While leading the way upstairs, she recommended that I should hide the candle, and not make a noise; for her master had an odd notion about the chamber she would put me in, and never let anybody lodge there willingly. I asked the reason. She did not know, she answered:she had only lived there a year or two; and they had so many queer goings on, she could not begin to be curious.

Too stupefied to be curious myself, I fastened my door and glanced round for the bed. The whole furniture consisted of a chair, a clothes-press, and a large oak case, with squares cut out near the top resembling coach windows. Having approached this structure, I looked inside, and perceived it to be a singular sort of old-fashioned couch, very conveniently designed to obviate the necessity for every member of the family having a room to himself. In fact, it formed a little closet, and the ledge of a window, which it enclosed, served as a table. I slid back the panelled sides, got in with my light, pulled them together again, and felt secure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else.

The ledge, where I placed my candle, had a few mildewed books piled up in one corner; and it was covered with writing scratched on the paint. This writing, however, was nothing but a name repeated in all kinds of characters, large and small—Catherine Earnshaw, here and there varied to Catherine Heathcliff, and then again to Catherine Linton.

In vapid listlessness I leant my head against the window, and continued spelling over Catherine Earnshaw-Heathcliff-Linton, till my eyes closed; but they had not rested five minutes when a glare of white letters started from the dark, as vivid as spectres-the air swarmed with Catherines; and rousing myself to dispel the obtrusive name, I discovered my candle-wick reclining on one of the antique volumes, and perfuming the place with an odour of roasted calf-skin. I snuffed it off, and, very ill at ease under the influence of cold and lingering nausea, sat up and spread open the injured tome on my knee. It was a Testament, in lean type, and smelling dreadfully musty: a fly-leaf bore the inscription-‘Catherine Earnshaw, her book,’and a date some quarter of a century back. I shut it, and took up another and another, till I had examined all. Catherine's library was select, and its state of dilapidation proved it to have been well used, though not altogether for a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter had escaped, a pen-and-ink commentary-at least the appearance of one-covering every morsel of blank that the printer had left. Some were detached sentences; other parts took the form of a regular diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of an extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) I was greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friend Joseph, -rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interest kindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began forthwith to decipher her faded hieroglyphics.

‘An awful Sunday,’commenced the paragraph beneath.‘I wish my father were back again. Hindley is a detestable substitute-his conduct to Heathcliff is atrocious-H. and I are going to rebel-we took our initiatory step this evening.

‘All day had been flooding with rain; we could not go to church, so Joseph must needs get up a congregation in the garret; and, while Hindley and his wife basked downstairs before a comfortable fire-doing anything but reading their Bibles, I'll answer for it-Heathcliff, myself, and the unhappy ploughboy were commanded to take our prayer-books, and mount:we were ranged in a row, on a sack of corn, groaning and shivering, and hoping that Joseph would shiver too, so that he might give us a short homily for his own sake. A vain idea! The service lasted precisely three hours; and yet my brother had the face to exclaim, when he saw us descending,“What, done already?”On Sunday evenings we used to be permitted to play, if we did not make much noise; now a mere titter is sufficient to send us into corners.

‘“You forget you have a master here,”says the tyrant.“I'll demolish the first who puts me out of temper! I insist on perfect sobriety and silence. Oh, boy! was that you? Frances darling, pull his hair as you go by: I heard him snap his fingers.”Frances pulled his hair heartily, and then went and seated herself on her husband's knee, and there they were, like two babies, kissing and talking nonsense by the hour-foolish palaver that we should be ashamed of. We made ourselves as snug as our means allowed in the arch of the dresser. I had just fastened our pinafores together, and hung them up for a curtain, when in comes Joseph, on an errand from the stables. He tears down my handiwork, boxes my ears, and croaks:

‘“T’maister nobbut just buried, and Sabbath not o'ered, und t’sound o’t’gospel still i’yer lugs, and ye darr be laiking! Shame on ye! sit ye down, ill childer! there's good books eneugh if ye'll read 'em: sit ye down, and think o’yer sowls!”

‘Saying this, he compelled us so to square our positions that we might receive from the far-off fire a dull ray to show us the text of the lumber he thrust upon us. I could not bear the employment. I took my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dog-kennel, vowing I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. Then there was a hubbub!

‘“Maister Hindley!”shouted our chaplain.“Maister, coom hither! Miss Cathy's riven th’back off‘Th’Helmet o’Salvation,’un’Heathcliff's pawsed his fit into t’first part o’‘T’Brooad Way to Destruction!’It's fair flaysome that ye let 'em go on this gait. Ech! th’owd man wad ha’laced 'em properly-but he's goan!”

‘Hindley hurried up from his paradise on the hearth, and seizing one of us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both into the back-kitchen; where, Joseph asseverated,“owd Nick”would fetch us as sure as we were living: and, so comforted, we each sought a separate nook to await his advent. I reached this book, and a pot of ink from a shelf, and pushed the housedoor ajar to give me light, and I have got the time on with writing for twenty minutes; but my companion is impatient, and proposes that we should appropriate the dairywoman's cloak, and have a scamper on the moors, under its shelter. A pleasant suggestion-and then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified-we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here.’

I suppose Catherine fulfilled her project, for the next sentence took up another subject: she waxed lachrymose.

‘How little did I dream that Hindley would ever make me cry so!’she wrote.‘My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow; and still I can't give over. Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won't let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if we break his orders. He has been blaming our father (how dared he? ) for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right place-’

I began to nod drowsily over the dim page: my eye wandered from manuscript to print. I saw a red ornamented title—‘Seventy Times Seven, and the First of the Seventy-First. A Pious Discourse delivered by the Reverend Jabez Branderham, in the Chapel of Gimmerden Sough.’And while I was, half-consciously, worrying my brain to guess what Jabez Branderham would make of his subject, I sank back in bed, and fell asleep. Alas, for the effects of bad tea and bad temper! What else could it be that made me pass such a terrible night? I don't remember another that I can at all compare with it since I was capable of suffering.

