXIX

aswinter—allroundwassolitary.Ididn’tfearthatherfoolofahusbandwouldwanderuptheglensolateandnooneelsehadbusinesstobringthemthere.Beingalone,andconscioustwoyardsoflooseearthwasthesolebarrierbetweenus,Isaidtomyself—‘I’llhaveherinmyarmsagain!Ifshebecold,I’llthinkitisthisnorthwindthatchillsmeandifshebemotionless,itissleep.’Igotaspadefromthetool-house,andbegantodelvewithallmymight—itscrapedthecoffinIfelltoworkwithmyhandsthewoodcommencedcrackingaboutthescrewsIwasonthepointofattainingmyobject,whenitseemedthatIheardasighfromsomeoneabove,closeattheedgeofthegrave,andbendingdown.‘IfIcanonlygetthisoff,’Imuttered,‘Iwishtheymayshovelintheearthoverusboth!’andIwrenchedatitmoredesperatelystill.Therewasanothersigh,closeatmyear.Iappearedtofeelthewarmbreathofitdisplacingthesleet-ladenwind.Iknewnolivingthinginfleshandbloodwasbybut,ascertainlyasyouperceivetheapproachtosomesubstantialbodyinthedark,thoughitcannotbediscerned,socertainlyIfeltthatCathywasthere:notunderme,butontheearth.Asuddensenseofreliefflowedfrommyheartthrougheverylimb.Irelinquishedmylabourofagony,andturnedconsoledatonce:unspeakablyconsoled.Herpresencewaswithme:itremainedwhileIre-filledthegrave,andledmehome.Youmaylaugh,ifyouwillbutIwassureIshouldseeherthere.Iwassureshewaswithme,andIcouldnothelptalkingtoher.HavingreachedtheHeights,Irushedeagerlytothedoor.Itwasfastenedand,Iremember,thataccursedEarnshawandmywifeopposedmyentrance.Irememberstoppingtokickthebreathoutofhim,andthenhurryingupstairs,tomyroomandhers.Ilookedroundimpatiently—Ifeltherbyme—Icouldalmostseeher,andyetIcouldnot!Ioughttohavesweatbloodthen,fromtheanguishofmyyearning—fromthefervourofmysupplicationstohavebutoneglimpse!Ihadnotone.Sheshowedherself,assheoftenwasinlife,adeviltome!And,sincethen,sometimesmoreandsometimesless,I’vebeenthesportofthatintolerabletorture!Infernal!keepingmynervesatsuchastretchthat,iftheyhadnotresembledcatgut,theywouldlongagohaverelaxedtothefeeblenessofLinton’s.WhenIsatinthehousewithHareton,itseemedthatongoingoutIshouldmeetherwhenI