'What dark history is this!' 'Halloa!' cried a hoarse voice in his ear.

'Halloa, halloa, halloa! Bow wow wow.

What's the matter here! Hal-loa!' The speaker--who made the locksmith start as if he had been some supernatural agent--was a large raven, who had perched upon the top of the easy-chair, unseen by him and Edward, and listened with a polite attention and a most extraordinary appearance of comprehending every word, to all they had said up to this point; turning his head from one to the other, as if his office were to judge between them, and it were of the very last importance that he should not lose a word.
'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.