With this intention, I turned and opened the panels. I shall not soon forget the effect my action produced.

Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; with a candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as the wall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like an electric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up.

“It is only your guest, sir,” I called out, desirous to spare him the humiliation of exposing his cowardice further. “I had the misfortune to scream in my sleep, owing to a frightful nightmare. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“Oh, God confound you, Mr. Lockwood! I wish you were at the—” commenced my host, setting the candle on a chair, because he found it impossible to hold it steady. “And who showed you up into this room?” he continued, crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions. “Who was it? I’ve a good mind to turn them out of the house this moment!”

“It was your servant Zillah,” I replied, flinging myself on to the floor, and rapidly resuming my garments. “I should not care if you did, Mr. Heathcliff; she richly deserves it. I suppose that she wanted to get another proof that the place was haunted, at my expense. Well, it is—swarming with ghosts and goblins! You have reason in shutting it up, I assure you. No one will thank you for a doze in such a den!”

“What do you mean?” asked Heathcliff, “and what are you doing? Lie down and finish out the night, since you are here; but, for Heaven’s sake! don’t repeat that horrid noise: nothing could excuse it, unless you were having your throat cut!”

“If the little fiend had got in at the window, she probably would have strangled me!” I returned. “I’m not going to endure the persecutions of your hospitable ancestors again. Was not the Reverend Jabez Branderham akin to you on the mother’s side? And that minx, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called—she must have been a changeling—wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal transgressions, I’ve no doubt!”

Scarcely were these words uttered when I recollected the association of Heathcliff’s with Catherine’s name in the book, which had completely slipped from my memory, till thus awakened. I blushed at my inconsideration: but, without showing further consciousness of the offence, I hastened to add—“The truth is, sir, I passed the first part of the night in—” Here I stopped afresh—I was about to say “perusing those old volumes,” then it would have revealed my knowledge of their written, as well as their printed, contents; so, correcting myself, I went on—“in spelling over the name scratched on that window-ledge. A monotonous occupation, calculated to set me asleep, like counting, or—”

“What can you mean by talking in this way to me!” thundered Heathcliff with savage vehemence. “How—how dare you, under my roof?—God! he’s mad to speak so!” And he struck his forehead with rage.

I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue my explanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pity and proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation of “Catherine Linton” before, but reading it often over produced an impression which personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control. Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke; finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an excess of violent emotion. Not liking to show him that I had heard the conflict, I continued my toilette rather noisily, looked at my watch, and soliloquised on the length of the night: “Not three o’clock yet! I could have taken oath it had been six. Time stagnates here: we must surely have retired to rest at eight!”

“Always at nine in winter, and rise at four,” said my host, suppressing a groan: and, as I fancied, by the motion of his arm’s shadow, dashing a tear from his eyes. “Mr. Lockwood,” he added, “you may go into my room: you’ll only be in the way, coming downstairs so early: and your childish outcry has sent sleep to the devil for me.”

“And for me, too,” I replied. “I’ll walk in the yard till daylight, and then I’ll be off; and you need not dread a repetition of my intrusion. I’m now quite cured of seeking pleasure in society, be it country or town. A sensible man ought to find sufficient company in himself.”

“Delightful company!” muttered Heathcliff. “Take the candle, and go where you please. I shall join you directly. Keep out of the yard, though, the dogs are unchained; and the house—Juno mounts sentinel there, and—nay, you can only ramble about the steps and passages. But, away with you! I’ll come in two minutes!”

I obeyed, so far as to quit the chamber; when, ignorant where the narrow lobbies led, I stood still, and was witness, involuntarily, to a piece of superstition on the part of my landlord which belied, oddly, his apparent sense. He got on to the bed, and wrenched open the lattice, bursting, as he pulled at it, into an uncontrollable passion of tears. “Come in! come in!” he sobbed. “Cathy, do come. Oh, do—once more! Oh! my heart’s darling! hear me this time, Catherine, at last!” The spectre showed a spectre’s ordinary caprice: it gave no sign of being; but the snow and wind whirled wildly through, even reaching my station, and blowing out the light.

There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though why was beyond my comprehension. I descended cautiously to the lower regions, and landed in the back-kitchen, where a gleam of fire, raked compactly together, enabled me to rekindle my candle. Nothing was stirring except a brindled, grey cat, which crept from the ashes, and saluted me with a querulous mew.

这样想着，我就翻身推开嵌板。我的这个动作造成的后果使我久久无法忘怀。

黑思克里夫站在门口，穿着衬衣衬裤，手举一支蜡烛，烛泪正一滴滴流到他的手指头上，脸色苍白得像他身后墙的颜色一样。橡木门嘎吱的第一声响吓得他像是被电击了一样——手里握着的蜡烛跳出去有好几尺远，这令他太局促不安了，以至于他几乎无法把蜡烛捡起来。

“这儿只不过是您的房客，先生。”我叫出声来，尽力使他挽回面子，而不至于因为暴露出胆怯的样子而更丢面子。“刚才我作了一个可怕的噩梦，很不凑巧在睡着时大叫起来。我很抱歉打搅到您了。”

“啊，上帝会惩罚你的，劳克伍德先生！但愿你是在——”我的房东开始说，把蜡烛放在一把椅子上，因为他发现要他举着蜡烛稳稳不晃，他办不到。“是谁带你到这间屋子里来的？”他接着说，并把指甲掐进他的手心，咬牙切齿以便防止腭骨的抽搐。“是谁？此时此刻我真想把他们撵出门去！”