I began to dream, almost before I ceased to be sensible of my locality. I thought it was morning; and I had set out on my way home, with Joseph for a guide. The snow lay yards deep in our road; and, as we floundered on, my companion wearied me with constant reproaches that I had not brought a pilgrim's staff: telling me that I could never get into the house without one, and boastfully flourishing a heavy-headed cudgel, which I understood to be so denominated. For a moment I considered it absurd that I should need such a weapon to gain admittance into my own residence. Then a new idea flashed across me. I was not going there: we were journeying to hear the famous Jabez Branderham preach, from the text—‘Seventy Times Seven;’and either Joseph, the preacher, or I had committed the‘First of the Seventy-First,’and were to be publicly exposed and excommunicated.

We came to the chapel. I have passed it really in my walks, twice or thrice; it lies in a hollow, between two hills: an elevated hollow, near a swamp, whose peaty moisture is said to answer all the purposes of embalming on the few corpses deposited there. The roof has been kept whole hitherto; but as the clergyman's stipend is only twenty pounds per annum, and a house with two rooms, threatening speedily to determine into one, no clergyman will undertake the duties of pastor: especially as it is currently reported that his flock would rather let him starve than increase the living by one penny from their own pockets. However, in my dream, Jabez had a full and attentive congregation; and he preached-good God! what a sermon;divided into four hundred and ninety parts, each fully equal to an ordinary address from the pulpit, and each discussing a separate sin! Where he searched for them, I cannot tell. He had his private manner of interpreting the phrase, and it seemed necessary the brother should sin different sins on every occasion. They were of the most curious character: odd transgressions that I never imagined previously.

Oh, how weary I grow. How I writhed, and yawned, and nodded, and revived! How I pinched and pricked myself, and rubbed my eyes, and stood up, and sat down again, and nudged Joseph to inform me if he would ever have done. I was condemned to hear all out:finally, he reached the‘First of the Seventy-First.’At that crisis, a sudden inspiration descended on me; I was moved to rise and denounce Jabez Branderham as the sinner of the sin that no Christian need pardon.

‘Sir,’I exclaimed,‘sitting here within these four walls, at one stretch, I have endured and forgiven the four hundred and ninety heads of your discourse. Seventy times seven times have I plucked up my hat and been about to depart—Seventy times seven times have you preposterously forced me to resume my seat. The four hundred and ninety-first is too much. Fellow-martyrs, have at him! Drag him down, and crush him to atoms, that the place which knows him may know him no more!’

‘Thou art the Man!’cried Jabez, after a solemn pause, leaning over his cushion.‘Seventy times seven times didst thou gapingly contort thy visage-seventy times seven did I take counsel with my soul-Lo, this is human weakness: this also may be absolved! The First of the Seventy-First is come. Brethren, execute upon him the judgment written. Such honour have all His saints!’

With that concluding word, the whole assembly, exalting their pilgrim's staves, rushed round me in a body; and I, having no weapon to raise in self-defence, commenced grappling with Joseph, my nearest and most ferocious assailant, for his. In the confluence of the multitude, several clubs crossed; blows, aimed at me, fell on other sconces. Presently the whole chapel resounded with rappings and counter rappings: every man's hand was against his neighbour;and Branderham, unwilling to remain idle, poured forth his zeal in a shower of loud taps on the boards of the pulpit, which responded so smartly that, at last, to my unspeakable relief, they woke me. And what was it that had suggested the tremendous tumult? What had played Jabez's part in the row? Merely the branch of a fir-tree that touched my lattice as the blast wailed by, and rattled its dry cones against the panes! I listened doubtingly an instant; detected the disturber, then turned and dozed, and dreamt again: if possible, still more disagreeably than before.

This time, I remembered I was lying in the oak closet, and I heard distinctly the gusty wind, and the driving of the snow; I heard, also, the fir bough repeat its teasing sound, and ascribed it to the right cause: but it annoyed me so much, that I resolved to silence it, if possible; and, I thought, I rose and endeavoured to unhasp the casement. The hook was soldered into the staple:a circumstance observed by me when awake, but forgotten.‘I must stop it, nevertheless!’I muttered, knocking my knuckles through the glass, and stretching an arm out to seize the importunate branch; instead of which, my fingers closed on the fingers of a little, ice-cold hand! The intense horror of nightmare came over me: I tried to draw back my arm, but the hand clung to it, and a most melancholy voice sobbed,‘Let me in-let me in!’‘Who are you?’I asked, struggling, meanwhile, to disengage myself.‘Catherine Linton,’it replied, shiveringly (why did I think of Linton? I had read Earnshaw twenty times for Linton)-‘I'm come home: I'd lost my way on the moor!’As it spoke, I discerned, obscurely, a child's face looking through the window. Terror made me cruel; and, finding it useless to attempt shaking the creature off, I pulled its wrist on to the broken pane, and rubbed it to and fro till the blood ran down and soaked the bedclothes: still it wailed,‘Let me in!’and maintained its tenacious gripe, almost maddening me with fear.‘How can I!’I said at length.‘Let me go, if you want me to let you in!’The fingers relaxed, I snatched mine through the hole, hurriedly piled the books up in a pyramid against it, and stopped my ears to exclude the lamentable prayer. I seemed to keep them closed above a quarter of an hour; yet, the instant I listened again, there was the doleful cry moaning on!‘Begone!’I shouted.‘I'll never let you in, not if you beg for twenty years.’‘It is twenty years,’mourned the voice:‘twenty years. I've been a waif for twenty years!’Thereat began a feeble scratching outside, and the pile of books moved as if thrust forward. I tried to jump up; but could not stir a limb; and so yelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright. To my confusion, I discovered the yell was not ideal: hasty footsteps approached my chamber door; somebody pushed it open, with a vigorous hand, and a light glimmered through the squares at the top of the bed. I sat shuddering yet, and wiping the perspiration from my forehead: the intruder appeared to hesitate, and muttered to himself. At last, he said, in a half-whisper, plainly not expecting an answer,‘Is any one here?’I considered it best to confess my presence; for I knew Heathcliff's accents, and feared he might search further, if I kept quiet. With this intention, I turned and opened the panels. I shall not soon forget the effect my action produced.

Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; with a candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as the wall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like an electric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up.

‘It is only your guest, sir,’I called out, desirous to spare him the humiliation of exposing his cowardice further.‘I had the misfortune to scream in my sleep, owing to a frightful nightmare. I'm sorry I disturbed you.’

‘Oh, God confound you, Mr. Lockwood! I wish you were at the—’commenced my host, setting the candle on a chair, because he found it impossible to hold it steady.‘And who showed you up into this room?’he continued, crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions.‘Who was it? I've a good mind to turn them out of the house this moment?’

‘It was your servant Zillah,’I replied, flinging myself on to the floor, and rapidly resuming my garments.‘I should not care if you did, Mr. Heathcliff; she richly deserves it. I suppose that she wanted to get another proof that the place was haunted, at my expense. Well, it is-swarming with ghosts and goblins! You have reason in shutting it up, I assure you. No one will thank you for a doze in such a den!’

‘What do you mean?’asked Heathcliff,‘and what are you doing? Lie down and finish out the night, since you are here; but, for heaven's sake! don't repeat that horrid noise: nothing could excuse it, unless you were having your throat cut!’

‘If the little fiend had got in at the window, she probably would have strangled me!’I returned.‘I'm not going to endure the persecutions of your hospitable ancestors again. Was not the Reverend Jabez Branderham akin to you on the mother's side? And that minx, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called-she must have been a changeling-wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal transgressions, I've no doubt!’

Scarcely were these words uttered when I recollected the association of Heathcliff's with Catherine's name in the book, which had completely slipped from my memory, till thus awakened. I blushed at my inconsideration: but, without showing further consciousness of the offence, I hastened to add-‘The truth is, sir, I passed the first part of the night in-’Here I stopped afresh-I was about to say‘perusing those old volumes,’then it would have revealed my knowledge of their written, as well as their printed, contents; so, correcting myself, I went on-‘in spelling over the name scratched on that window-ledge. A monotonous occupation, calculated to set me asleep, like counting, or-’

‘What can you mean by talking in this way to me!’thundered Heathcliff with savage vehemence.‘How-how dare you, under my roof? -God! he's mad to speak so!’And he struck his forehead with rage.

I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue my explanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pity and proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation of‘Catherine Linton’before, but reading it often over produced an impression which personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control. Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke; finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an excess of violent emotion. Not liking to show him that I had heard the conflict, I continued my toilette rather noisily, looked at my watch, and soliloquised on the length of the night:‘Not three o'clock yet! I could have taken oath it had been six. Time stagnates here: we must surely have retired to rest at eight!’

‘Always at nine in winter, and rise at four,’said my host, suppressing a groan: and, as I fancied, by the motion of his arm's shadow, dashing a tear from his eyes.‘Mr. Lockwood,’he added,‘you may go into my room: you'll only be in the way, coming down-stairs so early: and your childish outcry has sent sleep to the devil for me.’

‘And for me, too,’I replied.‘I'll walk in the yard till daylight, and then I'll be off; and you need not dread a repetition of my intrusion. I'm now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.’

‘Delightful company!’muttered Heathcliff.‘Take the candle, and go where you please. I shall join you directly. Keep out of the yard, though, the dogs are unchained; and the house-Juno mounts sentinel there, and-nay, you can only ramble about the steps and passages. But, away with you! I'll come in two minutes!’

I obeyed, so far as to quit the chamber; when, ignorant where the narrow lobbies led, I stood still, and was witness, involuntarily, to a piece of superstition on the part of my landlord which belied, oddly, his apparent sense. He got on to the bed, and wrenched open the lattice, bursting, as he pulled at it, into an uncontrollable passion of tears.‘Come in! come in!’he sobbed.‘Cathy, do come. Oh, do-once more! Oh! my heart's darling! hear me this time, Catherine, at last!’The spectre showed a spectre's ordinary caprice: it gave no sign of being; but the snow and wind whirled wildly through, even reaching my station, and blowing out the light.

There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though why was beyond my comprehension. I descended cautiously to the lower regions, and landed in the back-kitchen, where a gleam of fire, raked compactly together, enabled me to rekindle my candle. Nothing was stirring except a brindled, grey cat, which crept from the ashes, and saluted me with a querulous mew.

Two benches, shaped in sections of a circle, nearly enclosed the hearth; on one of these I stretched myself, and Grimalkin mounted the other. We were both of us nodding ere any one invaded our retreat, and then it was Joseph, shuffling down a wooden ladder that vanished in the roof, through a trap: the ascent to his garret, I suppose. He cast a sinister look at the little flame which I had enticed to play between the ribs, swept the cat from its elevation, and bestowing himself in the vacancy, commenced the operation of stuffing a three-inch pipe with tobacco. My presence in his sanctum was evidently esteemed a piece of impudence too shameful for remark: he silently applied the tube to his lips, folded his arms, and puffed away. I let him enjoy the luxury unannoyed; and after sucking out his last wreath, and heaving a profound sigh, he got up, and departed as solemnly as he came.

A more elastic footstep entered next; and now I opened my mouth for a‘good-morning,’but closed it again, the salutation unachieved; for Hareton Earnshaw was performing his orison sotto voce, in a series of curses directed against every object he touched, while he rummaged a corner for a spade or shovel to dig through the drifts. He glanced over the back of the bench, dilating his nostrils, and thought as little of exchanging civilities with me as with my companion the cat. I guessed, by his preparations, that egress was allowed, and, leaving my hard couch, made a movement to follow him. He noticed this, and thrust at an inner door with the end of his spade, intimating by an inarticulate sound that there was the place where I must go, if I changed my locality.

It opened into the house, where the females were already astir; Zillah urging flakes of flame up the chimney with a colossal bellows; and Mrs. Heathcliff, kneeling on the hearth, reading a book by the aid of the blaze. She held her hand interposed between the furnaceheat and her eyes, and seemed absorbed in her occupation; desisting from it only to chide the servant for covering her with sparks, or to push away a dog, now and then, that snoozled its nose overforwardly into her face. I was surprised to see Heathcliff there also. He stood by the fire, his back towards me, just finishing a stormy scene with poor Zillah; who ever and anon interrupted her labour to pluck up the corner of her apron, and heave an indignant groan.

