Walter Scott,
Waverley Novels — Volume 12
“ A deep growl from the monster which garrisoned his apartment was the only answer. The sound seemed to say, "Thou hast no hope!" and it ran to the knight's bosom as the genuine expression of despair."Perhaps, however, I am still too cold in making my misery known. What ho! my love! Brenhilda!"A voice, hollow and disconsolate as that which might have served an inhabitant of the grave, answered as if from a distance. "What disconsolate wretch art thou, who expectest that the living can answer thee from the habitations of the dead?" ”
