“A strong wind sang sadly as it bent the trees in front of the Hall. A half moon shone through the dark, flying clouds on to the wild and empty moor.”

“The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds are flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us; but, so far we are pursued by nothing else.”

“There, on our favourite seat, the silver light of the moon struck a half-reclining figure, snowy white... something dark stood behind the seat where the white figure shone, and bent over it. What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell.”

“The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,And the highwayman came riding--Riding--riding--The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.”

“You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.”

“And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.”