Devotion Page #3

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than I expected. Sit down.

Now.

I understand from his Lordship,

you were educated abroad.

Well, I shall not hold that

against you .. but remember.

No fancy foreign airs here.

We have some pretty rough

customers in this parish.

Who are not to be charmed

into a state of grace.

Would you care for a pipe?

Am I being tested, sir?

I've no use for a man without a vice.

A small one preferably.

It supports his character.

Thank you, sir.

And I dare say the large vices

support the church, don't they?

Very good Mr Nicholls.

I am happy to find you

possessed of a sense of humour.

Ah, Emily. Did they get off alright?

Yes, Papa.

This is Mr Nicholls who's come to

assist me in the care of the parish.

My daughter, Emily.

Why, how do you do?

Good morning.

You will stay to luncheon of

course my dear Nicholls?

Yes thank you, sir.

Sorry you didn't arrive earlier.

You'd have met my son.

He left for London this morning

to make his place in the world.

I think you'd have got on with him.

Do you think Mr Nicholls would have found

much in common with Branwell, Emily?

I'm sure he would, Papa.

Would you take a glass

of wine, Mr Nicholls?

No thank you. I never

touch it before sundown.

You will be pleased to hear that the sun

sets early in these parts Mr Nicholls.

Emily.

I hope they looked after you well

at The Bull last night, Mr Nicholls.

Oh yes, thank you.

The hospitality of The Bull

left nothing to be desired.

Yes. The Bull is noted

for its hospitality.

I'm sure you felt at home there

immediately, Mr Nicholls.

Not immediately, Miss Bront.

I was called upon to take up my duties as

a Curate rather sooner than I'd expected.

Oh, indeed?

One of your parishioners, who

had indulged rather freely.

Seemed in sore need of an

escort for his homeward journey.

I hadn't the heart to refuse him.

But it proved to be a very thankless task.

Ruffians like that should be left

to find their own way home.

You can be sure, Mr Nicholls ..

That your thoughtfulness was appreciated.

This is where Charlotte and I used

to come when we were children.

To see who could pick the most

blackberries for Tabby's pies.

Poor Charlotte.

She must be absolutely

wretched at Stone Gap.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sure I talk far too

much about my family.

No. I like to hear you talk about them.

It helps me to know you better.

That's a reward in itself.

Thank you.

Well, come along Mr Nicholls.

Between us we haven't picked enough

to make even one pie for poor old Tabby.

I'm not really lazy you know. But so far

I've seen very few blackberries to pick.

I can't understand it. Last year

was a very good season.

Why don't we sit down and

wait until next season?

Oh, you'll never last until then.

Last?

What I mean is .. no Curate has

ever stayed very long at Haworth.

It's too quiet and dull here, even for ..

Even for a Curate?

Well, Miss Emily.

Here is one Curate who is

asking for nothing better ..

Than to see many a season at Haworth.

Provided, of course ..

What?

That you promise to stay

and see them with me.

I promise.

Well, back home to Tabby.

Come on Keeper, come on boy.

Where is Emily?

She's assisting Mr Nicholls

with the Sunday School class.

Uhuh.

May I ask the significance of

that grunt, Miss Branwell?

Emily is full of good works

these days. Is she not?

You've never brought me this way before.

I never bring anyone this way.

Not even your brother and sisters?

Oh no .. they don't like this

part of the moor at all.

They think it is ugly.

It is a rather lonely place

here I suppose but ..

I don't mind that.

Why should you? You belong here.

You don't think it is ugly,

do you, Mr Nicholls?

There could never be anything

ugly about your world, Miss Emily.

But I do feel somewhat of a trespasser.

Oh, no you're not. That's

why I brought you here.

Knowing you is a rare privilege.

Thank you, Mr Nicholls.

That's what I wanted to show you.

Not quite what dreams

are made of, is it.

But it's been in mine ever

since I can remember.

A strange, awesome-looking place.

It's the place I write about.

And even though it is

grey and storm-swept.

And made for strange,

unyielding people.

The lovely things are all the lovelier.

Who lives there?

Ghosts.

You don't really believe

in ghosts, do you?

Oh yes. I've both seen and heard them.

They are in my dreams sometimes.

It seems that I stand

here, just at this spot.

Watching that house in

the silence of the night.

And then, suddenly I ..

I hear a sound that terrifies me.

The beating of the horse's hooves

coming nearer and nearer.

And I turn and ..

And here comes a great,

black horse and a dark rider.

And he thunders down on me.

I cannot move.

What does he look like?

I've never seen his face.

For a minute, you had me

believing your strange fancies.

There, Mr Nicholls you see.

When I'm with you, my dreadful nightmare

turns out to be one of our moor horses.

Well, it's getting late.

Shall we be on our way?

Come on, then.

What's the name of that place?

I call it "Wuthering Heights".

How happy you look, Emily.

I think you must have

anticipated my homecoming.

Well, is there no greeting

for the prodigal?

Branwell .. what brings you home?

It seems that London has

treated Branwell shamefully.

Yes, Emily.

You might have acquainted yourself

more with the ways of that loveless city.

Before you threw me

into its chill embrace.

It is a city of Philistines.

No success without influence.

No admission without patronage.

No patronage without toadying.

You wanted this to happen, Emily.

You and Charlotte and Anne.

One more rival out of the way.

It leaves a clearer field, doesn't it.

Soon you'll find that three is a crowd.

Then you'll cut each other's throats.

I don't believe what I'm saying.

Forgive me.

What shall I do with him, Emily?

What shall I do?

It's no use looking to Emily.

Her only concern is

with Miss Emily Bront.

Thank God Charlotte will be home in

a few days. She'll think of something.

She always does.

If there is a better ironed petticoat

at Thornton Hall tonight ..

Oh, it's really beautiful, Anne.

Do you think I might wear

it instead of my dress, Aunt?

A high time to jest on such matters.

Oh, on our first night at home it is

permissible to jest about anything.

What have you got in that

mysterious box, Emily?

Flowers for the fair, my dear.

For Charlotte .. for Anne.

And for Emily.

Oh, Emily. You think of everything.

You've made them beautifully.

This is my first happy day for months.

I shall record the fact

instantly in my diary.

How many copybooks

did you fill at Stone Gap?

Six at least.

But it would take a good dozen to

properly describe that horrid household.

Anne only managed to fill three.

That is only because my

penmanship is smaller.

I was every bit as unhappy

as Charlotte. I assure you.

I think it's very shocking of you both

to pry into the affairs of a family.

It's wicked enough to tackle

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