Wuthering Heights

resignation, waiting his death. Very young he looked: though his actual age was thirty-nine; one would have called him ten years younger, at least. He thought of Catherine for he murmured her name. I touched his hand, and spoke.
    »Catherine is coming, dear master!« I whispered, »she is alive, and well; and will be here I hope to-night.«
    I trembled at the first effects of this intelligence: he half rose up, looked eagerly round the apartment, and then sunk back in a swoon.
    As soon as he recovered, I related our compulsory visit, and detention at the Heights: I said Heathcliff forced me to go in, which was not quite true; I uttered as little as possible against Linton; nor did I describe all his father's brutal conduct – my intentions being to add no bitterness, if I could help it, to his already overflowing cup.
    He divined that one of his enemy's purposes was to secure the personal property, as well as the estate to his son, or rather himself; yet why he did not wait till his decease, was a puzzle to my master; because ignorant how nearly he, and his nephew would quit the world together.
    However, he felt that his will had better be altered – instead of leaving Catherine's fortune at her own disposal, he determined to put it in the hands of trustees, for her use during life; and for her children, if she had any, after her. By that means, it could not fall to Mr. Heathcliff should Linton die.
    Having received his orders, I despatched a man to fetch the attorney, and four more, provided with serviceable weapons, to demand my young lady of her jailer. Both parties were delayed very late. The single servant returned first.
    He said Mr. Green, the lawyer, was out when he arrived at his house, and he had to wait two hours for his re-entrance: and then Mr. Green told him he had a little business in the village, that must be done, but he would be at Thrushcross Grange before morning.
    The four men came back unaccompanied, also. They brought word that Catherine was ill, too ill to quit her room, and Heathcliff would not suffer them to see her.
    I scolded the stupid fellows well, for listening to that tale, which I would not carry to my master; resolving to take a whole bevy up to the Heights, at daylight, and storm it, literally, unless the prisoner were quietly surrendered to us.
    Her father
shall
see her, I vowed, and vowed again, if that devil be killed on his own doorstones, in trying to prevent it!
    Happily, I was spared the journey, and the trouble.
    I had gone downstairs at three o'clock to fetch a jug of water; and was passing through the hall, with it in my hand, when a sharp knock, at the front door, made me jump.
    »Oh! it is Green – I said recollecting myself – only Green,« and I went on, intending to send someone else to open it; but the knock was repeated, not loud, and still importunately.
    I put the jug on the bannister, and hastened to admit him, myself.
    The harvest moon shone clear outside. It was not the attorney. My own sweet little mistress sprung on my neck sobbing,
    »Ellen! Ellen! is papa alive?«
    »Yes!« I cried, »yes, my angel, he is! God be thanked, you are safe with us again!«
    She wanted to run, breathless as she was, up-stairs to Mr. Linton's room; but I compelled her to sit down on a chair, and made her drink, and washed her paleface, chafing it into a faint colour with my apron. Then I said I must go first, and tell of her arrival; imploring her to say, she should be happy, with young Heathcliff. She stared, but soon comprehended why I counselled her to utter the falsehood, she assured me she would not complain.
    I couldn't abide to be present at their meeting. I stood outside the chamber-door, a quarter of an hour, and hardly ventured near the bed, then.
    All was composed, however; Catherine's despair was as silent as her father's joy. She supported him calmly, in appearance; and he fixed on her features his raised eyes that seemed dilating with ecstasy.
    He died blissfully, Mr. Lockwood; he died so, kissing her cheek, he murmured,
    »I am going to her, and you darling child shall come to us;« and never stirred or spoke again, but continued that rapt, radiant gaze, till his pulse imperceptibly stopped, and his soul departed. None could have noticed the exact minute of his death, it was so entirely without a struggle.
    Whether Catherine had spent her tears, or whether the grief were too weighty to let them flow, she sat there dry-eyed till the sun rose – she sat till