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Updated: April 30, 2025
An old pollard-oak stood near it, and from the oak there came a low discordant sound; it was the hungry cry of young ravens, awaiting the belated return of the parent bird! Mr. Dale put his hand to his brow, paused a moment, and then, with a hurried step, passed through the little garden, and knocked at the door. A light was burning in the parlour, and Mr.
She pressed his hand with a convulsive grasp, and led him to the outer door. The postboy clanked his whip, the chaise rattled off. Leonard put his head out of the window to catch a last glimpse of the old woman; but the boughs of the pollard-oak, and its gnarled decaying trunk, hid her from his eye, and look as he would, till the road turned, he saw but the melancholy tree.
"You can get through the gap in the hedge, by the old pollard-oak," said Richard; "and come round by the front of the house. Why, you're not afraid, are you?" "I am a stranger." "Shall I introduce you? I told you that I knew the old couple." "Oh, no, sir! I would rather meet them alone." "Go; and wait a bit-hark ye, young man, Mrs. Avenel is a cold-mannered woman; but don't be abashed by that."
An old pollard-oak stood near it, and from the oak there came a low discordant sound; it was the hungry cry of young ravens, awaiting the belated return of the parent bird! Mr. Dale put his hand to his brow, paused a moment, and then, with a hurried step, passed through the little garden, and knocked at the door. A light was burning in the parlour, and Mr.
"You can get through the gap in the hedge, by the old pollard-oak," said Richard; "and come round by the front of the house. Why, you're not afraid, are you?" "I am a stranger." "Shall I introduce you? I told you that I knew the old couple." "Oh, no, sir! I would rather meet them alone." "Go; and wait a bit-hark ye, young man, Mrs. Avenel is a cold-mannered woman; but don't be abashed by that."
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