"Friend," said the other, exchanging his slow pace for a full stop,"having kept covenant by meeting thee here, it is my purpose now toreturn whence I came. I have scruples, touching the matter thou wot'stof.""Sayest thou so?" replied he of the serpent, smiling apart. "Let uswalk on, nevertheless, reasoning as we go, and if I convince thee not,thou shalt turn back. We are but a little way in the forest, yet.""Too far, too far!" exclaimed the goodman, unconsciously resuminghis walk. "My father never went into the woods on such an errand,nor his father before him. We have been a race of honest men andgood Christians, since the days of the martyrs. And shall I be thefirst of the name of Brown, that ever took this path and kept"-"Such company, thou wouldst say," observed the elder person,interrupting his pause. "Well said, Goodman Brown! I have been as wellacquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; andthat's no trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable,when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets ofSalem. And it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot,kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in KingPhilip's War. They were my good friends, both; and many a pleasantwalk have we had along this path, and returned merrily after midnight.
I would fain be friends with you, for their sake.""If it be as thou sayest," replied Goodman Brown, "I marvel theynever spoke of these matters. Or, verily, I marvel not, seeing thatthe least rumor of the sort would have driven them from New England.
We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no suchwickedness.""Wickedness or not," said the traveller with the twisted staff,have a very general acquaintance here in New England. The deacons ofmany a church have drunk the communion wine with me; the selectmen, ofdivers towns, make me their chairman; and a majority of the Greatand General Court are firm supporters of my interest. The governor andI, too- but these are state-secrets.""Can this be so!" cried Goodman Brown, with a stare of amazement athis undisturbed companion. "Howbeit, I have nothing to do with thegovernor and council; they have their own ways, and are no rule fora simple husbandman like me. But, were I to go on with thee, howshould I meet the eye of that good old man, our minister, at Salemvillage? Oh, his voice would make me tremble, both Sabbath-day andlecture-day!"Thus far, the elder traveller had listened with due gravity, butnow burst into a fit of irrepressible mirth, shaking himself soviolently that his snake-like staff actually seemed to wriggle insympathy.
"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted he, again and again; then composinghimself, "Well, go on, Goodman Brown, go on; but, prithee, don'tkill me with laughing!""Well, then, to end the matter at once," said Goodman Brown,considerably nettled, "there is my wife, Faith. It would break herdear little heart; and I'd rather break my own!""Nay, if that be the case," answered the other, "e'en go thyways, Goodman Brown. I would not, for twenty old women like the onehobbling before us, that Faith should come to any harm."As he spoke, he pointed his staff at a female figure on the path,in whom Goodman Brown recognized a very pious and exemplary dame,who had taught him his catechism in youth, and was still his moral andspiritual adviser, jointly with the minister and Deacon Gookin.
"A marvel, truly, that Goody Cloyse should be so far in thewilderness, at night-fall!" said he. "But, with your leave, friend,I shall take a cut through the woods, until we have left thisChristian woman behind. Being a stranger to you, she might ask whomI was consorting with, and whither I was going.""Be it so," said his fellow-traveller. "Betake you to the woods,and let me keep the path."Accordingly, the young man turned aside, but took care to watch hiscompanion, who advanced softly along the road, until he had comewithin a staff's length of the old dame. She, meanwhile, was makingthe best of her way, with singular speed for so aged a woman, andmumbling some indistinct words, a prayer, doubtless, as she went.
The traveller put forth his staff, and touched her withered neckwith what seemed the serpent's tail.
"The devil!" screamed the pious old lady.
"Then Goody Cloyse knows her old friend?" observed the traveller,confronting her, and leaning on his writhing stick.
"Ah, forsooth, and is it your worship, indeed?" cried the gooddame. "Yea, truly is it, and in the very image of my old gossip,Goodman Brown, the grandfather of the silly fellow that now is. But,would your worship believe it? my broomstick hath strangelydisappeared, stolen, as I suspect, by that unhanged witch, Goody Cory,and that, too, when I was all anointed with the juice of smallageand cinque-foil and wolf's-bane"-"Mingled with fine wheat and the fat of a new-born babe," saidthe shape of old Goodman Brown.
"Ah, your worship knows the recipe," cried the old lady, cacklingaloud. "So, as I was saying, being all ready for the meeting, and nohorse to ride on, I made up my mind to foot it; for they tell me,there is a nice young man to be taken into communion tonight. Butnow your good worship will lend me your arm, and we shall be therein a twinkling.""That can hardly be," answered her friend. "I may not spare youmy arm, Goody Cloyse, but here is my staff, if you will."So saying, he threw it down at her feet, where, perhaps, it assumedlife, being one of the rods which its owner had formerly lent toEgyptian Magi. Of this fact, however, Goodman Brown could not takecognizance. He had cast up his eyes in astonishment, and lookingdown again, beheld neither Goody Cloyse nor the serpentine staff,but his fellow-traveller alone, who waited for him as calmly as ifnothing had happened.
"That old woman taught me my catechism!" said the young man; andthere was a world of meaning in this simple comment.
