Wuthering Heights - by Emily Bronte
Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly
shabby upper garment, and, erecting himself before the blaze,
looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as
if there were some mortal feud unavenged between us. I began to
doubt whether he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were
both rude, entirely devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and
Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick brown curls were rough and uncultivated,
his whiskers encroached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands
were embrowned like those of a common labourer: still his bearing
was free, almost haughty, and he showed none of a domestic's
assiduity in attending on the lady of the house. In the absence of
clear proofs of his condition, I deemed it best to abstain from
noticing his curious conduct; and, five minutes afterwards, the
entrance of Heathcliff relieved me, in some measure, from my
'You see, sir, I am come, according to promise!' I exclaimed,
assuming the cheerful; 'and I fear I shall be weather-bound for
half an hour, if you can afford me shelter during that space.'
'Half an hour?' he said, shaking the white flakes from his clothes;
'I wonder you should select the thick of a snow-storm to ramble
about in. Do you know that you run a risk of being lost in the
marshes? People familiar with these moors often miss their road on
such evenings; and I can tell you there is no chance of a change at
'Perhaps I can get a guide among your lads, and he might stay at
the Grange till morning - could you spare me one?'
'No, I could not.'
'Oh, indeed! Well, then, I must trust to my own sagacity.'