Summer was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded his assent to their entreaties, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride to join her cousin.

It was a close, sultry day: devoid of sunshine, but with a sky too dappled and hazy to threaten rain: and our place of meeting had been fixed at the guide-stone, by the cross-roads.

On arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, despatched as a messenger, told us that,--'Maister Linton wer just o' this side th' Heights: and he'd be mitch obleeged to us to gang on a bit further.' 'Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle,' I observed: 'he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are off at once.' 'Well, we'll turn our horses' heads round when we reach him,' answered my companion; 'our excursion shall lie towards home.' But when we reached him, and that was scarcely a quarter of a mile from his own door, we found he had no horse; and we were forced to dismount, and leave ours to graze.

He lay on the heath, awaiting our approach, and did not rise till we came within a few yards.

Then he walked so feebly, and looked so pale, that I immediately exclaimed,--'Why, Master Heathcliff, you are not fit for enjoying a ramble this morning.