Wuthering Heights

They will live in the kitchen, and the rest will be shut up.«
    »For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it,« I observed.
    »No, Mr. Lockwood,« said Nelly, shaking her head. »I believe the dead are at peace, but it is not right to speak of them with levity.«
    At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning.
    »
They
are afraid of nothing,« I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. »Together they would brave satan and all his legions.«
    As they stepped onto the door-stones, and halted to take a last look at the moon, or, more correctly, at each other, by her light, I felt irresistibly impelled to escape them again; and, pressing a remembrance into the hand of Mrs. Dean, and disregarding her expostulations at my rudeness, I vanished through the kitchen, as they opened the house-door, and so, should have confirmed Joseph in his opinion on his fellow-servant's gay indiscretions, had he not, fortunately, recognized me for a respectable character, by the sweet ring of a sovereign at his feet.
    My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirk. When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months – many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off, here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms.
    I sought, and soon discovered, the three head-stones on the slope next the moor – the middle one, grey, and half buried in heath – Edgar Linton's only harmonized by the turf and moss, creeping up its foot – Heathcliff's still bare.
    I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath, and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.