CHAPTER XXVI
Summer was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded his assent1 to their entreaties2, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride to join her cousin. It was a close, sultry day: devoid3 of sunshine, but with a sky too dappled and hazy4 to threaten rain: and our place of meeting had been fixed5 at the guide-stone, by the cross-roads. On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, despatched as a messenger, told us that,—“Maister Linton wer just o’ this side th’ Heights: and he’d be mitch obleeged to us to gang on a bit further.”
“Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle,” I observed: “he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are off at once.”
“Well, we’ll turn our horses’ heads round when we reach him,” answered my companion; “our excursion shall lie towards home.”
But when we reached him, and that was scarcely a quarter of a mile from his own door, we found he had no horse; and we were forced to dismount, and leave ours to graze. He lay on the heath, awaiting our approach, and did not rise till we came within a few yards. Then he walked so feebly, and looked so pale, that I immediately exclaimed,—“Why, Master Heathcliff, you are not fit for enjoying a ramble6 this morning. How ill you do look!”
Catherine surveyed him with grief and astonishment7: she changed the ejaculation of joy on her lips to one of alarm; and the congratulation on their long-postponed meeting to an anxious inquiry8, whether he were worse than usual?
“No—better—better!” he panted, trembling, and retaining her hand as if he needed its support, while his large blue eyes wandered timidly over her; the hollowness round them transforming to haggard wildness the languid expression they once possessed9.
“But you have been worse,” persisted his cousin; “worse than when I saw you last; you are thinner, and—”
“I’m tired,” he interrupted, hurriedly. “It is too hot for walking, let us rest here. And, in the morning, I often feel sick—papa says I grow so fast.”
Badly satisfied, Cathy sat down, and he reclined beside her.
“This is something like your paradise,” said she, making an effort at cheerfulness. “You recollect10 the two days we agreed to spend in the place and way each thought pleasantest? This is nearly yours, only there are clouds; but then they are so soft and mellow11: it is nicer than sunshine. Next week, if you can, we’ll ride down to the Grange Park, and try mine.”
Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of; and he had evidently great difficulty in sustaining any kind of conversation. His lack of interest in the subjects she started, and his equal incapacity to contribute to her entertainment, were so obvious that she could not conceal12 her disappointment. An indefinite alteration13 had come over his whole person and manner. The pettishness14 that might be caressed15 into fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy16; there was less of the peevish17 temper of a child which frets18 and teases on purpose to be soothed19, and more of the self-absorbed moroseness20 of a confirmed invalid21, repelling22 consolation23, and ready to regard the good-humoured mirth of others as an insult. Catherine perceived, as well as I did, that he held it rather a punishment, than a gratification, to endure our company; and she made no scruple24 of proposing, presently, to depart. That proposal, unexpectedly, roused Linton from his lethargy, and threw him into a strange state of agitation25. He glanced fearfully towards the Heights, begging she would remain another half-hour, at least.
“But I think,” said Cathy, “you’d be more comfortable at home than sitting here; and I cannot amuse you to-day, I see, by my tales, and songs, and chatter26: you have grown wiser than I, in these six months; you have little taste for my diversions now: or else, if I could amuse you, I’d willingly stay.”
“Stay to rest yourself,” he replied. “And, Catherine, don’t think or say that I’m very unwell: it is the heavy weather and heat that make me dull; and I walked about, before you came, a great deal for me. Tell uncle I’m in tolerable health, will you?”
“I’ll tell him that you say so, Linton. I couldn’t affirm that you are,” observed my young lady, wondering at his pertinacious27 assertion of what was evidently an untruth.
“And be here again next Thursday,” continued he, shunning28 her puzzled gaze. “And give him my thanks for permitting you to come—my best thanks, Catherine. And—and, if you did meet my father, and he asked you about me, don’t lead him to suppose that I’ve been extremely silent and stupid: don’t look sad and downcast, as you are doing—he’ll be angry.”
“I care nothing for his anger,” exclaimed Cathy, imagining she would be its object.
“But I do,” said her cousin, shuddering29. “Don’t provoke him against me, Catherine, for he is very hard.”
“Is he severe to you, Master Heathcliff?” I inquired. “Has he grown weary of indulgence, and passed from passive to active hatred30?”
Linton looked at me, but did not answer; and, after keeping her seat by his side another ten minutes, during which his head fell drowsily31 on his breast, and he uttered nothing except suppressed moans of exhaustion32 or pain, Cathy began to seek solace33 in looking for bilberries, and sharing the produce of her researches with me: she did not offer them to him, for she saw further notice would only weary and annoy.
“Is it half-an-hour now, Ellen?” she whispered in my ear, at last. “I can’t tell why we should stay. He’s asleep, and papa will be wanting us back.”
“Well, we must not leave him asleep,” I answered; “wait till he wakes, and be patient. You were mighty34 eager to set off, but your longing35 to see poor Linton has soon evaporated!”
“Why did he wish to see me?” returned Catherine. “In his crossest humours, formerly36, I liked him better than I do in his present curious mood. It’s just as if it were a task he was compelled to perform—this interview—for fear his father should scold him. But I’m hardly going to come to give Mr. Heathcliff pleasure; whatever reason he may have for ordering Linton to undergo this penance37. And, though I’m glad he’s better in health, I’m sorry he’s so much less pleasant, and so much less affectionate to me.”
“You think he is better in health, then?” I said.
“Yes,” she answered; “because he always made such a great deal of his sufferings, you know. He is not tolerably well, as he told me to tell papa; but he’s better, very likely.”
“There you differ with me, Miss Cathy,” I remarked; “I should conjecture38 him to be far worse.”
