"By this time Urquhart and his bride had reached the door. He was still gay and she was still quiet. But in her eye glistened a tear, while in his there gleamed nothing softer than that vague spark of triumph which one might expect to see in a man who had just married the richest heiress in Albany.
"'Good-by! good-by! good-by!' came in soft tones from her lips; and she was just stepping over the threshold, when there suddenly appeared at the foot of the steps an old crone, so seamed and bowed with age, so weird and threatening of aspect, that we all started back appalled, and were about to draw Mrs. Urquhart out of her path, when the unknown creature raised her voice, and pointing with one skinny hand straight into the bride's face, shrieked:
"'Beware of oak walls! Beware of oak walls! They are more dangerous to you than fire and water! Beware of oak walls!'
"A shriek interrupted her. It came, not from the bride, but from the interior of the well-nigh forsaken hall behind us.
"Instantly the old crone drew herself up into an attitude more threatening and more terrible than before.
"'And you,' she cried, pointing now beyond us toward a figure which I could feel shrinking in inexplicable terror against the wall. 'And you cannot trust them either! There is death within oak walls. Beware! beware!'
"A curse, a rush, and Edwin Urquhart had flung himself at the old witch's throat. But he fell to the pavement without touching her. With the utterance of her last word, she had slipped from before our eyes and melted into the crowd which curiosity and interest had drawn within the gates, to watch this young couple's departure.
"'Who was that creature? Let me have her! Give her up, I say!' leaped from the infuriated bridegroom's lips, as he rushed up and down before the crowd with threatening arms and flashing eyes.