17 Wuthering Heights -Read And Abridged By Stephanie Poppins

Hello.

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to romantic podcast that guarantees you a calm and entertaining transition into a great night's sleep.

Come with me as we immerse ourselves in a romantic journey to a time long since forgotten.

Emily Bronte was born in Yorkshire in 1818 and along with her brother and sisters Anne and Charlotte wrote from childhood onwards.

Wuthering Heights is the story she is best remembered for.

But before we begin let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

That's it.

Now close your eyes and feel yourself sink deeper into the support beneath you.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 17 continued.

The dawnful silence was broken at length by the sound of the kitchen latch.

Heathcliff had returned from his watch earlier that usual owing,

I suppose,

To the sudden storm.

That entrance was fastened and we heard him coming round to get in by the other.

I rose with an irrepressible expression of what I felt on my lips which induced my companion who had been staring towards the door to turn and look at me.

I'll keep him out five minutes,

He exclaimed.

He won't object.

No,

You may keep him out the whole night for me,

Answered Isabella.

Do put the key in the lock and draw the bolts.

Earnshaw,

Then she said,

Earnshaw accomplished this ere his guests reached the front.

He came again and brought his chair to the other side of my table,

Leaning over it and searching in my eyes for a spot to sit on.

He came again and brought his chair to the other side of my table,

Leaning over it and searching in my eyes for a sympathy with a burning hate that gleamed for his.

He both looked and felt like an assassin,

But he discovered enough to encourage him to speak.

You and I,

He said,

Have such a great debt to settle with a man out yonder,

If we were neither of us cowards we might combine to discharge it.

Are you as soft as your brother?

Are you willing to endure to the last and not once attempt a repayment?

I'm wary of enduring now,

Said Isabella,

And I'd be glad for a retaliation that wouldn't recoil on myself,

But treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends.

They wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.

Treachery and violence are just a return for treachery and violence.

Cried Hindley,

Mrs Heathcliff,

I'll ask you to do nothing but sit still and be dumb.

Tell me now,

Can you?

I'm sure you would have as much pleasure as I in witnessing the conclusion of the fiend's existence.

He'll be your death unless you overreach him and he'll be my ruin.

Damn that hellish villain,

He knocks at the doors if you were a master here already.

Promise to hold your tongue,

And before that clock strikes he wants three minutes of one,

And you're a free woman.

He took the implants which I described to you in my letter from his breast,

Said Isabella,

And he would have turned down the candle.

I snatched it away,

However,

And seized his arm.

I'll not hold my tongue,

I said,

You mustn't touch him.

Let the door remain shut and be quiet.

No,

I formed my resolution,

Said Hindley,

And by God I'll execute it.

I'll do you a kindness in spite of yourself and hairton justice,

And you needn't trouble your head to scream me.

Catherine is gone,

Nobody alive would regret me or be ashamed,

Though I cut my throat this minute,

And it's time to make an end.

I might as well have struggled with a bear or reasoned with a lunatic,

Said Isabella.

The only resource left me was to run to a lattice and warn his intended victim of the fate which awaited him.

You'd better seek shelter somewhere else tonight,

I said in rather a triumphant tone.

Mr Earnshaw's a mind to shoot you if you persist in intethering to enter.

You'd better open the door,

You,

He answered,

Addressing me by some elegant term I don't care to repeat.

I shall not meddle in the matter,

I retorted again.

Come in and get shot if you please,

I've done my duty,

Said I,

And with that I shut the window and returned to my place by the fire,

Having too small a stock of hypocrisy at my command to pretend any anxiety for the danger that menaced Heathcliff.

Earnshaw swore passionately at me,

Affirming I loved the villain yet,

And calling me all sorts of names for the base spirit I had convinced,

And in my secret heart thought what a blessing it would be for him should Heathcliff put him out of his misery.

Isabella,

Let me in or I'll make you repent,

He gurned,

As Joseph calls it.

I cannot commit murder,

I replied.

Mr Hindley stands sentinel with a knife and loaded pistol.

Let me in by the kitchen door,

He said.

Hindley will be there before me,

I answered,

And that's a poor love of yours that cannot bear a shower of snow.

We were left at peace in our beds as long as the summer moon shone,

But the moment a blast of winter returns you must run for shelter.

Heathcliff,

If I were you I'd go stretch myself over her grave and die like a faithful dog.

He is there,

Is he?

Exclaimed Hindley,

Rushing to the gap.

If I can get my arm out I can hit him.

I'm afraid,

Ellen,

You'll set me down as really wicked,

Isabella continued,

But you don't know all,

So don't judge.

I wouldn't have hated or abetted an attempt on his life or anything.

