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2 Catherine Earnshaw's room
1801‘Quietly，sir！’whispered the housekeeper1，as we climbed up the dark stairs．‘My master will be angry if he discovers which bedroom you're sleeping in.For some rea-son he doesn't want anyone to sleep there，I don't know why．They're strange people in this house，you know．Here's the room，sir.
But I was too tired to listen．‘Thank you，Zillah，’I said，and，taking the candle，I entered the room and closed the door.
The only piece of furniture in the large，dusty bedroom was a bed，placed next to the window. There were heavy curtains which could be pulled around it，to hide the sleeper2 from anyone else in the room．Looking inside the curtains I saw a little shelf full of books，just under the window.I put my can-dle down on the shelf，and dropped thankfully on to the bed．I closed the curtains around the bed，and felt safe from Heathcliff and everyone else at Wuthering Heights．
I noticed that there were names written on the wall in childish3 handwriting—Catherine Earnshaw，Catherine Heathcliff and Catherine Linton．Then I fell asleep，but I was woken very suddenly by a smell of burning. My candle had fallen on to a Bible4 on the shelf and was burning it．When I opened the Bible to see if it was damaged，I found that wherever there was an empty page，or half a page，someone had written on it，and on the first page was written ‘Catherine Earnshaw's diary，1776’．Who was the girl who had slept in this bed，written her name on the wall，and then written her diary in the Bible，twenty-five years ago？I read it with interest．
‘How I hate my brother Hindley！’it began．‘He is so cruel to poor Heathcliff．If only my father hadn't died！While he was alive，Heathcliff was like a brother to Hindley and me．But now Hindley and his wife Frances have inherited5 the house and the money，and they hate Heathcliff.That horrible6 old servant Joseph is always angry with Heathcliff and me because we don't pray or study the Bible，and when he tells his master，Hindley always punishes us．I can't stop crying. Poor Heathcliff！Hindley says he is wicked7，and can't play with me or eat with me any more.’
My eyes were beginning to close again and I fell asleep．Never before had I passed such a terrible night，disturbed by the most frightening dreams．Suddenly I was woken by a gentle knocking on the window. It must be the branch of a tree，I thought，and tried to sleep again．Outside I could hear the wind driving the snow against the window．
But I could not sleep．The knocking annoyed8 me so much that I tried to open the window. When it did not open， I broke the glass angrily and stretched out my hand towards the branch．But instead，my fingers closed around a small，ice－cold hand！It held my hand tightly，and a voice cried sadly，‘Let me in！Let me in！’
‘Who are you？’I asked，trying to pull my hand away．
‘Catherine Linton，’it replied．‘I've come home．I lost my way！’There seemed to be a child's face looking in at the window.
Terror9 made me cruel. I rubbed the creature's tiny wrist10 against the broken glass so that blood poured down on to the bed．As soon as the cold fingers let go for a moment，I pulled my hand quickly back，put a pile of books in front of the broken window，and tried not to listen to the desperate11 cries outside.
‘Go away！’I called．‘I'll never let you in，not if you go on crying for twenty years！’
‘It is almost twenty years！'replied the sad little voice．‘I've been out here in the dark for nearly twenty years！’The hand started pushing through the window at the pile of books，and I knew it would find me and catch hold of me again．Unable to move，I stared in horror12 at the shape behind the glass，and screamed.
There were rapid footsteps13 outside my bedroom door，and then I saw the light of a candle in the room．
‘Is anyone here？’whispered Heathcliff．He could not see me behind the curtains，and clearly did not expect an answer.I knew I could not hide from him，so I opened the curtains wide.
I was surprised by the effect of my action．Heathcliff dropped his candle and stood without moving，his face as white as the wall behind him．He did not seem to recognize me.