‘And you, you worthless-’he broke out as I entered, turning to his daughter-in-law, and employing an epithet as harmless as duck, or sheep, but generally represented by a dash-.‘There you are, at your idle tricks again! The rest of them do earn their bread-you live on my charity! Put your trash away, and find something to do. You shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight-do you hear, damnable jade?’

‘I'll put my trash away, because you can make me if I refuse,’answered the young lady, closing her book, and throwing it on a chair.‘But I'll not do anything, though you should swear your tongue out, except what I please!’

Heathcliff lifted his hand, and the speaker sprang to a safer distance, obviously acquainted with its weight. Having no desire to be entertained by a cat-and-dog combat, I stepped forward briskly, as if eager to partake the warmth of the hearth, and innocent of any knowledge of the interrupted dispute. Each had enough decorum to suspend further hostilities: Heathcliff placed his fists, out of temptation, in his pockets; Mrs. Heathcliff curled her lip, and walked to a seat far off, where she kept her word by playing the part of a statue during the remainder of my stay. That was not long. I declined joining their breakfast, and, at the first gleam of dawn, took an opportunity of escaping into the free air, now clear, and still, and cold as impalpable ice.

My landlord halloed for me to stop ere I reached the bottom of the garden, and offered to accompany me across the moor. It was well he did, for the whole hill-back was one billowy, white ocean; the swells and falls not indicating corresponding rises and depressions in the ground: many pits, at least, were filled to a level; and entire ranges of mounds, the refuse of the quarries, blotted from the chart which my yesterday's walk left pictured in my mind. I had remarked on one side of the road, at intervals of six or seven yards, a line of upright stones, continued through the whole length of the barren: these were erected and daubed with lime on purpose to serve as guides in the dark, and also when a fall, like the present, confounded the deep swamps on either hand with the firmer path: but, excepting a dirty dot pointing up here and there, all traces of their existence had vanished: and my companion found it necessary to warn me frequently to steer to the right or left, when I imagined I was following, correctly, the windings of the road.

We exchanged little conversation, and he halted at the entrance of Thrushcross Park, saying, I could make no error there. Our adieux were limited to a hasty bow, and then I pushed forward, trusting to my own resources; for the porter's lodge is untenanted as yet. The distance from the gate to the grange is two miles; I believe I managed to make it four, what with losing myself among the trees, and sinking up to the neck in snow: a predicament which only those who have experienced it can appreciate. At any rate, whatever were my wanderings, the clock chimed twelve as I entered the house; and that gave exactly an hour for every mile of the usual way from Wuthering Heights.

My human fixture and her satellites rushed to welcome me; exclaiming, tumultuously, they had completely given me up: everybody conjectured that I perished last night; and they were wondering how they must set about the search for my remains. I bid them be quiet, now that they saw me returned, and, benumbed to my very heart, I dragged up-stairs; whence, after putting on dry clothes, and pacing to and fro thirty or forty minutes, to restore the animal heat, I adjourned to my study, feeble as a kitten: almost too much so to enjoy the cheerful fire and smoking coffee which the servant had prepared for my refreshment.

齊拉領我上樓時，建議我藏起蠟燭，不要出聲，因為東家對她安排我住的這個房間懷有一種古怪的念頭，從不樂意讓任何人住在那里。我問是什么原因。齊拉回答說她不知道。她才在這里住一兩年；這家人有好多怪事，她也就不去好奇了。

我自己茫然發呆，無法打聽，就閂好門，環顧四周，看床在哪里。所有的家具包括一把椅子、一個衣櫥和一只大橡木箱，靠近頂部的地方開了幾個馬車窗似的方洞。我湊近這個物件往里瞧，才看出這是一個獨特的老式長榻，設計非常便利，這樣家庭成員就沒有必要每人獨占一間了。其實，這件家具構成了一個小隔間，圈在其中的窗臺權當桌子。我推開壁板門扇，手持蠟燭鉆進去，又把門合住，不讓希斯克利夫和其他所有人警戒，心里才感到踏實。

我把蠟燭放在窗臺上，只見窗臺一角上摞著幾本發霉的書；窗臺漆面上劃滿了字跡。然而，這些字跡只是用各種不同字體或大或小反反復復寫的一個名字——“凱瑟琳·恩肖”，在這里改寫成“凱瑟琳·希斯克利夫”，在那里又改寫成了“凱瑟琳·林頓”。

我百無聊賴，無精打采地把頭靠在窗戶上，不停地思考著凱瑟琳·恩肖——希斯克利夫——林頓，直到合上眼睛；然而，眼睛還沒有休息五分鐘，就有一個個白花花的字母從黑暗中閃射出來，猶如鬼影一般浮現在眼前——空氣里到處都是“凱瑟琳”這個名字；我驚跳起來，想驅散這個過分炫耀的名字，這才發現蠟燭芯正倒在其中一本古書上，使那個地方散發出了一股烤焦的牛皮味。我熄滅蠟燭，在寒冷和持續惡心的影響下，心神不安，坐起來，把那本烤壞的書攤開，放在膝蓋上。那是一本瘦長體印刷的《圣經》，散發出一股可怕的霉味：空白扉頁上題有——“凱瑟琳·恩肖藏書”，日期大約是二十五年前的。我合了上去，拿起了一本又一本，全都看了一遍。凱瑟琳的藏書都是經過精選的，藏書磨損的狀況表明都得到了充分利用，盡管并不完全出于正當的目的：幾乎沒有一章幸免，鋼筆寫的注釋——至少看起來像是——填滿了排版留出的每一處空白。有些是不連貫的句子；有些是正規日記的形式，筆跡潦草稚氣，沒有定型。在一頁襯紙的上端（也許蠟燭剛照上時還以為是一件寶貝呢），我非常高興地看到了朋友約瑟夫的一幅出色的漫畫——盡管畫得粗糙，但很有氣勢。這使我心里馬上對這位不認識的凱瑟琳產生了興趣，于是我立刻開始辨認她那些模糊不清、難以辨認的字體。

