Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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The winter has passed away and spring has come again.

All that remains of the much-dreaded Gregson is a few mouldering bones. His body was buried within the walls of the gaol, and the quick lime in the coffin has done its work.

Let us return to the scene of the opening chapters of our tale.

Oakfield House presents a charming picture of rustic beauty in the sweet spring time. In the yard there are milch cows and cart horses, with fowls fluttering, chirping, and pecking.

Stables and barns with tiled and slated roofs, and strong oaken doors through which as they stand ajar, one can see the busy shirt sleeves of the labourer.

A blue river and a long line of willows, a fine view of the arable country—​chalk hills and clay valleys—​an orchard with a great stone pigeon-house rising from the midst and towering over all the trees. A rookery which is silent, for all the birds are feeding in the fields, and a little hamlet in the distance seen here and there between the leaves.