‘It's only your guest，Lockwood，’I said．‘I'm sorry，I must have had a bad dream and screamed in my sleep．’
‘To the devil14 with you，Mr Lockwood！’growled my landlord15．‘Who allowed you to sleep in this room？Who was it？’
‘It was your housekeeper，Mr Heathcliff，’I said，quickly putting my clothes on．‘And I'm angry with her myself！ No one can sleep in a room full of ghosts！’
‘What do you mean？’asked Heathcliff，looking suddenly very interested.‘Ghosts，you say？’
‘That little girl，Catherine Linton，or Earnshaw，or whatever her name was，must have been wicked！She told me she had been a ghost for nearly twenty years．It was probably a punishment for her wickedness16！’
‘How dare17 you speak of her to me？’cried Heathcliff wildly．But as I described my dream，he became calmer，and sat down on the bed，trembling as he tried to control his feelings.
‘Mr Lockwood，’he said finally，brushing a tear from his eye，‘you can go into my bedroom to sleep for the rest of the night．I'll stay here for a while．’
‘No more sleep for me tonight，’I replied．‘I'll wait in the kitchen until it's daylight，and then I'll leave．You needn't worry about my visiting you again either．I've had enough company for a long time．’
But as I turned to go downstairs，my landlord，thinking he was alone，threw himself on the bed，pushed open the window and called into the darkness．‘Come in！Come in！’he cried，tears rolling down his face．‘Catherine，do come！My darling，hear me this time！’
But only the snow and wind blew into the room.
How could my dream have produced such madness？I could not watch his suffering any more，and went downstairs.
I waited in the kitchen until it was light enough outside for me to find my way through the deep snow back to Thrushcross Grange. The housekeeper there，Ellen Dean18，rushed out to welcome me home. She thought I must have died in the previous night's snowstorm19．With a warm fire，and a hot meal，I began to recover from my unpleasant20 experiences．
After my stay at Wuthering Heights，I thought I would never want to speak to any human being again，but by the end of the next day I was beginning to feel lonely．I decided21 to ask Mrs Dean to sit with me after supper.
‘How long have you lived in this house？’I asked her．
‘Eighteen years，sir. I came here early in 1783 when my mistress22 was married，to look after her. And when she died，I stayed here as housekeeper.’
‘Who was your mistress？’I asked.
‘Her name was Catherine Earnshaw，'she replied.
‘Ah，my ghostly Catherine，’I muttered23 quietly to myself.
‘She married Mr Edgar Linton，a neighbour，’added Mrs Dean，‘and they had a daughter，Cathy，who married Mr Heathcliff's son.’
‘Ah，so that must be the widow，young Mrs Heathcliff at Wuthering Heights！’
‘That's right，sir．Did you see her？I looked after her as a baby，you know. How is she？I do want to know.’
‘She looked very well，and very beautiful．But I don't think she's happy．’
‘Oh，poor thing！And what did you think of Mr Heathcliff？’
‘He's a rough，hard man，Mrs Dean．But I'm very interested in him．Tell me more about him.’
‘Well，he's very rich，of course，and mean at the same time．He could live here at Thrushcross Grange，which is a finer house than Wuthering Heights，but he would rather receive rent than live comfortably．But I'll tell you the whole story of his life，as much as I know，that is，and then you can judge for yourself.’