“糟糕的禮拜天，”下面的一段文字開頭寫道，“我真希望父親再次回來。欣德利是一個可惡的繼承人——他對希斯克利夫的行為真殘忍——希和我準備反抗——我們今晚實施第一步。

“一整天都在下大雨；我們都去不了教堂，所以約瑟夫非要在閣樓召集圣會布道不可；這時，欣德利和他的妻子在樓下舒適的壁爐前烤火——我敢說，他們什么都可能做，就是不可能念他們的《圣經》——希斯克利夫、我本人和這個不幸的鄉巴佬奉命拿著我們的祈禱書，爬到上面：我們排成一排，坐在一包谷物上，哼哼嘰嘰，哆哆嗦嗦，還希望約瑟夫也會渾身哆嗦，這樣他也許會為自己著想，少給我們布些道。真是妄想！這個禮拜分秒不差持續了整整三個小時；可是，我的哥哥看到我們下來，竟有臉大聲叫道：‘什么，已經做完了？’禮拜天晚上，要是我們不太吵的話，通常就會獲準玩耍；現在僅僅偷笑一下，都足夠罰我們站墻角了。

“‘你們忘了還有一個東家在這里，’這個暴君說，‘誰先惹我發火，我就滅了誰！我堅決要求絕對的清醒和安靜。噢，好小子！那是你嗎？弗蘭西斯，親愛的，你過去時揪他的頭發：我聽到他打響指。’弗蘭西斯狠狠地揪了一下他的頭發，然后走過去，坐到丈夫的膝蓋上。他們就在那里，像兩個小屁孩似的，又是親吻，又是神侃，過了一個小時——愚蠢的廢話，我們都覺得害臊。我們在櫥柜壁龕里想辦法使自己溫暖舒適。我剛把圍裙系在一起，掛起來當帷幕，約瑟夫就進來了，他有事從馬廄那邊來。約瑟夫扯下我的杰作，扇了我一耳光，聲音低啞地說道：

“主子剛下葬，安息日還沒有過完，你們的耳朵里福音還沒有散去，你們就玩上了！真不害臊！坐下來，壞孩子！只要你們愿意看，好書有的是。坐下來，想想你們的靈魂吧！”

“這樣說著，他硬逼著我們端坐起來，借著遠處壁爐散射過來的昏暗光線，看清他塞給我們的干巴巴的經文。我受不了這個差事，呼啦一聲拿起自己那本黑圣書，扔進了狗窩，詛咒發誓說我恨好書。希斯克利夫把他那本也踢進了同一地方。這下可出了亂子！”“欣德利少爺！”我們的牧師喊道，“少爺，快過來！凱茜小姐把《救世頭盔》的封底撕下來了，希斯克利夫用腳踩住了《毀滅之路》的第一部分！你讓他們這樣鬧下去可不得了啊。唉！換了老東家，早就治住他們了——可是，他不在了！”

“欣德利從壁爐那邊他的極樂世界匆匆趕來，一個拽著衣領，一個拎著胳膊，把我們倆撂進了后廚；在那里，約瑟夫斷言：‘老尼克肯定會活捉了我們。我們一時解脫，各自尋了一個安樂窩，等他出現。我從架子上伸手夠下這本書和一瓶墨水，把門微微推開，透進一些光亮。于是，我就寫了二十分鐘。可是，我的同伴不耐煩了，提議我們應該偷了擠奶女仆的斗篷，躲在下面，然后跑去荒野撒歡。主意不錯——這樣，要是惡老頭進來，他就會以為是他的預言應驗了呢——我們呆在雨地里，跟呆在這里一樣寒冷潮濕。”

我猜想凱瑟琳實現了她的計劃，因為下一句說起了另一件事：她悲傷地哭了起來。

“我做夢也沒有想到欣德利會讓我哭成這樣！”她寫道，“我頭疼，疼得我連枕頭都不能挨，還是哭個不停。可憐的希斯克利夫！欣德利罵他是流氓，再也不讓他跟我們一起坐了，也不讓他跟我們一起吃了；他還說，我和他再也不能一起玩，還嚇唬說，要是我們違抗他的命令，他就把希斯克利夫趕出門去。他一直責怪我們的父親（他怎么敢呢？）對待希太大方了，還發誓說要把他打回原形——”

我對著這個字跡模糊的書頁開始昏昏欲睡打起盹來，目光從手稿移到了鉛字上，看到了一個紅色花式字體標題——“七十乘以七和第七十一個七次的第一。杰貝茲·布蘭德哈姆牧師在吉默屯·蘇小禮拜堂宣講的一篇傳道經文”。我在半睡半醒中絞盡腦汁地猜測杰貝茲·布蘭德哈姆要怎么解釋他這個題目時，卻倒在床上睡著了。唉，都是壞茶葉和壞脾氣帶來的后果！還有什么能使我度過這個可怕的夜晚呢？自從能忍受痛苦以來，我記不起還有哪一夜跟這一夜相比。

我幾乎還在能意識到自己身在何處時，就開始做起了夢。我想那是早晨；我已經出發了，走在了回家的路上，有約瑟夫當向導。路上的雪有幾碼深；我們踉踉蹌蹌向前走，同伴不斷指責我沒有帶一根朝圣用的拐杖，對我說不帶拐杖我絕不可能走進家里，還虛張聲勢地揮舞著一根大頭棒——我明白這就是所謂的拐杖。一時間，我覺得這很可笑，我怎么會需要這樣一個武器才能獲準進自己的家呢？隨后，我的腦海里閃過了一個新的念頭。我不要回家，我們是去聽著名的杰貝茲·布蘭德哈姆宣講《七十乘以七》上的經文。要么是約瑟夫，要么是傳教士，要么是我，觸犯了“第七十一個七次的第一”條罪，要被當眾揭發，逐出教會。

