The tender tear of joy; and hear that voice
Articulate the language of his choice:—
“Ah! Slash,”[236] he said, “I see the pale-blue smoke,
From the Lodge-chimney, ’scending through the oak.”
Five minutes more, the horses gently swerve,
And canter gracefully, around the curve,
Through the Lodge-gateway; there stood Hollybrand,
As meek as ever, with his hat in hand:
Arnold saluted him with right good will,—
“I’d hoped to ’ve seen you in at Ruttendell;