mouthed thief, you! you shall go to the gallows for this. Mr.
Linton, sir, don't lay by your gun." "No, no, Robert," said the
old fool. "The rascals knew that yesterday was my rent-day: they
thought to have me cleverly. Come in; I'll furnish them a
reception. There, John, fasten the chain. Give Skulker some
water, Jenny. To beard a magistrate in his stronghold, and on the
Sabbath, too! Where will their insolence stop? Oh, my dear Mary,
look here! Don't be afraid, it is but a boy - yet the villain
scowls so plainly in his face; would it not be a kindness to the
country to hang him at once, before he shows his nature in acts as
well as features?" He pulled me under the chandelier, and Mrs.
Linton placed her spectacles on her nose and raised her hands in
horror. The cowardly children crept nearer also, Isabella lisping
- "Frightful thing! Put him in the cellar, papa. He's exactly
like the son of the fortune-teller that stole my tame pheasant.
Isn't he, Edgar?"

'While they examined me, Cathy came round; she heard the last
speech, and laughed. Edgar Linton, after an inquisitive stare,
collected sufficient wit to recognise her. They see us at church,
you know, though we seldom meet them elsewhere. "That's Miss
Earnshaw?" he whispered to his mother, "and look how Skulker has
bitten her - how her foot bleeds!"

'"Miss Earnshaw? Nonsense!" cried the dame; "Miss Earnshaw
scouring the country with a gipsy! And yet, my dear, the child is
in mourning - surely it is - and she may be lamed for life!"

'"What culpable carelessness in her brother!" exclaimed Mr. Linton,
turning from me to Catherine. "I've understood from Shielders"'