我們來到了小禮拜堂。我散步時的確曾經從那里路過了兩三次；小禮拜堂位于兩山之間的一個山谷里，是一個抬高的山谷——山谷接近一片沼澤，據說沼澤泥煤似的濕氣對存放那里的幾具尸體完全可以起到防腐作用。房頂迄今保存完好；但是，因為牧師的薪金每年只有二十英鎊，一座兩間屋的房子很快就又變成一間的危險，所以沒有哪個教士愿意到這里擔任牧師的職位，尤其是當前傳說，他的教民們寧愿讓他餓死，也不愿從自己的口袋里多掏一便士增加他的薪金。然而，在我的夢里，杰貝茲卻會眾滿堂，全都聚精會神；他布起了道——天哪！多好的布道啊，分為四百九十節，每一節完全等于一篇普通布道，而且每一節都單獨討論一種罪孽！我說不清這些罪孽他是從哪里搜索的。他解釋片言只語都有自己獨有的方式，好像教友在每個場合都必須犯不同的罪孽。那些罪孽都具有最古怪的特征，我以前從來沒有想到過會有這種奇怪的罪孽。

噢，我越來越困乏了。我渾身扭動，哈欠連天，前仰后合，然后又醒過來！我對自己又掐又扎，不斷揉眼，站起又坐下，然后用胳膊肘碰約瑟夫，讓他告訴我，杰貝茲是不是要講完了。我注定要全部聽完。他終于講到了“第七十一個七次的第一”條罪。在這個關鍵時刻，我突然閃現出了一個靈感，不由得站起來，譴責杰貝茲·布蘭德哈姆是罪人，犯了基督徒都無法饒恕的罪孽。

“先生，”我高聲叫道，“我坐在這四面墻內，一口氣忍耐并寬恕了你宣講的四百九十條。我七十個七次拿起帽子準備離開——你又七十個七次荒唐地迫使我回到座位上。四百九十一次太過分了。受難的教友們，攻擊他！把他拽下來，把他砸成粉末，讓這個了解他的地方再也不認識他！”

“你就是那個人！”肅靜了一會兒之后，杰貝茲俯身在墊子上，大聲叫道，“你七十個七次張大嘴巴，面孔扭曲——我七十個七次跟自己的靈魂商量——瞧，這就是人類的弱點，這也是可以寬恕的！接下來就是第七十一個七次中的第一個了。教友們，對他執行成文的判決吧。所有圣徒都有這種榮譽！”

剛說完，全體會眾就舉著朝拜的拐杖向我沖來；我沒有武器拿來自衛，就開始跟距離我最近、攻擊最兇猛的約瑟夫扭打起來，搶奪他的拐杖。在蜂擁的人群中，好幾根棍棒交錯在一起，本來對準了我擊來，卻落在了別人的頭上。不久，整個禮拜堂噼里啪啦響成了一片；你來我往，每個人都向身邊的人動起了手；布蘭德哈姆也不愿無所事事，就拿出所有的熱情，急如雨點般啪啪啪敲擊布道壇。布道壇發出了非常響亮的回聲，最后終于把我驚醒了，使我有一種難以言表的輕松。是什么引發了那場驚人的吵鬧？在那場吵鬧中，是什么扮演了杰貝茲的角色？原來只是一陣狂風呼嘯而過時，一棵冷杉樹的樹枝碰到了我的窗格，冷杉樹的干果打在窗格上噼啪作響！我滿腹狐疑地聽了一會兒，聽清了是什么在搗亂，便轉過身繼續打盹，又做起了夢。如有可能，會比先前更加不快。

這一次，我記得自己正躺在橡木隔間里，對狂風暴雪聽得一清二楚；我聽到冷杉樹枝不斷敲打出煩人的響聲，也清楚是什么原因。但是，這種響聲讓我心煩意亂，我決定盡可能讓它靜下來，就想起身試圖打開窗扇搭扣。窗扇鉤焊進了鉤環里。醒著時，我注意到了這一情況，卻又忘到了腦后。“不過，我必須讓它停下來！”我一邊咕噥，一邊用指關節敲穿玻璃，伸出一只胳膊去拽那個纏擾不休的樹枝；我沒有拽著，手指卻握住了一只冰涼小手的手指！夢魘般的極度恐懼向我襲來，我想設法抽回胳膊，但那只手卻緊抓不放，隨后一個極其憂郁的聲音哭泣道：“讓我進去——讓我進去！”“你是誰？”我一邊問，一邊奮力掙脫。“凱瑟琳·林頓，”那個聲音顫抖著回答（我為什么想到林頓？我二十次都把林頓念成了恩肖）——“我要回家：我在荒野上迷了路！”它說話時，我模模糊糊地辨認出一張小孩子的臉正從窗外朝里望。恐懼使我變得殘忍；我發現試圖甩掉這小東西是白費功夫，就把它的手腕拽到破窗格上，在上面拽來拽去，直到血流下來，浸濕了床褥，它還是哀號：“讓我進去啊！”緊拽不放，快要把我嚇瘋了。“我怎么能呢？”我終于說道，“你想要我讓你進來，就放開我！”那些手指松開了。我突然從窗洞里抽回自己的手指，急忙把那些書摞起來頂住，然后捂住耳朵，不再聽那可憐的祈求，好像把耳朵捂了有十五分鐘以上；但是，我又側耳傾聽時，聽到悲哀的哭聲還在繼續嗚咽！“滾開！”我喊道，“你就是求上二十年，我也絕不會放你進來。”“是二十年了，”那個聲音憂傷地說，“二十年了。我已經做了二十年的孤魂野鬼了！”這時，外面開始響起了微弱的抓撓聲，那堆書好像被推向前挪動了一下。我想設法跳起來，但四肢卻動彈不得，就在一陣驚悚之中大聲尖叫起來。讓我大惑不解的是，我發現尖叫聲并不是憑空想象的，而是一陣急促的腳步聲逼近了我的臥室門口；有人用一只有力的手推開了門，一道光亮從床頂的方洞照了進來。我坐在那里，還在瑟瑟發抖，擦去額頭上的汗：來者似乎猶豫了一下，喃喃自語，最后半是耳語般說道：“這里有人嗎？”顯然并不指望有人回答。我想，最好還是承認我在這里，因為我聽出是希斯克利夫的口音，唯恐我不聲不響，他就會進一步搜索。這樣想著，我就轉身打開了壁板門。這一舉動產生的后果，我是不會馬上忘記的。