Wish that he was dead,

I must,

And therefore I was fearfully disappointed and unnerved by terror when he flung himself on Earnshaw's weapon and wrenched it from his grasp.

The charge exploded and the knife in springing back closed into its owner's wrist.

Heathcliff pulled it away by main force,

Slitting up the flesh as it passed on and thrust it dripping into his pocket.

He then took a stone,

Struck down the division between the windows and sprang in.

His adversary had fallen senseless with excessive pain and the flow of blood that gushed from an artery or a large vein.

The ruffian kicked and trampled on him and dashed his head repeatedly against the flags,

Holding me with one hand to prevent me summoning Joseph.

He exerted pre-ter human self-denial in abstaining from finishing him completely,

But getting out of breath,

Heathcliff finally desisted and dragged the apparently inanimate body onto the settle.

Then he tore off the sleeve of Earnshaw's coat and bound up the wound with brutal roughness.

Being at liberty myself,

I lost no time in seeking the old servant,

Who,

Having gathered by degrees the purport of my hasty tale,

Hurried below,

Gasping as he descended the steps to it at once.

What's there to do now?

What's there to do now?

He said.

There's this to do,

Thundered Heathcliff,

That your master's mad and should he last another month I'll have him out to an asylum.

And how the devil did you come to farce me out,

You toothless hound?

Don't stand muttering and mumbling.

I'm not going to nurse him.

Wash that stuff away and mine the sparks of your candle.

It's more than half brandy.

So now you've been murdering on him,

Exclaimed Joseph,

Lifting his hand and eyes in horror.

If ever I saw a sight like this,

May the Lord.

.

.

Heathcliff gave him a push onto his knees in the middle of the blood and flung a towel towards him.

But instead of proceeding to dry it up,

He joined his hands and began a prayer,

Which excited my laughter from its odd phraseology.

I was in the condition of mind to be shocked at nothing.

In fact,

I was as reckless as some malefactors show themselves at the foot of the gallows.

Oh,

I'd forgotten you,

Said Heathcliff.

You shall do that,

Down with you.

And you conspire with him against me,

Do you,

Viper?

He shook me till my teeth rattled and pitched me beside Joseph,

Who steadily concluded his supplications.

Then he rose,

Bowing he was set off for the Grange directly.

Mr.

Linton was a magistrate,

And though he had 50 wives dead,

He should enquire into this.

Presently,

Mr.

Earnshaw convinced Joseph he was alive still,

And Joseph hastened to administer a dose of spirits.

Then Heathcliff left,

And Hindley stretched himself on the hearthstone.

I departed to my own room,

Marvelling that I'd escaped so easily.

This morning,

When I came down,

About half an hour before noon,

Mr.

Earnshaw was sitting by the fire,

Deadly sick.

His evil genius,

Almost as gaunt and ghastly,

Lent against the chimney.

Neither appeared inclined to dine,

And having waited till all was cold on the table,

I commenced alone.

Nothing hindered me from eating heartily,

And I experienced a certain sense of satisfaction and superiority.

After I'd done,

I ventured on the unusual liberty of drawing near the fire,

Going round Earnshaw's seat and kneeling in the corner beside him.

Heathcliff did not glance my way,

And as I gazed up and contemplated his features,

Almost as confidently as if they'd been turned to stone,

His forehead,

Which I once thought so manly,

And which I now think so diabolical,

Was shaded with a heavy cloud.

His basilisk eyes were nearly quenched by sleeplessness,

And weeping perhaps,

For the lashes were wet then,

His lips devoid of their ferocious sneer,

And sealed in an expression of unspeakable sadness.

Had it been another,

I would have covered my face in the presence of such grief.

In his case,

I was in the presence of a man.

In his case,

I was gratified,

And,

Ennobled as it seems to insult a fallen enemy,

I couldn't miss the chance of sticking in a dart.

His weakness was the only time when I could taste the delight of paying wrong for wrong.

Then Nellie continued,

Then Nellie continued,

In general,

I'll allow it would be,

Ellen,

Isabella continued,

But what misery lay on Heathcliff could content me,

Unless I have a hand in it.

I'd rather he suffered less,

If I might cause his sufferings,

And he might know I was the cause.

Oh,

I owe him so much.

And on only one condition can I hope to forgive him.

It is,

If I may take an eye for an eye,

A tooth for a tooth,

For every wrench of agony,

Return a wrench,

Reduce him to my level.

As he was the first to injure,

Make him the first to implore pardon,

And then,

Why then,

Ellen,

I might show you some generosity.

But it is utterly impossible I can ever be revenged,

And therefore,

I cannot,

And will not,

Ever forgive Heathcliff.