“您的仆人，琦腊，”我回答道，我跳到地板上，急急忙忙穿好衣服。“您要是真撵她，我也不在乎，黑思克里夫先生。她活该，我猜想她是想牺牲我来再证明一下这房间闹鬼罢了。嗨，是闹鬼——满屋都是鬼怪精灵！我给你说，你完全有理由把这个房间关起来。只要是在这么个窝里睡上一小会儿觉的人，没一个会感谢你！”

“你这是什么意思？”黑思克里夫问道，“你在干吗？既来之，则安之。就在这儿躺着睡一晚！可是，看在老天爷的份上！别再发出那种可怕的叫声啦。我实在没借口来替你那叫声开脱，除非有人在割你的喉咙！”

“要是那个小妖精真地从窗子进来，恐怕她早已经把我给掐死了！”我回嘴说。“我准备不再受你那些热情好客先人们的迫害了。詹伯兹•布然德罕牧师不是你母亲娘家亲戚吗？还有那个疯丫头，阚思睿•林腾，或者叫阚思睿•俄韶，不管她姓什么——她一定是个性格多变——恶毒的小鬼头！她告诉我说这二十年来她就在这地面上流浪——我毫不怀疑，这是对她在尘世犯下的罪行合理惩罚啊！”

这些话还没有说完，我立刻想起那本书上黑思克里夫与阚思睿这两个人之间的联系，这点我完全忘了，此时才醒过来。我为我考虑不周而感到脸红，可是为了表示我并没有进一步意识到我的冒失，我赶紧加一句，“事实是，先生，前半夜我在——”说到这儿我又顿时停住了——我差点说出“翻阅那些旧书”，那就表明我不但知道书中印刷的内容，也知道那些用笔写出的内容了。因此，我改过来接着往下说——“在拼读刻在窗台上的名字。一种很无聊的游戏，算计着可以使我睡着，像数数一样，或是——”

“你对我说这些，到底是什么意思？”黑思克里夫野蛮地大吼一声。“怎么——你胆敢在我的屋檐下？——天呀！他说这些一定是疯啦！”他愤怒地敲着自己的额头。

我不知道该和他抬杠，还是继续向他解释。可是他仿佛大受震动，我都开始可怜他了，于是继续给他讲我的梦，我肯定我以前绝没有听过“阚思睿•林腾”这个名字，可能念得多了才产生了一个印象，当我不能控制我的想象时，想象就变成真人了。黑思克里夫在我说话的时候，慢慢地往床后靠，最后坐下来差不多是在后面隐藏起来了。但是，听他上气不接下气并非均匀的呼吸，我猜想他是拼命克制着过分强烈的情感。我不想让他看出我已觉察出他所处的矛盾中，就继续洗涮，并且发出很大的声响，又看了看表，自言自语地抱怨说夜晚太长。“现在还不到三点钟哪！我本想断言说已经六点了，时间在这儿停滞不动啦——我们昨晚上一定是八点钟就睡了！”

“冬天总是九点睡，早上四点起床。”我的房东说，克制住了一声呻吟。从他胳臂动作的影子看，我猜想他正在擦眼睛里的一滴泪水。“劳克伍德先生，”他又说，“你可以到我屋里去。你这么早下楼只会碍手碍脚，你这小孩子般的大叫已经把我的睡意赶到魔鬼那里去了。”

“我也一样。”我答道，“我要到院子里走走，等天一亮就离开。您不必害怕我再来打搅。不管是在乡下还是在城里，我想寻欢作乐的毛病现在已经治好了。神志清楚的人应该学会跟自己做伴就够了。”

“你可真是个令人愉快的伴儿！”黑思克里夫嘟囔着，“拿上蜡烛，你爱上哪儿就上哪儿。我会直接找你。不过别到院子里去，狗都没拴。正屋里——朱诺在那儿守夜，还有——不，你只能在楼梯和过道溜达。不过，你去吧！两分钟后我就来。”

我听从了他的建议，离开这间卧室。我当时不知道那狭窄的小屋通向何方，就只好站在原地不动，不料却无意亲眼看见我的房东做出一种匪夷所思的迷信动作，与他表现出来的理智背道而驰。他上了床，扭开窗格，一边拉开窗子，一边涌出压抑不住的热泪。“进来吧！进来吧！”他抽泣着。“阚思，来吧！啊，来呀——再来一次！啊！我心爱的人儿！这回听到我的话了吧，阚思，最后一次！”鬼魂表现出一贯的反复无常——没有任何迹象！只有风卷着雪花狂野般地呼啸而入，甚至吹到我站的地方，并吹灭了蜡烛。

在这突然涌出的悲哀中，竟有这样的痛苦伴随着这段发狂的话，以致我对他的怜悯之情令我不在意他的愚蠢行径了。我避开了，一方面由于自己听到了他这番话而气消了一半，另一方面又因自己诉说了我那荒唐可笑的噩梦而烦躁不安，因为就是那个噩梦令我悲恸不已。至于是什么原因，我就不得而知了。我小心地下了楼，到了后厨，那儿有一星火苗，我把火苗拨拢在一起，点着了蜡烛。没有惊扰到任何人，只有一只浑身斑纹的灰猫从灰烬里爬出来，怨声怨气地喵了一声，算是向我行了个礼。