希斯克利夫穿著襯衣和褲子站在門邊，蠟燭正滴落在他的手指上，只見他的臉色就像他背后那堵墻一樣慘白。橡木嘎吱響了一聲，仿佛電擊一般嚇了他一跳：蠟燭從他的手里跳出來，落在了幾英尺開外的地方。他激動萬分，差點兒沒有拾起。

“先生，只不過是你的客人，”我大聲說道，不想讓他再露出怯懦而丟臉，“真倒霉，我做了一個可怕的惡夢，睡夢里尖叫了起來。對不起，打擾了你。”

“噢，該死的，洛克伍德先生！我真希望你到——”我的房東把蠟燭放在椅子上開口說道，因為他發現端不穩它，“那是誰把你帶進了這個房間？”他繼續說道，指甲深深地掐進了手掌，咬緊牙關，止住上頜抽搐。“是誰？我此刻就很想把他們都趕出門去！”

“是你的傭人齊拉，”我一邊回答，一邊跳到地板上，很快整好了衣服，“我可不會介意你這樣做，希斯克利夫先生；她真是活該。我想，她是拿我再證明一下這地方是不是鬧鬼吧。噢，是這樣——到處都是幽靈和小鬼！你有理由把它關起來，我向你保證。在這個洞穴里打盹，沒有人會感謝你！”

“你這話什么意思？”希斯克利夫問道，“你要干什么？既然你進來了，就躺下睡過這一夜吧；不過，看在老天的份上！不要再弄出那種可怕的聲音了：什么也原諒不了這一點，除非有人要割你的喉嚨！”

“那個小鬼要是從窗戶鉆進來，說不定就會掐死我！”我回答說，“我才不打算再忍受你那些好客祖先的迫害呢。難道杰貝茲·布蘭德哈姆牧師不是你母親那邊的親戚嗎？還有那個小妖女凱瑟琳·林頓或恩肖，要么管她叫什么——她一定是一個調包嬰兒——邪惡的小東西！她對我說，這二十年她一直游蕩在世界上：這是對她致命罪孽的應有懲罰，我毫不懷疑！”

剛說完，我就想起了那本書上希斯克利夫和凱瑟琳這兩個名字的聯系，完全忘記了這件事，這才醒悟過來。我為自己的考慮不周而臉紅，但沒有進一步露出我察覺到了自己的過失，而是急忙補充說——“事實上，先生，我前半夜是在——”說到這里，我又停了下來——我是要說“細讀那些舊書”，那就會暴露出我不僅了解書里印的東西，而且了解書上寫的東西；因此，我改口繼續說道——“拼讀劃在窗臺上的名字。枯燥乏味，是想催眠，就像數數，或者像——”

“你對我這樣說話，到底會有什么意思？”希斯克利夫窮兇極惡地大聲吼道，“你怎么——你怎么竟敢在我的家里？——天哪！他這樣說話，真是瘋了！”說著，他氣得打起了自己的額頭。

我不知道對他這樣說話是憎恨還是繼續解釋，他卻好像大為動情；我就起了惻隱之心，繼續敘述我做的那些夢，同時聲明我以前從來沒有聽說過“凱瑟琳·林頓”這個名字，但后來常常看，所以就產生了深刻的印象。當我迷迷糊糊地睡著時，它就以人的形象出現了。我敘說時，希斯克利夫漸漸地退到橡木床后面躲了起來，最后坐下來，幾乎被床擋住了。然而，通過他時而不勻、時而中斷的呼吸，我猜出了他在竭力克制過分強烈的情感。我不愿讓他察覺到我已經聽出了他內心的沖突，就繼續更衣，故意弄出一些聲響。我看了看手表，自言自語地說起了這漫漫長夜：“還不到三點鐘！我本來想賭咒說已經六點鐘了。時間在這里停頓了。我們肯定是八點鐘就已經就寢了！”

“冬季總是九點鐘睡覺，四點鐘起床。”房東壓住了一聲呻吟說。隨后，通過他的胳膊投下的影子做出的動作，我想他是匆匆地抹去了一滴眼淚。“洛克伍德先生，”他補充道，“你可以去我的房間。你這么早下樓，只會礙事。你那種孩子般的尖叫早已趕跑了我的睡意。”

“也趕跑了我的睡意。”我回答說，“我要到院子里走到天亮，然后就會離開；你不必害怕我再來打攪。我現在完全根治了交友找樂的毛病。無論是在鄉下還是在城里，一個理智的人就應該發現跟自己作伴足夠了。”

“愉快作伴！”希斯克利夫咕噥道，“拿著蠟燭，想去哪里就去哪里。我立刻去找你。可別到院子里去；那些狗沒有上鎖鏈；也不要上堂屋里去——朱諾守衛在那里，還有——不，你只能在樓梯和過道里閑逛。你快去吧！我兩分鐘就來！”

我聽從他的話，退出了那個小屋，不知道這一個個狹窄的廳道通向哪里，站在那里一動不動，奇怪的是，無意中看到了房東做的一項迷信活動，看來他不過是表面理智。他爬上床，然后使勁地扭開窗戶，一邊用力拉窗，一邊控制不住淚如泉涌。“進來！進來啊！”他哭泣道。“凱茜，請進來。噢，請——再來一次！噢！我的心肝寶貝！凱瑟琳，就聽我這一次吧，最后一次！”鬼就是鬼，反復無常，捉摸不定，不露任何蹤跡；只有風雪狂舞灌進來，甚至刮到了我站立的地方，刮滅了蠟燭。

