Wuthering Heights

with knives and spears. I observed several splashes of blood about the
bark of the tree, and his hand and forehead were both stained; probably
the scene I witnessed was a repetition of others acted during the
night. It hardly moved my compassion—it appalled me: still, I felt
reluctant to quit him so. But the moment he recollected himself enough
to notice me watching, he thundered a command for me to go, and I
obeyed. He was beyond my skill to quiet or console!

Mrs. Linton’s funeral was appointed to take place on the Friday
following her decease; and till then her coffin remained uncovered, and
strewn with flowers and scented leaves, in the great drawing-room.
Linton spent his days and nights there, a sleepless guardian; and—a
circumstance concealed from all but me—Heathcliff spent his nights, at
least, outside, equally a stranger to repose. I held no communication
with him; still, I was conscious of his design to enter, if he could;
and on the Tuesday, a little after dark, when my master, from sheer
fatigue, had been compelled to retire a couple of hours, I went and
opened one of the windows; moved by his perseverance to give him a
chance of bestowing on the faded image of his idol one final adieu. He