Cover for Wuthering Heights

Project Gutenberg #768

Wuthering Heights

Emily Brontë

1847

Emily Bronte's moorland Gothic classic, prepared chapter by chapter from Project Gutenberg plaintext.

Project Gutenberg #768 Public domain in the United States Cover source Local typographic cover created for MojiMori from public-domain source metadata

Section 12 of 34 Page 3 of 3

CHAPTER XII

81 words at B2 or above
A1 A2 B1 B2 C1 C2 C2+
highlighted at or above your level

AI Summary

Chapter 12 — CHAPTER XII Central question Why does Catherine choose Edgar? Main argument Catherine’s choice of Edgar is not a simple rejection of Heathcliff; it is a recognition of the social order that will...

markdown
pretty night it was!) she and Heathcliff were walking in the plantation at the back of your house above two hours; and he pressed her not to go in again, but just mount his horse and away with him! My informant said she could only put him off by pledging her word of honour to be prepared on their first meeting after that: when it was to be he didn’t hear; but you urge Mr. Linton to look sharp!” This news filled me with fresh fears; I outstripped Kenneth, and ran most of the way back. The little dog was yelping in the garden yet. I spared a minute to open the gate for it, but instead of going to the house door, it coursed up and down snuffing the grass, and would have escaped to the road, had I not seized it and conveyed it in with me. On ascending to Isabella’s room, my suspicions were confirmed: it was empty. Had I been a few hours sooner Mrs. Linton’s illness might have arrested her rash step. But what could be done now? There was a bare possibility of overtaking them if pursued instantly. _I_ could not pursue them, however; and I dared not rouse the family, and fill the place with confusion; still less unfold the business to my master, absorbed as he was in his present calamity, and having no heart to spare for a second grief! I saw nothing for it but to hold my tongue, and suffer matters to take their course; and Kenneth being arrived, I went with a badly composed countenance to announce him. Catherine lay in a troubled sleep: her husband had succeeded in soothing the excess of frenzy; he now hung over her pillow, watching every shade and every change of her painfully expressive features. The doctor, on examining the case for himself, spoke hopefully to him of its having a favourable termination, if we could only preserve around her perfect and constant tranquillity. To me, he signified the threatening danger was not so much death, as permanent alienation of intellect. I did not close my eyes that night, nor did Mr. Linton: indeed, we never went to bed; and the servants were all up long before the usual hour, moving through the house with stealthy tread, and exchanging whispers as they encountered each other in their vocations. Every one was active but Miss Isabella; and they began to remark how sound she slept: her brother, too, asked if she had risen, and seemed impatient for her presence, and hurt that she showed so little anxiety for her sister-in-law. I trembled lest he should send me to call her; but I was spared the pain of being the first proclaimant of her flight. One of the maids, a thoughtless girl, who had been on an early errand to Gimmerton, came panting upstairs, open-mouthed, and dashed into the chamber, crying: “Oh, dear, dear! What mun we have next? Master, master, our young lady—” “Hold your noise!” cried I hastily, enraged at her clamorous manner. “Speak lower, Mary—What is the matter?” said Mr. Linton. “What ails your young lady?” “She’s gone, she’s gone! Yon’ Heathcliff’s run off wiher!” gasped the girl. “That is not true!” exclaimed Linton, rising in agitation. “It cannot be: how has the idea entered your head? Ellen Dean, go and seek her. It is incredible: it cannot be.” As he spoke he took the servant to the door, and then repeated his demand to know her reasons for such an assertion. “Why, I met on the road a lad that fetches milk here,” she stammered, “and he asked whether we weren’t in trouble at the Grange. I thought he meant for missis’s sickness, so I answered, yes. Then says he, ‘There’s somebody gone afterem, I guess?’ I stared. He saw I knew nought about it, and he told how a gentleman and lady had stopped to have a horse’s shoe fastened at a blacksmith’s shop, two miles out of Gimmerton, not very long after midnight! and how the blacksmith’s lass had got up to spy who they were: she knew them both directly. And she noticed the man—Heathcliff it was, she felt certain: nob’dy could mistake him, besidesput a sovereign in her father’s hand for payment. The lady had a cloak about her face; but having desired a sup of water, while she drank it fell back, and she saw her very plain. Heathcliff held both bridles as they rode on, and they set their faces from the village, and went as fast as the rough roads would let them. The lass said nothing to her father, but she told it all over Gimmerton this morning.” I ran and peeped, for form’s sake, into Isabella’s room; confirming, when I returned, the servant’s statement. Mr. Linton had resumed his seat by the bed; on my re-entrance, he raised his eyes, read the meaning of my blank aspect, and dropped them without giving an order, or uttering a word. “Are we to try any measures for overtaking and bringing her back,” I inquired. “How should we do?” “She went of her own accord,” answered the master; “she had a right to go if she pleased. Trouble me no more about her. Hereafter she is only my sister in name: not because I disown her, but because she has disowned me.” And that was all he said on the subject: he did not make a single inquiry further, or mention her in any way, except directing me to send what property she had in the house to her fresh home, wherever it was, when I knew it.

Send feedback

Optional — only if you'd like a reply.