'Begone!' I shouted. 'I'll never let you in, not if you beg for
twenty years.' 'It is twenty years,' mourned the voice: 'twenty
years. I've been a waif for twenty years!' Thereat began a feeble
scratching outside, and the pile of books moved as if thrust
forward. I tried to jump up; but could not stir a limb; and so
yelled aloud, in a frenzy of fright. To my confusion, I discovered
the yell was not ideal: hasty footsteps approached my chamber
door; somebody pushed it open, with a vigorous hand, and a light
glimmered through the squares at the top of the bed. I sat
shuddering yet, and wiping the perspiration from my forehead: the
intruder appeared to hesitate, and muttered to himself. At last,
he said, in a half-whisper, plainly not expecting an answer, 'Is
any one here?' I considered it best to confess my presence; for I
knew Heathcliff's accents, and feared he might search further, if I
kept quiet. 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 - '