Linton here started from his slumber39 in bewildered terror, and asked if any one had called his name.
“No,” said Catherine; “unless in dreams. I cannot conceive how you manage to doze40 out of doors, in the morning.”
“I thought I heard my father,” he gasped41, glancing up to the frowning nab above us. “You are sure nobody spoke42?”
“Quite sure,” replied his cousin. “Only Ellen and I were disputing concerning your health. Are you truly stronger, Linton, than when we separated in winter? If you be, I’m certain one thing is not stronger—your regard for me: speak,—are you?”
The tears gushed43 from Linton’s eyes as he answered, “Yes, yes, I am!” And, still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze wandered up and down to detect its owner.
Cathy rose. “For to-day we must part,” she said. “And I won’t conceal that I have been sadly disappointed with our meeting; though I’ll mention it to nobody but you: not that I stand in awe44 of Mr. Heathcliff.”
“Hush45,” murmured Linton; “for God’s sake, hush! He’s coming.” And he clung to Catherine’s arm, striving to detain her; but at that announcement she hastily disengaged herself, and whistled to Minny, who obeyed her like a dog.
“I’ll be here next Thursday,” she cried, springing to the saddle. “Good-bye. Quick, Ellen!”
And so we left him, scarcely conscious of our departure, so absorbed was he in anticipating his father’s approach.
Before we reached home, Catherine’s displeasure softened46 into a perplexed47 sensation of pity and regret, largely blended with vague, uneasy doubts about Linton’s actual circumstances, physical and social: in which I partook, though I counselled her not to say much; for a second journey would make us better judges. My master requested an account of our ongoings. His nephew’s offering of thanks was duly delivered, Miss Cathy gently touching on the rest: I also threw little light on his inquiries48, for I hardly knew what to hide and what to reveal.
1 assent [əˈsent] 第9级 | |
vi.批准,认可;n.批准,认可 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 entreaties [enˈtri:ti:z] 第11级 | |
n.恳求,乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 devoid [dɪˈvɔɪd] 第9级 | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 hazy [ˈheɪzi] 第10级 | |
adj.有薄雾的,朦胧的;不肯定的,模糊的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 fixed [fɪkst] 第8级 | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 ramble [ˈræmbl] 第9级 | |
vi.漫步,漫谈,漫游;vt.漫步于;n.漫步,闲谈,蔓延 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 astonishment [əˈstɒnɪʃmənt] 第8级 | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 inquiry [ɪn'kwaɪərɪ] 第7级 | |
n.打听,询问,调查,查问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 possessed [pəˈzest] 第12级 | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 recollect [ˌrekəˈlekt] 第7级 | |
v.回忆,想起,记起,忆起,记得 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 mellow [ˈmeləʊ] 第10级 | |
adj.柔和的;熟透的;v.变柔和;(使)成熟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 conceal [kənˈsi:l] 第7级 | |
vt.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 alteration [ˌɔ:ltəˈreɪʃn] 第9级 | |
n.变更,改变;蚀变 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 pettishness [] 第12级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 caressed [kəˈrest] 第7级 | |
爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 apathy [ˈæpəθi] 第9级 | |
n.漠不关心,无动于衷;冷淡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 peevish [ˈpi:vɪʃ] 第12级 | |
adj.易怒的,坏脾气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 frets [frets] 第9级 | |
基质间片; 品丝(吉他等指板上定音的)( fret的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 soothed [su:ðd] 第7级 | |
v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 moroseness [] 第11级 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 invalid [ɪnˈvælɪd] 第7级 | |
n.病人,伤残人;adj.有病的,伤残的;无效的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 repelling [riˈpelɪŋ] 第7级 | |
v.击退( repel的现在分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 consolation [ˌkɒnsəˈleɪʃn] 第10级 | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 scruple [ˈskru:pl] 第9级 | |
n./v.顾忌,迟疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 agitation [ˌædʒɪˈteɪʃn] 第9级 | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 chatter [ˈtʃætə(r)] 第7级 | |
vi./n.喋喋不休;短促尖叫;(牙齿)打战 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 pertinacious [ˌpɜ:tɪˈneɪʃəs] 第11级 | |
adj.顽固的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 shunning [ʃʌnɪŋ] 第8级 | |
v.避开,回避,避免( shun的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 shuddering ['ʃʌdərɪŋ] 第8级 | |
v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 );发抖;(机器、车辆等)突然震动;颤动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 hatred [ˈheɪtrɪd] 第7级 | |
n.憎恶,憎恨,仇恨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 drowsily ['draʊzɪlɪ] 第10级 | |
adv.睡地,懒洋洋地,昏昏欲睡地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 exhaustion [ɪgˈzɔ:stʃən] 第8级 | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 solace [ˈsɒləs] 第9级 | |
n.安慰;vt.使快乐;安慰(物),缓和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 mighty [ˈmaɪti] 第7级 | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 longing [ˈlɒŋɪŋ] 第8级 | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 formerly [ˈfɔ:məli] 第8级 | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 penance [ˈpenəns] 第12级 | |
n.(赎罪的)惩罪 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 conjecture [kənˈdʒektʃə(r)] 第9级 | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 slumber [ˈslʌmbə(r)] 第9级 | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 doze [dəʊz] 第8级 | |
vi. 打瞌睡;假寐 vt. 打瞌睡度过 n. 瞌睡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 gasped [ɡɑ:spt] 第7级 | |
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 spoke [spəʊk] 第11级 | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 gushed [ɡʌʃt] 第7级 | |
v.喷,涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 );滔滔不绝地说话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 awe [ɔ:] 第7级 | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 hush [hʌʃ] 第8级 | |
int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 softened ['sɒfənd] 第7级 | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|