They continued to walk onward, while the elder traveller exhortedhis companion to make good speed and persevere in the path,discoursing so aptly, that his arguments seemed rather to spring up inthe bosom of his auditor, than to be suggested by himself. As theywent, he plucked a branch of maple, to serve for a walking-stick,and began to strip it of the twigs and little boughs, which were wetwith evening dew. The moment his fingers touched them, they becamestrangely withered and dried up, as with a week's sunshine. Thus thepair proceeded, at a good free pace, until suddenly, in a gloomyhollow of the road, Goodman Brown sat himself down on the stump of atree, and refused to go any farther.
"Friend," said he, stubbornly, "my mind is made up. Not anotherstep will I budge on this errand. What if a wretched old woman dochoose to go to the devil, when I thought she was going to Heaven!
Is that any reason why I should quit my dear Faith, and go after her?""You will think better of this by-and-by," said his acquaintance,composedly. "Sit here and rest yourself awhile; and when you feel likemoving again, there is my staff to help you along."Without more words, he threw his companion the maple stick, and wasas speedily out of sight as if he had vanished into the deepeninggloom. The young man sat a few moments by the road-side, applaudinghimself greatly, and thinking with how clear a conscience he shouldmeet the minister, in his morning-walk, nor shrink from the eye ofgood old Deacon Gookin. And what calm sleep would be his, that verynight, which was to have been spent so wickedly, but purely andsweetly now, in the arms of Faith! Amidst these pleasant andpraiseworthy meditations, Goodman Brown heard the tramp of horsesalong the road, and deemed it advisable to conceal himself withinthe verge of the forest, conscious of the guilty purpose that hadbrought him thither, though now so happily turned from it.
On came the hoof-tramps and the voices of the riders, two grave oldvoices, conversing soberly as they drew near. These mingled soundsappeared to pass along the road, within a few yards of the young man'shiding-place; but owing, doubtless, to the depth of the gloom, at thatparticular spot, neither the travellers nor their steeds were visible.
Though their figures brushed the small boughs by the way-side, itcould not be seen that they intercepted, even for a moment, thefaint gleam from the strip of bright sky, athwart which they must havepassed. Goodman Brown alternately crouched and stood on tip-toe,pulling aside the branches, and thrusting forth his head as far ashe durst, without discerning so much as a shadow. It vexed him themore, because he could have sworn, were such a thing possible, that herecognized the voices of the minister and Deacon Gookin, jogging alongquietly, as they were wont to do, when bound to some ordination orecclesiastical council. While yet within hearing, one of the ridersstopped to pluck a switch.
"Of the two, reverend Sir," said the voice like the deacon's, I hadrather miss an ordination-dinner than tonight's meeting. They tellme that some of our community are to be here from Falmouth and beyond,and others from Connecticut and Rhode Island; besides several of theIndian powows, who, after their fashion, know almost as muchdeviltry as the best of us. Moreover, there is a goodly young woman tobe taken into communion.""Mighty well, Deacon Gookin!" replied the solemn old tones of theminister. "Spur up, or we shall be late. Nothing can be done, youknow, until I get on the ground."The hoofs clattered again, and the voices, talking so strangelyin the empty air, passed on through the forest, where no church hadever been gathered, nor solitary Christian prayed. Whither, then,could these holy men be journeying, so deep into the heathenwilderness? Young Goodman Brown caught hold of a tree, for support,being ready to sink down on the ground, faint and overburthened withthe heavy sickness of his heart. He looked up to the sky, doubtingwhether there really was a Heaven above him. Yet, there was the bluearch, and the stars brightening in it.
"With Heaven above, and Faith below, I will yet stand firmagainst the devil!" cried Goodman Brown.
While he still gazed upward, into the deep arch of the firmament,and had lifted his hands to pray, a cloud, though no wind wasstirring, hurried across the zenith, and hid the brightening stars.
The blue sky was still visible, except directly overhead, where thisblack mass of cloud was sweeping swiftly northward. Aloft in theair, as if from the depths of the cloud, came a confused anddoubtful sound of voices. Once, the listener fancied that he coulddistinguish the accent of townspeople of his own, men and women,both pious and ungodly, many of whom he had met at thecommunion-table, and had seen others rioting at the tavern. The nextmoment, so indistinct were the sounds, he doubted whether he had heardaught but the murmur of the old forest, whispering without a wind.
Then came a stronger swell of those familiar tones, heard daily in thesunshine, at Salem village, but never, until now, from a cloud ofnight. There was one voice, of a young woman, uttering lamentations,yet with an uncertain sorrow, and entreating for some favor, which,perhaps, it would grieve her to obtain. And all the unseenmultitude, both saints and sinners, seemed to encourage her onward.
"Faith!" shouted Goodman Brown, in a voice of agony anddesperation; and the echoes of the forest mocked him, crying-"Faith! Faith!" as if bewildered wretches were seeking her, allthrough the wilderness.
