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"
May
she
wake
in
torment
!
"
he
cried
,
with
frightful
vehemence
,
stamping
his
foot
,
and
groaning
in
a
sudden
paroxysm
of
ungovernable
passion
.
"
Why
,
she
's
a
liar
to
the
end
!
Where
is
she
?
Not
there
--
not
in
heaven
--
not
perished
--
where
?
Oh
,
you
said
you
care
nothing
for
my
sufferings
!
And
I
pray
one
prayer
--
I
repeat
it
till
my
tongue
stiffens
--
Catherine
Earnshaw
,
may
you
not
rest
as
long
as
I
am
living
!
You
said
I
killed
you
--
haunt
me
,
then
!
The
murdered
do
haunt
their
murderers
,
I
believe
.
I
know
that
ghosts
have
wandered
on
earth
.
Be
with
me
always
--
take
any
form
--
drive
me
mad
!
only
do
not
leave
me
in
this
abyss
,
where
I
can
not
find
you
!
Oh
,
God
!
it
is
unutterable
!
I
can
not
live
without
my
life
!
I
can
not
live
without
my
soul
!
"
He
dashed
his
head
against
the
knotted
trunk
;
and
,
lifting
up
his
eyes
,
howled
,
not
like
a
man
,
but
like
a
savage
beast
being
goaded
to
death
with
knives
and
spears
.
I
observed
several
splashes
of
blood
about
the
bark
of
the
tree
,
and
his
hand
and
forehead
were
both
stained
;
probably
the
scene
I
witnessed
was
a
repetition
of
others
acted
during
the
night
.
It
hardly
moved
my
compassion
--
it
appalled
me
:
still
,
I
felt
reluctant
to
quit
him
so
.
But
the
moment
he
recollected
himself
enough
to
notice
me
watching
,
he
thundered
a
command
for
me
to
go
,
and
I
obeyed
.
He
was
beyond
my
skill
to
quiet
or
console
!
Mrs.
Linton
's
funeral
was
appointed
to
take
place
on
the
Friday
following
her
decease
;
and
till
then
her
coffin
remained
uncovered
,
and
strewn
with
flowers
and
scented
leaves
,
in
the
great
drawing-room
.
Linton
spent
his
days
and
nights
there
,
a
sleepless
guardian
;
and
--
a
circumstance
concealed
from
all
but
me
--
Heathcliff
spent
his
nights
,
at
least
,
outside
,
equally
a
stranger
to
repose
.
I
held
no
communication
with
him
;
still
,
I
was
conscious
of
his
design
to
enter
,
if
he
could
;
and
on
the
Tuesday
,
a
little
after
dark
,
when
my
master
,
from
sheer
fatigue
,
had
been
compelled
to
retire
a
couple
of
hours
,
I
went
and
opened
one
of
the
windows
;
moved
by
his
perseverance
,
to
give
him
a
chance
of
bestowing
on
the
faded
image
of
his
idol
one
final
adieu
.
He
did
not
omit
to
avail
himself
of
the
opportunity
,
cautiously
and
briefly
:
too
cautiously
to
betray
his
presence
by
the
slightest
noise
Indeed
,
I
should
n't
have
discovered
that
he
had
been
there
,
except
for
the
disarrangement
of
the
drapery
about
the
corpse
's
face
,
and
for
observing
on
the
floor
a
curl
of
light
hair
,
fastened
with
a
silver
thread
;
which
,
on
examination
,
I
ascertained
to
have
been
taken
from
a
locket
hung
round
Catherine
's
neck
.
Heathcliff
had
opened
the
trinket
and
cast
out
its
contents
,
replacing
them
by
a
black
lock
of
his
own
.
I
twisted
the
two
,
and
enclosed
them
together
.
Mr.
Earnshaw
was
,
of
course
,
invited
to
attend
the
remains
of
his
sister
to
the
grave
;
he
sent
no
excuse
,
but
he
never
came
;
so
that
,
besides
her
husband
,
the
mourners
were
wholly
composed
of
tenants
and
servants
.
Isabella
was
not
asked
.
The
place
of
Catherine
's
interment
,
to
the
surprise
of
the
villagers
,
was
neither
in
the
chapel
under
the
carved
monument
of
the
Lintons
,
nor
yet
by
the
tombs
of
her
own
relations
,
outside
.
It
was
dug
on
a
green
slope
in
a
corner
of
the
kirkyard
,
where
the
wall
is
so
low
that
heath
and
bilberry
plants
have
climbed
over
it
from
the
moor
;
and
peat
mould
almost
buries
it
.
Her
husband
lies
in
the
same
spot
now
;
and
they
have
each
a
simple
headstone
above
,
and
a
plain
grey
block
at
their
feet
,
to
mark
the
graves
.
That
Friday
made
the
last
of
our
fine
days
for
a
month
.
In
the
evening
,
the
weather
broke
:
the
wind
shifted
from
south
to
north-east
,
and
brought
rain
first
,
and
then
sleet
and
snow
.
On
the
morrow
one
could
hardly
imagine
that
there
had
been
three
weeks
of
summer
:
the
primroses
and
crocuses
were
hidden
under
wintry
drifts
;
the
larks
were
silent
,
the
young
leaves
of
the
early
trees
smitten
and
blackened
.
And
dreary
,
and
chill
,
and
dismal
,
that
morrow
did
creep
over
!
My
master
kept
his
room
;
I
took
possession
of
the
lonely
parlour
,
converting
it
into
a
nursery
:
and
there
I
was
,
sitting
with
the
moaning
doll
of
a
child
laid
on
my
knee
;
rocking
it
to
and
fro
,
and
watching
,
meanwhile
,
the
still
driving
flakes
build
up
the
uncurtained
window
,
when
the
door
opened
,
and
some
person
entered
,
out
of
breath
and
laughing
!
My
anger
was
greater
than
my
astonishment
for
a
minute
.
I
supposed
it
one
of
the
maids
,
and
I
cried
--
"
Have
done
!
How
dare
you
show
your
giddiness
here
?
What
would
Mr.
Linton
say
if
he
heard
you
?
"
"
Excuse
me
!
"
answered
a
familiar
voice
;
"
but
I
know
Edgar
is
in
bed
,
and
I
can
not
stop
myself
.
"
With
that
the
speaker
came
forward
to
the
fire
,
panting
and
holding
her
hand
to
her
side
.
