Chapter18, Part3
‘How long am I to wait?' I continued, disregarding the woman's interference. ‘It will be dark in ten minutes. Where is the pony, Miss Cathy? And where is Phoenix? I shall leave you, unless you be quick; so please yourself.' ‘The pony is in the yard,' she replied, ‘and Phoenix is shut in there. He's bitten—and so is Charlie. I was going to tell you all about it; but you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve to hear.' I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceiving that the people of the house took her part, she commenced capering round the room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over and under and behind the furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me to pursue. Hareton and the woman laughed, and she joined them, and waxed more impertinent still; till I cried, in great irritation,—‘Well, Miss Cathy, if you were aware whose house this is you'd be glad enough to get out.' ‘It's your father's, isn't it?' said she, turning to Hareton.
‘Nay,' he replied, looking down, and blushing bashfully. He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they were just his own.
‘Whose then—your master's?' she asked.
He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, and turned away.
‘Who is his master?' continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me. ‘He talked about “our house,” and “our folk.” I thought he had been the owner's son. And he never said Miss: he should have done, shouldn't he, if he's a servant?' Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech. I silently shook my questioner, and at last succeeded in equipping her for departure.
‘Now, get my horse,' she said, addressing her unknown kinsman as she would one of the stable-boys at the Grange. ‘And you may come with me. I want to see where the goblin-hunter rises in the marsh, and to hear about the fairishes, as you call them: but make haste! What's the matter? Get my horse, I say.' ‘I'll see thee damned before I be thy servant!' growled the lad.
‘You'll see me what!' asked Catherine in surprise.
‘Damned—thou saucy witch!' he replied.
‘There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company,' I interposed. ‘Nice words to be used to a young lady! Pray don't begin to dispute with him. Come, let us seek for Minny ourselves, and begone.' ‘But, Ellen,' cried she, staring fixed in astonishment, ‘how dare he speak so to me? Mustn't he be made to do as I ask him? You wicked creature, I shall tell papa what you said.—Now, then!' Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears sprang into her eyes with indignation. ‘You bring the pony,' she exclaimed, turning to the woman, ‘and let my dog free this moment!' ‘Softly, Miss,' answered she addressed; ‘you'll lose nothing by being civil. Though Mr. Hareton, there, be not the master's son, he's your cousin: and I was never hired to serve you.' ‘He my cousin!' cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh.
‘Yes, indeed,' responded her reprover. ‘Oh, Ellen! don't let them say such things,' she pursued in great trouble. ‘Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousin is a gentleman's son. That my—' she stopped, and wept outright; upset at the bare notion of relationship with such a clown. ‘Hush, hush!' I whispered; ‘people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.' ‘He's not—he's not my cousin, Ellen!' she went on, gathering fresh grief from reflection, and flinging herself into my arms for refuge from the idea.
I was much vexed at her and the servant for their mutual revelations; having no doubt of Linton's approaching arrival, communicated by the former, being reported to Mr. Heathcliff; and feeling as confident that Catherine's first thought on her father's return would be to seek an explanation of the latter's assertion concerning her rude-bred kindred. Hareton, recovering from his disgust at being taken for a servant, seemed moved by her distress; and, having fetched the pony round to the door, he took, to propitiate her, a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from the kennel, and putting it into her hand, bid her whist! for he meant nought. Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with a glance of awe and horror, then burst forth anew.
