Wuthering Heights

drinking at a point below irrationality, and had neither stirred, nor spoken during two or three hours. There was no sound through the house, but the moaning wind which shook the windows every now and then: the faint crackling of the coals; and the click of my snuffers as I removed at intervals the long wick of the candle. Hareton and Joseph were probably fast asleep in bed. It was very, very sad, and while I read, I sighed, for it seemed as if all joy had vanished from the world, never to be restored.
    The doleful silence was broken, at length, by the sound of the kitchen latch – Heathcliff had returned from his watch earlier than usual, owing, I suppose, to the sudden storm.
    That entrance was fastened; and we heard him coming round to get in by the other. I rose with an irrepressible expression of what I felt on my lips, which induced my companion, who had been staring towards the door, to turn and look at me.
    ›I'll keep him out five minutes,‹ he exclaimed. ›You won't object?‹
    ›No, you may keep him out the whole night, for me,‹ I answered. ›Do! put the key in the lock, and draw the bolts.‹
    Earnshaw accomplished this, ere his guest reached the front; he then came, and brought his chair to the other side of my table; leaning over it, and searching in my eyes, a sympathy with the burning hate that gleamed from his: as he both looked, and felt like an assassin, he couldn't exactly find that; but he discovered enough to encourage him to speak.
    ›You, and I,‹ he said, ›have each a great debt to settle with the man out yonder! If we were neither of us cowards, we might combine to discharge it. Are you as soft as your brother? Are you willing to endure to the last, and not once attempt a repayment?‹
    ›I'm weary of enduring now;‹ I replied, ›and I'd be glad of a retaliation that wouldn't recoil on myself; but treachery, and violence, are spears pointed at both ends – they wound those who resort to them, worse than their enemies.‹
    ›Treachery and violence are a just return for treachery and violence!‹ cried Hindley. ›Mrs. Heathcliff, I'll ask you to do nothing, but sit still, and be dumb – Tell me now, can you? I'm sure you would have as much pleasure as I, in witnessing the conclusion of the fiend's existence, he'll be
your
death unless you overreach him – and he'll be
my
ruin – Damn the hellish villain! He knocks at the door, as if he were master here, already! Promise to hold your tongue, and before that clock strikes – it wants three minutes of one – you're a free woman!‹
    He took the implements which I described to you in my letter from his breast, and would have turned down the candle – I snatched it away, however, and seized his arm.
    ›I'll not hold my tongue!‹ I said, ›You mustn't touch him ... Let the door remain shut and be quiet!‹
    ›No! I've formed my resolution, and by God, I'll execute it!‹ cried the desperate being, ›I'll do you a kindness, in spite of yourself, and Hareton justice! And you needn't trouble your head to screen me, Catherine is gone – Nobody alive would regret me, or be ashamed though I cut my throat, this minute – and it's time to make an end!‹
    I might as well have struggled with a bear; or reasoned with a lunatic. The only resource left me was to run to a lattice, and warn his intended victim of the fate which awaited him.
    ›You'd better seek shelter somewhere else to-night!‹ I exclaimed in a rather triumphant tone. ›Mr. Earnshaw has a mind to shoot you, if you persist in endeavouring to enter.‹
    ›You'd better open the door, you ––‹ he answered, addressing me by some elegant term that I don't care to repeat.
    ›I shall not meddle in the matter,‹ I retorted again. ›Come in, and get shot, if you please! I've done my duty.‹
    With that I shut the window, and returned to my place by the fire; having too small a stock of hypocrisy at my command to pretend any anxiety for the danger that menaced him.
    Earnshaw swore passionately at me; affirming that I loved the villain yet: and calling me all sorts of names for the base spirit I evinced. And I, in my secret heart, (and conscience never reproached me) thought what a blessing it would be for
him,
should Heathcliff put him out of misery: and what a blessing for
me,
should he send Heathcliff to his right abode! As I sat nursing these reflections, the casement behind me, was banged on to the floor by a blow from the latter individual; and his black