ng a lame horse; and Hareton was preparing for the hayfield.

'Hallo, Nelly!' said Mr. Heathcliff, when he saw me. 'I feared I should
have to come down and fetch my property myself. You've brought it, have
you? Let us see what we can make of it.'

He got up and strode to the door: Hareton and Joseph followed in gaping
curiosity. Poor Linton ran a frightened eye over the faces of the three.

'Sure-ly,' said Joseph after a grave inspection, 'he's swopped wi' ye,
Maister, an' yon's his lass!'

Heathcliff, having stared his son into an ague of confusion, uttered a
scornful laugh.

'God! what a beauty! what a lovely, charming thing!' he exclaimed.
'Hav'n't they reared it on snails and sour milk, Nelly? Oh, damn my
soul! but that's worse than I expected--and the devil knows I was not
sanguine!'

I bid the trembling and bewildered child get down, and enter. He did not
thoroughly comprehend the meaning of his father's speech, or whether it
were intended for him: indeed, he was not yet certain that the grim,
sneering stranger was his father. But he clung to me with growing
trepidation; and on Mr. Heathcliff's taking a seat and bidding him 'come
hither' he hid his face on my shoulder and wept.

'Tut, tut!' said Heathcliff, stretching out a hand and dragging him
roughly between his knees, and then holding up his head by the chin.
'None of that nonsense! We're not going to hurt thee, Linton--isn't that
thy name? Thou art thy mother's child, entirely! Where is my share in
thee, puling chicken?'

He took off the boy's cap and pushed back his thick flaxen curls, felt
his slender arms and his small fingers; during which examination Linton
ceased crying, and lifted his great blue eyes to inspect the inspector.

'Do you know me?' asked Heathcliff, having satisfied himself that the
limbs were all equally frail and feeble.

'No,' said Linton, with a gaze of vacant fear.

'You've heard of me, I daresay?'

'No,' he replied again.

'No! What a shame of your mother, never to waken your filial regard for
me! You are my son, then, I'll tell you; and your mother was a wicked
slut to leave you in ignorance of the sort of father you possessed. Now,
don't wince, and colour up! Though it is something to see you have not
white blood. Be a good lad; and I'll do for you. Nelly, if you be tired
you may sit down; if not, get home again. I guess you'll report what you
hear and see to the cipher at the Grange; and this thing