r, maister, he's stealing t' lantern!' shouted the ancient, pursuing my retreat. `Hey, Gnasher! Hey, dog! Hey, Wolf, holld him, holld him!'

On opening the little door, two hairy monsters flew at my throat, bearing me down and extinguishing the light; while a mingled guffaw from Heathcliff and Hareton, put the copestone on my rage and humiliation. Fortunately, the beasts seemed more bent on stretching their paws and yawning, and flourishing their tails, than devouring me alive; but they would suffer no resurrection, and I was forced to lie till their malignant master pleased to deliver me: then, hatless and trembling with wrath, I ordered the miscreants to let me out--on their peril to keep me one minute longer-with several incoherent threats of retaliation that, in their indefinite depth of virulency, smacked of King Lear.

The vehemence of my agitation brought on a copious bleeding at the nose, and still Heathcliff laughed, and still I scolded. I don't know what would have concluded the scene, had there not been one person at hand rather more rational than myself, and more benevolent than my entertainer. This was Zillah, the stout housewife; who at length issued forth to inquire into the nature of the uproar. She thought that some of them had been laying violent hands on me; and, not daring to attack her master, she turned her vocal artillery against the young scoundrel.

`Well, Mr Earnshaw,' she cried, `I wonder what you'll have agait next! Are we going to murder folk on our very doorstones? I see this house will never do for me--look at t' poor lad, he's fair choking! Wisht, wisht! you mun'n't go on so. Come in, and I'll cure that; there now, hold ye still.'

With these words she suddenly splashed a pint of icy water down my neck, and pulled me into the kitchen. Mr Heathcliff followed, his accidental merriment expiring quickly in his habitual moroseness.

I was sick exceedingly, and dizzy and faint; and thus compelled perforce to accept lodgings under his roof. He told Zillah to give me a glass of brandy, and then passed on to the inner room; while she condoled with me on my sorry predicament, and having obeyed his orders, whereby I was somewhat revived, ushered me to bed.

昨天下午又冷又有雾。我想就在书房炉边消磨一下午，不想踩着杂草污泥到呼啸山庄了。

但是，吃过午饭（注意——我在十二点与一点钟之间吃午饭，而可以当作这所房子的附属物的管家婆，一位慈祥的太太却不能，或者并不愿理解我请求在五点钟开饭的用意），在我怀着这个懒惰的想法上了楼，迈进屋子的时候，看见一个女仆跪在地上，身边是扫帚和煤斗。她正在用一堆堆煤渣封火，搞起一片弥漫的灰尘。这景象立刻把我赶回头了。我拿了帽子，走了四里路，到达了希刺克厉夫的花园口口，刚好躲过了一场今年初降的鹅毛大雪。

在那荒凉的山顶上，土地由于结了一层黑冰而冻得坚硬，冷空气使我四肢发抖。我弄不开门链，就跳进去，顺着两边种着蔓延的醋栗树丛的石路跑去。我白白地敲了半天门，一直敲到我的手指骨都痛了，狗也狂吠起来。

“倒霉的人家！”我心里直叫，“只为你这样无礼待客，就该一辈子跟人群隔离。我至少还不会在白天把门闩住。我才不管呢——我要进去！”如此决定了。我就抓住门闩，使劲摇它。苦脸的约瑟夫从谷仓的一个圆窗里探出头来。

“你干吗？”他大叫。“主人在牛栏里，你要是找他说话，就从这条路口绕过去。”

“屋里没人开门吗？”我也叫起来。

“除了太太没有别人。你就是闹腾到夜里，她也不会开。”

“为什么？你就不能告诉她我是谁吗，呃，约瑟夫？”

“别找我！我才不管这些闲事呢，”这个脑袋咕噜着，又不见了。

雪开始下大了。我握住门柄又试一回。这时一个没穿外衣的年轻人，扛着一根草耙，在后面院子里出现了。他招呼我跟着他走，穿过了一个洗衣房和一片铺平的地，那儿有煤棚、抽水机和鸽笼，我们终于到了我上次被接待过的那间温暖的、热闹的大屋子。煤、炭和木材混合在一起燃起的熊熊炉火，使这屋子放着光彩。在准备摆上丰盛晚餐的桌旁，我很高兴地看到了那位“太太”，以前我从未料想到会有这么一个人存在的。我鞠躬等候，以为她会叫我坐下。她望望我，往她的椅背一靠，不动，也不出声。

“天气真坏！”我说，“希刺克厉夫太太，恐怕大门因为您的仆人偷懒而大吃苦头，我费了好大劲才使他们听见我敲门！”

她死不开口。我瞪眼——她也瞪眼。反正她总是以一种冷冷的、漠不关心的神气盯住我，使人十分窘，而且不愉快。

“坐下吧，”那年轻人粗声粗气地说，“他就要来了。”

我服从了；轻轻咳了一下，叫唤那恶狗朱诺。临到第二次会面，它总算赏脸，摇起尾巴尖，表示认我是熟人了。

“好漂亮的狗！”我又开始说话。“您是不是打算不要这些小的呢，夫人？”

“那些不是我的，”这可爱可亲的女主人说，比希刺克厉夫本人所能回答的腔调还要更冷淡些。

“啊，您所心爱的是在这一堆里啦！”我转身指着一个看不清楚的靠垫上那

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