looked into his face, I perceived that he had got intelligence of the
catastrophe; and a foolish notion struck me that his heart was quelled
and he prayed, because his lips moved and his gaze was bent on the
ground.

'Yes, she's dead!' I answered, checking my sobs and drying my cheeks.
'Gone to heaven, I hope; where we may, every one, join her, if we take
due warning and leave our evil ways to follow good!'

'Did _she_ take due warning, then?' asked Heathcliff, attempting a sneer.
'Did she die like a saint? Come, give me a true history of the event.
How did--?'

He endeavoured to pronounce the name, but could not manage it; and
compressing his mouth he held a silent combat with his inward agony,
defying, meanwhile, my sympathy with an unflinching, ferocious stare.
'How did she die?' he resumed, at last--fain, notwithstanding his
hardihood, to have a support behind him; for, after the struggle, he
trembled, in spite of himself, to his very finger-ends.

'Poor wretch!' I thought; 'you have a heart and nerves the same as your
brother men! Why should you be anxious to conceal them? Your pride
cannot blind God! You tempt him to wring them, till he forces a cry of
humiliation.'

'Quietly as a lamb!' I answered, aloud. 'She drew a sigh, and stretched
herself, like a child reviving, and sinking again to sleep; and five
minutes after I felt one little pulse at her heart, and nothing more!'

'And--did she ever mention me?' he asked, hesitating, as if he dreaded
the answer to his question would introduce details that he could not bear
to hear.

'Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody from the time you left
her,' I said. 'She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest
ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle
dream--may she wake as kindly in the other world!'

'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping
his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion.
'Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not _there_--not in
heaven--not perished--where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my
sufferings! And I pray one prayer--I repeat it till my tongue
stiffens--Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living;
you said I killed you--haunt me, then! The murdered _do_ haunt their
murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts _have_ wandered on earth. Be
with me always--take any form--drive me mad! only _do_ not leave m