Wuthering Heights
Chapter XXXIV
1811 -- I mounted onto my horse and began to leave London. It had been quite pleasant residing in London, but an alteration in the environment of my residence would be enjoyable. The day had become bleak and dreary, as I glanced around the surroundings of the snow-covered moorlands. The appearance of the snow-covered land looked much the same as it did ten years ago, when I first arrived to Thrushcross Grange. Nevertheless, I can still recall the story Nelly told me while I was ill that winter. The dark-skinned gypsy, Heathcliff, who seemed to have a disliking for me when I met him that winter, and the horrible fate of Catherine Linton. It is quite a misfortune for the two to die with hatred in the hearts. Heathcliff, whose love for Catherine was prevented from her brother Hindley's abuse and Catherine's betrayal. He had passed away quite some nine years ago and Catherine died while giving birth to young Catherine. As I journeyed down the long, meandering road, I felt a sudden chill in my bones. Maybe it was the thought of the story Nelly had told me. Or perhaps it was just the blustery wind.
Much time had elapsed as I continued to Thrushcross Grange. At last, I have arrived what seemed like Thrushcross Grange. The sight of the house was prevented from the snow flurries. I had just dismounted from my horse when suddenly; I heard the shout of a young lad.
"Who goes there?" the young lad asked with a heavy English accent.
I turned around and found a young lad watching me from behind a tree.
"I am Lockwood," I began as I looked at him, "and who might you be?"
The young lad came forward to me. He raised his eyebrow, gave me a curious look, and then noticed my horse. He seemed fairly interested in my horse and began to walk around it and then finally came to a stop.
"This is your horse?" he inquired.
"Yes," I answered, "she is mine."
"Does she have a name?"
"Yes, she has a name, but I will not tell you unless you tell me what your name is, young lad," I replied with a considerable smile across my face.
The young lad only gave me a blank stare and then returned to looking at my horse.
"My name is Lawrence," he replied, still gazing at the animal.
"Do you have a second name?"
"Yes, Earnshaw. Now that I have told you my name, you must tell me the name of your horse."
I stared at the lad and pondered for a moment. His name is Lawrence Earnshaw. I kneeled down and studied his face. Of course! The lad is young Catherine and Hareton's son! According to Nelly's story, young Catherine and Hareton were to marry on New Year's Day. This must be their son!
I stood up and young Lawrence still continued to stare at me.
"Are you going to tell me the name of your horse or not?" he demanded.
"Her name is Autumn," I answered quickly.
The lad looked at the horse and addressed it, "Hello Autumn, my name is Lawrence."
My horse stood idly as Lawrence began to pat him.
"What brings you to the moorlands, sir?" he asked, still patting my horse.
"I have come in search of Thrushcross Grange," I replied.
"Thrushcross Grange? I live in Thrushcross Grange."
"Could you lead me the way?" I asked.
He nodded and I took his lead. Lawrence took my horse and put him in the stables, where I stumbled upon Joseph, the old servant who used to serve at Wuthering Heights.
"Ah, Joseph, what a pleasant surprise to see you here at Thrushcross Grange," I greeted.
"Mr. Lockwood is it? 'A gran' o' it ta see thee agin! Wha' brings thee ta Thrushcross Grange?" he questioned in a thick Yorkshire accent.
"I have become weary of London and thought it would be grand to revisit Thrushcross Grange. I had no idea you moved to Thrushcross Grange."
"Aye, afta Mr. 'Eythcliff passed away, 'ae moved ta Thrushcross Grange ta serve Mr 'n Mrs. Earnshaw 'n young Lawrence, 'eear," he answered patting Lawrence's head, "Lawrence, goa 'n fetch um watta 'n barley for Mr. Lockwood's 'orse."
Lawrence simply nodded and wandered off to finish his task. I found this incredibly awkward; Joseph, the servant, making Lawrence do his work for him?
"Joseph, why do you treat the young lad so cruelly?" I asked.
"Cruelly? Ah dooant rightly kna wha' thee are talkin abart," he replied.
"Do not hide your guilt, you should be ashamed of yourself, forcing Lawrence to do your work for you!"
"Forcin 'te young lad ta doa fettle for mee? Oh, ah see wheear thee are gerrin a'," he began, "When 'e wor a young lad, Masta Lawrence 'ed woontad ta 'elp mee aroun' t' stable carin fert 'orses."
"He had actually wanted to help you?"
"Aye, o' course, t' lad seems ta be fairly interested wi t' 'orses," he replied as he began to sweep the hay off from the floor.
