Wuthering Heights. Эмили Бронте
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Название: Wuthering Heights
Автор: Эмили Бронте
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Классическая проза
isbn: 9780007373451
isbn:
‘What ails you, Cathy?’ he was saying when I entered. ‘You look as dismal as a drowned whelp – Why are you so damp and pale, child?’
‘I’ve been wet,’ she answered reluctantly, ‘and I’m cold, that’s all.’
‘Oh, she is naughty!’ I cried, perceiving the master to be tolerably sober; ‘She got steeped in the shower of yesterday evening, and there she has sat, the night through, and I couldn’t prevail on her to stir.’
Mr Earnshaw stared at us in surprise. ‘The night through,’ he repeated. ‘What kept her up, not fear of the thunder, surely? That was over, hours since.’
Neither of us wished to mention Heathcliff’s absence, as long as we could conceal it; so, I replied, I didn’t know how she took it into her head to sit up; and she said nothing.
The morning was fresh and cool; I threw back the lattice, and presently the room filled with sweet scents from the garden: but Catherine called peevishly to me.
‘Ellen, shut the window. I’m starving!’ And her teeth chattered as she shrunk closer to the almost extinguished embers.
‘She’s ill –’ said Hindley, taking her wrist, ‘I suppose that’s the reason she would not go to bed – Damn it! I don’t want to be troubled with more sickness here – What took you into the rain?’
‘Running after t’lads, as usuald!’ croaked Joseph, catching an opportunity, from our hesitation, to thrust in his evil tongue.
‘If Aw wur yah, maister, Aw’d just slam t’boards i’ their faces all on ‘em, gentle and simple! Never a day ut yah’re off, but yon cat uh Linton comes sneaking hither – and Miss Nelly, shoo’s a fine lass! shoo sits watching for ye i’ t’kitchen; and as yah’re in at one door, he’s aht at t’other – Und, then, wer grand lady goes a coorting uf hor side! It’s bonny behaviour, lurking amang t’fields, after twelve ut’ night, wi’ that fahl, flaysome divil uf a gipsy, Heathcliff! They think Aw’m blind; but Aw’m noan, nowt ut t’ soart! Aw seed young Linton, boath coming and going, and Aw seed yah’ (directing his discourse to me), ‘yah gooid fur nowt, slattenly witch! nip up und bolt intuh th’ hahs, t’ minute yah heard t’ maister’s horse fit clatter up t’ road.’
‘Silence, eavesdropper!’ cried Catherine, ‘None of your insolence, before me! Edgar Linton came yesterday, by chance, Hindley: and it was I who told him to be off: because I knew you would not like to have met him as you were.’
‘You lie, Cathy, no doubt,’ answered her brother, ‘and you are a confounded simpleton! But, never mind Linton, at present – Tell me, were you not with Heathcliff last night? Speak the truth, now. You need not be afraid of harming him – Though I hate him as much as ever, he did me a good turn, a short time since, that will make my conscience tender of breaking his neck. To prevent it, I shall send him about his business, this very morning; and after he’s gone, I’d advise you all to look sharp, I shall only have the more humour for you!’
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