'Look at him!' said Varden, divided between admiration of the bird and a
kind of fear of him. 'Was there ever such a knowing imp as that! Oh he's
a dreadful fellow!'

The raven, with his head very much on one side, and his bright eye
shining like a diamond, preserved a thoughtful silence for a few
seconds, and then replied in a voice so hoarse and distant, that it
seemed to come through his thick feathers rather than out of his mouth.

'Halloa, halloa, halloa! What's the matter here! Keep up your spirits.
Never say die. Bow wow wow. I'm a devil, I'm a devil, I'm a devil.
Hurrah!'--And then, as if exulting in his infernal character, he began
to whistle.

'I more than half believe he speaks the truth. Upon my word I do,'
said Varden. 'Do you see how he looks at me, as if he knew what I was
saying?'

To which the bird, balancing himself on tiptoe, as it were, and moving
his body up and down in a sort of grave dance, rejoined, 'I'm a devil,
I'm a devil, I'm a devil,' and flapped his wings against his sides as
if he were bursting with laughter. Barnaby clapped his hands, and fairly
rolled upon the ground in an ecstasy of delight.

'Strange companions, sir,' said the locksmith, shaking his head, and
looking from one to the other. 'The bird has all the wit.'

'Strange indeed!' said Edward, holding out his forefinger to the raven,
who, in acknowledgment of the attention, made a dive at it immediately