2 凯瑟琳·欧肖的房间
1801年
“别出声，先生！”我们爬上黑暗的楼梯时女管家轻声对我说。“如果我的主人发现你睡在那间卧室，他会生气的。因为某些原因，他不愿任何人睡在那儿，我不知为什么。这座房子里尽是怪人，这你知道。就是这个房间，先生。”
但我太累了，也没顾得上听。“谢谢，齐拉，”我说，然后拿着蜡烛，进了房间，关上门。
这是一间很大的卧室，积满灰尘，唯一的家具就是那张靠窗放着的床。有几重厚厚的帘子，拉起来可以把床围住，这样房里的其他人就看不见睡觉的人了。我往帘子里头看了一眼，看到窗子的正下方有一个装满了书的架子。我把蜡烛放到架子上，心满意足地躺上了床。我把床的围帘拉上，有一种与希斯克利夫和呼啸山庄所有其他人隔开的安稳感觉。
我注意到墙上写着些名字，笔迹很幼稚——凯瑟琳·欧肖，凯瑟琳·希斯克利夫和凯瑟琳·林顿。然后我就睡着了，但突然我被一阵着火的味儿呛醒了。是蜡烛倒在了架子上的一本《圣经》上，正烧着呢。当我打开那本《圣经》看有没有烧坏时，发现凡是有空白页，或半页空白的地方都写满了字，而第一页上就写着“凯瑟琳·欧肖的日记，1776年”。25年前在这床上睡过、在墙上写上自己的名字，然后又在《圣经》上写日记的姑娘是谁？我饶有兴致地读了下去。
“我恨死我哥哥亨德雷了！”日记开始写道，“他对可怜的希斯克利夫太凶了。如果我爸爸还没过世该多好！他活着的时候，希斯克利夫先生就像是我和亨德雷的兄弟一般。但现在亨德雷和他老婆弗朗西丝继承了房子和财产，而他们恨希斯克利夫。约瑟夫那可恶的老仆人又总是因为希斯克利夫和我不祈祷或不读《圣经》而对我们吹胡子瞪眼，当他状告到主人那儿，亨德雷肯定要惩罚我们。我止不住要哭。可怜的希斯克利夫！亨德雷说他邪性，再也不让他跟我一起玩儿，不让他跟我一起吃饭。”
我的眼睛又慢慢合上，睡着了。在这以前我从来没有经历过那么可怕的一夜，被最令人恐惧的梦魇烦扰着。突然间我被窗子上轻轻的敲击声弄醒了，一定是树枝的缘故，我想，打算接着再睡。我能听到外面风卷着雪花打在窗子上的声音。
但我无法入睡。敲击声太让人心烦，我试图打开窗户。窗子打不开，于是我恼怒地砸碎了玻璃向外伸手去够那根树枝。但树枝没够着，却抓住了一只冰凉的小手！小手紧紧抓着我的手，一个声音哭诉道，“让我进去！让我进去！”
“你是谁？”我问道，想把手抽回来。
“凯瑟琳·林顿，”它回答，“我回家了！我迷路了！”似乎有一张孩子的脸由窗外探望进来。
恐惧使我心狠起来。我把那小东西的细小的手腕儿在破玻璃上拉来拉去，直到血淌到了床上。那冰冷的手指一放松，我就赶紧把手抽了回来，在窗子缺口前堆了一摞书，尽量不去听外面那苦苦哀求的声音。
“滚开！”我嚷道，“我决不会让你进来的，再叫20年也没用！”
“已经快有二十年啦！”那凄楚孱弱的声音回答道。“我流落在外面这黑暗里已经将近20年啦！”那只手开始伸过窗子的破口来推那摞书，我知道它会找到我而且又会抓住我的。我一动不能动，惊恐地盯着玻璃后面的影子，放声尖叫起来。
我的卧室门外很快就传来了急促的脚步声，然后就看到房间里有了烛光。
“有人吗？”希斯克利夫低声问。我在帘子后面，他看不见，因而显然不指望会有人回答。我知道我躲不过他了，就把帘子拉开了一大块。
我这个动作的后果让我吃了一惊。希斯克利夫手里的蜡烛掉了，呆呆地站在那儿，他的脸煞白得像他身后的墙。他好像没认出我来。
“我不过是您的客人，洛克伍德啊，”我说。“对不起，想必我做了个恶梦，在睡梦中尖叫出来了。”
“见鬼去吧，洛克伍德先生！”我的房东咆哮道。“谁允许你睡在这房间的？是谁？”
“是您的女管家，希斯克利夫先生，”我说，同时很快地穿上了衣服。“我也很生她的气！没人能睡在这挤满鬼魂的房间！”
“你什么意思？”希斯克利夫问，突然露出很感兴趣的样子。“鬼魂，你说？”
“那个小姑娘，凯瑟琳·林顿，或欧肖，或不管她叫什么，一定是个邪种！她告诉我她已经做了将近二十年的鬼了。这可能就是对她邪恶的惩罚！”
“你怎么竟敢对我说起她来？”希斯克利夫狂怒地高声叫道。但随着我描述着梦境，他开始平静下来，在床边坐下，颤抖着，试图控制他的情绪。
“洛克伍德先生，”最后他开腔了，一边抹去他眼里的一滴泪，“后半夜你可以去我的卧室睡。我要在这儿呆一会儿。”
“今晚我没法再睡了，”我回答。“我要到厨房坐到天亮，然后就走。您也不必担心我会再来拜访您了。就这伴儿已够折腾我好一阵子了。”
当我转身下楼时，我的房东以为就他自己了，一头倒在床上，推开窗户，对着黑暗喊叫起来。“进来吧！进来吧！”他哭喊着，眼泪顺着他的脸淌下来。“凯瑟琳，来吧！我的爱人，这次你听到我了吧！”
但只有雪花和着风吹进房来。
我的梦怎么会让他如此疯狂？我不忍再看他凄苦的样子，下楼去了。
我在厨房等着，直到外面的天光能使我在深深的雪地里找到回画眉山庄的路。画眉山庄的女管家，艾伦·迪恩，赶出来迎我回家。她以为我一定在头夜的暴风雪中死了呢。抱着暖暖的一炉火，吃了一顿热乎乎的饭菜，我开始从我不快的经历中恢复了过来。
打我在呼啸山庄过了一夜之后，我想我再也不会同任何人说话了，但到了第二天后半晌我又开始觉得孤单。我决定让迪恩夫人在晚饭后陪我坐一会儿。
“你在这房子里住了多久啦？”我问她。
“18年啦，先生。我是在1783年初我的女主人结婚时来这儿的，来照顾她。她死后，我就做了这儿的女管家。”
“你的女主人是谁？”我问。
“她名叫凯瑟琳·欧肖，”她回答。
“啊，我的鬼魂凯瑟琳，”我喃喃地自语道。
“她嫁给了艾加·林顿先生，一个邻居，”迪恩夫人补充说，“后来他们生了个女儿，凯茜，嫁给了希斯克利夫先生的儿子。”
“哦，一定就是那个寡妇，呼啸山庄里年轻的希斯克利夫夫人！”
“对，先生。您见到她了吗？她小时候是我看的，您知道。她怎么样？我真的很想知道。”
“她看上去很好，非常漂亮。但我觉得她并不开心。”
“噢，可怜的人儿！那您觉得希斯克利夫先生怎么样？”
“他是个粗暴、苛刻的人，迪恩夫人。但我对他挺有兴趣。给我再说些他的事。”
“嗯，他很富，当然，同时吝啬。他本可以住在画眉山庄这儿，房子要比呼啸山庄好，但他宁愿收租金也不愿住得舒坦。我会给您讲所有有关他的事儿，就是尽我所知的，然后您就可以自己判断了。”
收听单词发音 |
1
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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childish
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| adj.孩子的，孩子气的，幼稚的 | |
