“Ha! ha!” laughed John, chucking his prim wife under the chin, “you did not say that to me when I stole your first kiss under that very pollard tree—no house near it then!” “Hush, John, hush!” and the prim wife blushed like a girl. “Pooh,” continued John merrily, “I don’t see why we plain folks should pretend to be more saintly and prudish-like than our betters. There’s that handsome Miss Leslie, who is to marry Mr Egerton—easy enough to see how much she is in love with him—could not keep her eyes off from him even in church, old girl? Ha, ha! What the deuce is the matter with the ravens?” “They’ll be a comely couple, John. And I hear tell she has a power of money. When is the marriage to be?” “Oh, they say as soon as the election is over. A fine wedding we shall have of it! I dare say my young lord will be bridesman. We’ll send for our little Nora to see the gay doings!” Out from the boughs of the old tree came the shriek of a lost spirit—one of those strange appalling sounds of human agony, which, once heard, are never forgotten. It is as the wail of Hope, when SHE, too, rushes forth from the coffer of woes, and vanishes into viewless space;—it is the dread cry of Reason parting from clay—and of Soul, that would wrench itself from life! For a moment all was still—and then a dull, dumb, heavy fall! The parents gazed on each other, speechless: they stole close to the pales, and looked over. Under the boughs, at the gnarled roots of the oak, they saw—grey and indistinct—a prostrate form. John opened the gate, and went round; the mother crept to the roadside, and there stood still. “Oh, wife, wife!” cried John Avenel, from under the green boughs, “it is our child Nora! Our child—our child!” And, as he spoke, out from the green boughs started the dark ravens, wheeling round and around, and calling to their young! * * * * * And when they had laid her on the bed, Mrs Avenel whispered John to withdraw for a moment; and, with set lips but trembling hands, began to unlace the dress, under the pressure of which Nora’s heart heaved convulsively. And John went out of the room bewildered, and sate himself down on the landing-place, and wondered whether he was awake or sleeping; and a cold numbness crept over one side of him, and his head felt very heavy, with a loud booming noise in his ears. Suddenly his wife stood by his side, and said in a very low voice— “John, run for Mr Morgan—make haste. But mind—don’t speak to any one on the way. Quick, quick!” “Is she dying?” “I don’t know. Why not die before?” said Mrs Avenel between her teeth. “But Mr Morgan is a discreet, friendly man.” “A true Blue!” muttered poor John, as if his mind wandered; and rising with difficulty, he stared at his wife a moment, shook his head, and was gone.