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Chapter 28

On the fifth morning, or rather afternoon, a different step
approached--lighter and shorter--and, this time, the
person entered the room. It was Zillah; donned in her
scarlet shawl, with a black silk bonnet on her head, and a willow
basket swung to her arm.

“Eh, dear! Mrs. Dean,” she exclaimed. “Well! there is a talk
about you at Gimmerton. I never thought you were sunk in the
Blackhorse marsh, and Missy with you, till master told me you’d
been found, and he’d lodged you here! What, and you must have
got on an island, sure? And how long were you in the hole? Did
master save you, Mrs. Dean? But you’re not so thin--you’ve not
been so poorly, have you?”

“Your master is a true scoundrel!” I replied. “But he shall
answer for it. He needn’t have raised that tale; it shall all be laid

“What do you mean?” asked Zillah. “It’s not his tale; they tell
that in the village--about your being lost in the marsh; and I calls
to Earnshaw, when I came in--‘Eh, they’s queer things, Mr.
Hareton, happened since I went off. It’s a sad pity of that likely
young lass, and cant Nelly Dean.’ He stared. I thought he had not
heard aught, so I told him the rumour.

“The master listened, and he just smiled to himself, and said, ‘If
they have been in the marsh, they are out now, Zillah. Nelly Dean
is lodged, at this minute, in your room. You can tell her to flit,
when you go up; here is the key. The bog-water got into her head,
and she would have run home quite flighty, but I fixed her, till she
came round to her senses. You can bid her go to the Grange at

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