"Very well. I am very sorry for accusing you of such falsehood. Please except my apology."
"Oh, ah accept thee apology, it is nowt reale."
Silence took over our conversation, as I watched Joseph sweep the floor.
"How did the folks around here react to Mr. Heathcliff's death?" I asked.
"Eh, not menny fowk knew Mr. 'Eythcliff. Nelly 'ed towd um fowk abart it when shi went off ta t' tarn, bur nowt mooar than 'a'. Na if thee dooant min' ah would li' ta finish sweepin t' floors."
I stood back, so I could not disturb Joseph. I waited for Lawrence to return and then we walked up to the entrance of Thrushcross Grange. Lawrence knocked on the door and we waited in silence. It seemed like ages before somebody opened the door.
"Ah! There you are Master Earnshaw! Your mother and father were very concerned on your well being," exclaimed the woman, "and who might your friend be, Lawrence?"
"Nelly, this is --"
Before young Lawrence could answer her question, I quickly offered my hand, "Mr. Lockwood, it's been quite a time since I have seen you."
Nelly's face seemed to have glowed with happiness as she heartily shook my hand.
"Why, Mr. Lockwood, it has been years since you last returned to Thrushcross Grange. What brings you here?"
"London has become a bore to me and I thought it would be nice to return."
"It is such a pleasure to have you back, Mr. Lockwood, do come in. Lawrence, you must change your clothing, you are awfully wet."
"Yes, Nelly," replied Lawrence, as he walked upstairs.
"Have a seat, sir."
"Thank you, Nelly."
I sat down and gazed at a painted portrait of Linton, the son of Heathcliff and young Catherine's cousin.
"Would you like some tea, Mr. Lockwood?" asked Nelly.
"Some tea would be nice, Nelly, thank you," I replied.
Nelly walked off for my cup of tea and I continued to gaze at the beautifully painted portrait of Linton Heathcliff, the son of Heathcliff. Nelly returned some time later with my tea and noticed me staring at the painting.
"I see, you have noticed Mr. Heathcliff's portrait."
"Yes, I have, who and when was this painted?"
"An artist Mrs. Earshaw had met, painted it for her, after his death. I do believe Mr. Earnshaw was not satisfied with her for doing so."
"Do they get along just fine, though?"
"Oh yes, the mistress has never been happier!"
Young Catherine then stepped in with Hareton, who seemed to have a tired look.
"Dear Nelly, who is this?" asked Catherine.
"Mistress, this is Mr. Lockwood, he was one of your uncle's tenant," informed Nelly.
"Such a pleasant to meet you, Mr. Lockwood."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Earnshaw."
I held my hand out to shake Hareton's hand and smiled brightly, but he only grunted and gave me a weak, grim smile. We stood there for a long time in silence until Catherine spoke of her departure.
"Mr. Lockwood, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Hareton and I have to be over to Wuthering Heights for dinner with the new residents whom have just moved in."
"New residents?" I asked.
"Yes, after Hareton and I were married, Wuthering Heights was deserted for some time, but a short time ago, a young couple has moved in.
"Please do make yourself at home," finished Catherine as she began to walk away, with Hareton, "If you will spend the night here, just inform Nelly, and she'll have the guestroom ready for you."
"I do intend on staying for the night."
"That will be fine," she replied, "And Nelly, do watch Lawrence and do not let him outside, he should already be punished for staying out longer than I told him to stay out."
"Yes, Mrs. Earnshaw," obeyed Nelly.
Catherine and Hareton walked outside over to Wuthering Heights, leaving me in the house alone with Nelly and Lawrence. The house seemed strangely quiet. I became quite uninterested in the Earnshaw's home and wandered off, to find Lawrence.
It took some time to find the lad, but when I did, I found him seated on chair looking out upon the old windowsill in his room. He turned around, surprised of my presence.
"Did Nelly send you up here?"
"No, I came up here myself, as a matter of fact."
He turned away and continued to look intently beyond the moors. I walked towards him and tried to take notice of what he was gazing at.
"May I ask what you are pondering about?" I asked staring out into the starry night.
"Before Mum and Father left for dinner," he started, "Mum told me about you."
"Did she?"
"Yes, she told me how you loved her so."
I stopped and turned my head towards the young lad. How could Catherine have known? I wondered. I do not recollect of telling her my true feelings for her. I grew silent, and young Lawrence became quiet as he remained in his seat, watching me intently.
"Is it really true, Mr. Lockwood, sir? Was Mum really telling the truth?"