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bible
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| n.《圣经》；得到权威支持的典籍 | |
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inherited
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| adj.通过继承得到的，遗传的；继承权的v.继承( inherit的过去式和过去分词 )；经遗传获得（品质、身体特征等）接替（责任等），继任 | |
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horrible
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| adj.可怕的，极可憎的，极可厌的 | |
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wicked
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| adj.邪恶的，恶劣的，缺德的；淘气的 | |
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annoyed
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| adj.烦恼的，恼怒的，生气的，恼火的 | |
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terror
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| n.恐怖；可怖的人(事) | |
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wrist
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| n.手腕，腕关节 | |
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desperate
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| adj.不顾死活的，危急的，令人绝望的，极渴望的 | |
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horror
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| n.惊骇，恐怖，惨事，极端厌恶 | |
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footsteps
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| n.脚步（声），一步的距离，足迹；脚步（声）( footstep的名词复数 )；一步的距离；足迹 | |
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devil
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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landlord
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| n.地主，房东，(旅店)店主 | |
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wickedness
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| n.邪恶 | |
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dare
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| n.敢，挑战；aux.敢；vi.敢；vt.敢于，勇于面对 | |
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Dean
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| n.(大学)院长，系主任，教务长 | |
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snowstorm
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| n.雪暴，暴风雪 | |
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unpleasant
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| adj.使人不愉快的，使人厌恶的，煞风景的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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mistress
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| n.（文学用语）使男子为之倾倒的女人，女主人 | |
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muttered
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| 轻声低语，咕哝地抱怨( mutter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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