這番胡言亂語帶有極大的痛苦和悲哀；出于憐憫，我就寬恕了這種愚行，抽身走開，既對聽到這一切感到生氣，又對自己敘述荒唐的噩夢感到煩惱，因為正是我的夢產生了那種痛苦，盡管我不明白其中的原因。我小心翼翼地下樓，來到后廚，只見那里有一星微火，聚攏成一束火苗，使我又點燃了蠟燭。這里沒有任何動靜，僅有一只棕底花紋的灰貓；灰貓從灰堆里爬出來，乖戾地喵了一聲，算是向我致意。

爐邊擺著兩條圓弧形長凳，差不多把爐子圍了起來；我在一條長凳上躺下來。老花貓跳上了另一條長凳。我們倆都打起了盹，隨后有人闖進了我們休息的地方。那么，來人就是約瑟夫，他通過房頂的活門放下一個木梯——我想，這是登上閣樓的通道。他向我已經在爐柵間撥亮的那尾小火苗惡狠狠地瞥了一眼，把那只貓從長凳上橫掃下來，自己坐在了那個空位上，開始動手裝滿一支三寸長的煙斗。我來到他的密室，顯然被看成是一種厚顏無恥的行為，不屑一說。他默默地抽著煙斗，交叉雙臂，不停地吞云吐霧。我讓他不受打攪地享受，吐出最后一個煙圈后，深深地嘆了口氣，站起來，像來時那樣神情嚴肅地離開了。

接下來，一個更輕快的腳步走了進來；于是，我張嘴要說“早上好”，但又合上了，沒有問候成，原來是哈里頓·恩肖在屋角找一把鏟子或鐵鍬去鏟雪，嘴里低聲祈禱著，每碰到一件東西，都要罵聲不絕。他瞥了一眼長凳后面，張大了鼻孔，認為對我就像對我的伙伴貓一樣不用多少客套。從他準備的情況來看，我猜測他允許我走了。因此，我離開硬梆梆的長凳，移動腳步跟他走。他注意到了這一點，就用鏟尖戳了戳一扇里門，口齒不清地宣布說，我要是想改變地方，就必須朝那里走。

那扇門通向堂屋，女人們已經在那里忙活起來了；齊拉拽著一個大風箱，把火苗吹上了煙囪；希斯克利夫太太跪在壁爐邊，借助火光在看一本書。她把一只手遮在眼前，擋住火紅的熱量，好像是在專心致志地看書，只有罵仆人濺了她一身火星，要么是不時地推開一只把鼻子湊到她臉上的狗時，才會停止看書。我吃驚地看到希斯克利夫也在那里。他站在火爐邊，背對著我，剛對可憐的齊拉發完一頓脾氣；齊拉不時地中斷活計，撩起圍裙角，發出一陣憤怒的聲音。

“還有你，你這個無用的——”我進去時，他正轉向他的兒媳婦叫嚷，使用的都是像鴨子或綿羊這樣無傷大雅的字眼，但通常用破折號代替，“你又在那里玩無聊的把戲了！其余的人都自己掙飯吃——你卻要靠我的施舍生活！扔掉你的破爛，找點事兒做吧。你總在我的眼前煩我，我要跟你算賬——你聽到了嗎，該死的賤貨？”

“我會扔掉破爛的，因為就是我不愿扔掉，你也會強迫我的，”少婦一邊回答，一邊合上書，扔在椅子上，“不過，哪怕你罵掉了舌頭，我什么也不會干的，除非我愿意干！”

希斯克利夫抬起一只手，說話人顯然熟悉它的重量，就跳到了更安全的地方。我不想觀看貓狗打架，就快步上前，好像迫不及待地想到爐邊烤火，完全不知道打斷了這場爭吵。各自都有足夠的禮貌，沒有敵對下去。為了不受誘惑，希斯克利夫把兩只拳頭放進了口袋；希斯克利夫太太噘起嘴，走到了遠處的一個座位邊；她在那里說話算話，在我逗留的剩余時間里，猶如雕像一般。那沒有多久。我謝絕跟他們一起吃早飯。等第一縷晨曦一出現，我就趁機逃到了自由的空氣當中，外面的空氣現在清亮、寧靜，像觸摸不到的冰一樣寒冷。

我還沒有走到花園盡頭，房東就喊住了我，要主動陪我穿過荒野。幸好他陪我，因為整個山脊像一個巨浪似的白色海洋；外表的高低起伏并不表明地面也高低起伏，至少許多坑洼都被填平了；還有所有的山崗、所有采石場的廢物，都從我昨天走過時腦海里留下的圖像中抹去了。我注意到在路的一邊每隔六七碼遠就豎著一塊石碑，一直延續到荒野的盡頭。這些石碑都豎立著，涂上了石灰，是天黑時作為路標，同時也是為了防止遇上今天這樣的大雪，把路邊深深的沼澤和堅實的小路搞得混淆不清。但是，除了到處露出的黑點之外，所有石碑的痕跡都不見了。我認為自己準確無誤地順著蜿蜒的大路前進，同伴卻必須常常告誡我向左向右轉。

我們一路沒有說多少話，隨后他在畫眉莊園的入口處停下說，我到了這里就不會走錯了。我們的告別只限于匆匆鞠躬，然后我憑著自己的能耐繼續前行，因為門房那里還沒有人居住。大門口到田莊有兩英里的距離；我想，是在林間迷路，陷入齊脖深的雪坑，我就走成了四英里。這種困境只有親身經歷的人才能體會到。不管我一路怎么亂跑，時鐘敲響十二點時，我走進了家門。從呼嘯山莊到這里的通常路線計算，正好是每小時一英里。

女管家和手下們都跑過來迎接我，都嚷嚷著說，他們都以為我完全沒有救了。大家都猜想我昨晚一命嗚呼了；他們都在想著怎么去著手尋找我的尸體。我吩咐他們說，既然他們看到我回來了，就請安靜；隨后，我凍得心都木了，就拖著身體爬上樓，換上干爽的衣服后，來來回回走了三四十分鐘，以便恢復體溫。我來到書房，虛弱得像一只小貓，過于虛弱，幾乎連傭人為我恢復體力準備的暖烘烘的爐火和熱騰騰的咖啡都無力享受了。