CHAPTER XXXII

1802.—ThisSeptemberIwasinvitedtodevastatethemoorsofafriendinthenorth,andonmyjourneytohisabode,IunexpectedlycamewithinfifteenmilesofGimmerton.Theostlerataroadsidepublic-housewasholdingapailofwatertorefreshmyhorses,whenacartofverygreenoats,newlyreaped,passedby,andheremarked,—“Yon’sfroughGimmerton,nah!They’reallasthreewick’afterotherfolkwi’therharvest.” “Gimmerton?”Irepeated—myresidenceinthatlocalityhadalreadygrowndimanddreamy.“Ah!Iknow.Howfarisitfromthis?” “Happenfourteenmileo’erth’hillsandaroughroad,”heanswered. AsuddenimpulseseizedmetovisitThrushcrossGrange.Itwasscarcelynoon,andIconceivedthatImightaswellpassthenightundermyownroofasinaninn.Besides,Icouldspareadayeasilytoarrangematterswithmylandlord,andthussavemyselfthetroubleofinvadingtheneighbourhoodagain.Havingrestedawhile,Idirectedmyservanttoinquirethewaytothevillageand,withgreatfatiguetoourbeasts,wemanagedthedistanceinsomethreehours. Ilefthimthere,andproceededdownthevalleyalone.Thegreychurchlookedgreyer,andthelonelychurchyardlonelier.Idistinguishedamoor-sheepcroppingtheshortturfonthegraves.Itwassweet,warmweather—toowarmfortravellingbuttheheatdidnothindermefromenjoyingthedelightfulsceneryaboveandbelow:hadIseenitnearerAugust,I’msureitwouldhavetemptedmetowasteamonthamongitssolitudes.Inwinternothingmoredreary,insummernothingmoredivine,thanthoseglensshutinbyhills,andthosebluff,boldswellsofheath. IreachedtheGrangebeforesunset,andknockedforadmittancebutthefamilyhadretreatedintothebackpremises,Ijudged,byonethin,bluewreath,curlingfromthekitchenchimney,andtheydidnothear.Irodeintothecourt.Undertheporch,agirlofnineortensatknitting,andanoldwomanreclinedonthehousesteps,smokingameditativepipe. “IsMrs.Deanwithin?”Idemandedofthedame. “MistressDean?Nay!”sheanswered,“shedoesn’tbidehere:shoo’supatth’Heights.” “Areyouthehousekeeper,then?”Icontinued. “Eea,Awkeepth’hause,”shereplied. “Well,I’mMr.Lockwood,themaster.Arethereanyroomstolodgemein,Iwonder?Iwishtostayallnight.” “T’maister!”shecriedinastonishment.“Whet,whoiverknewyahwurcoming?Yahsudha’sendword.They’snowtnortherdrynormensfulabahtt’place:nowtthereisn’t!” Shethrewdownherpipeandbustledin,thegirlfollowed,andIenteredtoosoonperceivingthatherreportwastrue,and,moreover,thatIhadalmostupsetherwitsbymyunwelcomeapparition,Ibadeherbecomposed.Iwouldgooutforawalkand,meantimeshemusttrytoprepareacornerofasitting-roomformetosupin,andabedroomtosleepin.Nosweepinganddusting,onlygoodfireanddrysheetswerenecessary.Sheseemedwillingtodoherbestthoughshethrustthehearth-brushintothegratesinmistakeforthepoker,andmalappropriatedseveralotherarticlesofhercraft:butIretired,confidinginherenergyforaresting-placeagainstmyreturn.WutheringHeightswasthegoalofmyproposedexcursion.Anafter-thoughtbroughtmeback,whenIhadquittedthecourt. “AllwellattheHeights?”Iinquiredofthewoman. “Eea,f’rowteeknaw!”sheanswered,skurryingawaywithapanofhotcinders. IwouldhaveaskedwhyMrs.DeanhaddesertedtheGrange,butitwasimpossibletodelayheratsuchacrisis,soIturnedawayandmademyexit,ramblingleisurelyalong,withtheglowofasinkingsunbehind,andthemildgloryofarisingmooninfront—onefading,andtheotherbrightening—asIquittedthepark,andclimbedthestonyby-roadbranchingofftoMr.Heathcliff’sdwelling.BeforeIarrivedinsightofit,allthatremainedofdaywasabeamlessamberlightalongthewest:butIcouldseeeverypebbleonthepath,andeverybladeofgrass,bythatsplendidmoon.Ihadneithertoclimbthegatenortoknock—ityieldedtomyhand.Thatisanimprovement,Ithought.AndInoticedanother,bytheaidofmynostrilsafragranceofstocksandwallflowerswaftedontheairfromamongstthehomelyfruit-trees. Bothdoorsandlatticeswereopenandyet,asisusuallythecaseinacoal-district,afineredfireilluminedthechimney:thecomfortwhichtheeyederivesfromitrenderstheextraheatendurable.ButthehouseofWutheringHeightsissolarg