He looked at me with his gray-blue eyes. I did not know how to respond. How could Catherine have known? I became stone cold and felt a lump formed in my throat.
"Well, yes, that was no lie your Mum told."
Lawrence did not seem disturbed by the actual truth. He turned away slowly and continued to gaze into the foggy sky. All of a sudden, we heard the neighs of horses. Lawrence looked beyond the moors and spotted an outbreak of fire, blazing on the field.
"The stables!" he shouted as he left.
Lawrence left his room and I followed him, quickly jogging down the stairs. He had almost reached the door, when Nelly stopped him.
"Master Lawrence what are you doing at this hour? It is half past nine!"
"Nelly," I gasped trying to catch my breath, "The stables are on fire!"
"Fire?" Nelly cried out, "We must hurry!"
The three of us left the house. I ran faster than we ever did. I was weary, but I decided to continue. After all, my only source of transportation was in the burning stable. We spotted Joseph, coughing and wheezing running towards us.
"T' 'orses are still I' theear, tha'il 'ae ta sev em Mr. Lockwood," he spat out.
I looked into the blazing fire; I could not risk my life saving my horse from the fire.
"You are mad!" I declared.
"'Ae thee nerrr courage ta sev thy 'orse?" asked Joseph.
Lawrence looked at Nelly and she gave him an encouraging look.
"Good luck, Master Lawrence."
Lawrence nodded and ran inside the fiery blaze.
"Is he mad?" I cried out.
"Nerrr, 'e is not; 'e will doa just abart owt ta sev 'is 'orses," replied Joseph calmly.
I began to panic, "You two must be out of your mind to let him save the horses!" I ran inside after Lawrence, hoping he would be safe.
"Lawrence!" I yelled, "Lawrence?"
I listened carefully, trying to detect Lawrence's voice.
"Over hear, Mr. Lockwood!" cried out Lawrence.
I stumbled my way through trying to avoid the falling timbers of the stables. Gray smoked filled the stables as I struggled in great effort for fresh air. Just as the stable was about to collapse, Lawrence fainted. I looked around, not being able to see much because of the thick gray smoke that was filling the stables. I carried him and found my way to the backdoor. With Lawrence in my arms, I couldn't open the door, so I began to kick the door down. After several attempts, the backdoor finally came down, and to my surprise, all the other horses were found resting under a large oak tree. I laid down Lawrence and sat beside him. I gasped and began to breathe heavily, examining Lawrence for any injuries. He seemed to be fine, so I laid down on the grass and shut my eyes, allowing the gentle wind to blow past me.
When I woke up, I found myself in a bed of Thrushcross Grange's guestrooms. I still felt a bit giddy, but I was able to regain my consciousness. I sat up, and tried to remember the events the night before. My memory of the incident was very vague, but that did not matter. I looked up ahead and saw Nelly, Joseph, Catherine, Hareton, and Lawrence, whom directed their attention all at me.
"'A' wor fair brev o' thee ta sev Masta Lawrence, Mr. Lockwood," complimented Joseph.
"I must agree with Joseph," approved Nelly.
I simply nodded and watched the two leave my room. Hareton then walked over to one side of the bed and said, "I must thank you for rescuing our son from the accident."
I only nodded and turned my head away towards Lawrence, whom stared hardly at the floor. Hareton shook my hand briskly and then left the room. Catherine, whom was sitting on a chair stood up from her seat and walked over to one side of the bed and kissed me lightly on my cheek. I blushed from the embarrassment, while Lawrence watched giggling frantically. I gave her a smile, and she returned a smile back to me. That was a moment I will cherish for a lifetime.
Then she said, "I will leave you two gentlemen alone."
Catherine then prepared to exit my room, allowing Lawrence to speak to me alone.
"Mr. Lockwood," he began, "I wanted to thank you for saving my life; if it was not for you, I would not be sitting in this room right now."
I sighed and laid down on my bed to stare at the painted ceiling.
"Lawrence, you have taught me a very important lesson yesterday."
Lawrence did not seem to quite understand, "Mr. Lockwood, it is you who have taught me a valuable lesson. I was very foolish to put my life in danger to save the horses."
"By the way, how did the stable catch on fire?" I asked.
"A horse kicked one of the lit lanterns and caught the hay on fire," he replied quietly, "All is well; the stable was beginning to stench."
We both laughed and then, Lawrence left my room so I was able to rest. I watched him exit my room and looked outside the window. I smiled for I have finally returned where I really belonged, but I still needed to know how Catherine had known about my feelings for her. That was one question that will probably remain unanswered.