Higginbotham's character and habits of life; and that he had anorchard, and a St. Michael's pear-tree, near which he always passed atnightfall: the circumstantial evidence appeared so strong thatDominicus doubted whether the autograph produced by the lawyer, oreven the niece's direct testimony, ought to be equivalent. Makingcautious inquiries along the road, the pedlar further learned that Mr.
Higginbotham had in his service an Irishman of doubtful character,whom he had hired without a recommendation, on the score of economy.
"May I be hanged myself," exclaimed Dominicus Pike aloud, onreaching the top of a lonely hill, "if I'll believe old Higginbothamis unhanged till I see him with my own eyes, and hear it from hisown mouth! And as he's a real shaver, I'll have the minister or someother responsible man for an indorser."It was growing dusk when he reached the toll-house on Kimballtonturnpike, about a quarter of a mile from the village of this name. Hislittle mare was fast bringing him up with a man on horseback, whotrotted through the gate a few rods in advance of him, nodded to thetoll-gatherer, and kept on towards the village. Dominicus wasacquainted with the tollman, and, while making change, the usualremarks on the weather passed between them.
"I suppose," said the pedlar, throwing back his whiplash, tobring it down like a feather on the mare's flank, "you have not seenanything of old Mr. Higginbotham within a day or two?""Yes, answered the toll-gatherer. "He passed the gate just beforeyou drove up, and yonder he rides now, if you can see him throughthe dusk. He's been to Woodfield this afternoon, attending a sheriff'ssale there. The old man generally shakes hands and has a little chatwith me; but tonight, he nodded- as if to say, 'Charge my toll,' andjogged on; for wherever he goes, he must always be at home by eighto'clock.""So they tell me," said Dominicus.
"I never saw a man look so yellow and thin as the squire does,"continued the toll-gatherer. "Says I to myself, tonight, he's morelike a ghost or an old mummy than good flesh and blood."The pedlar strained his eyes through the twilight, and could justdiscern the horseman now far ahead on the village road. He seemed torecognize the rear of Mr. Higginbotham; but through the eveningshadows, and amid the dust from the horse's feet, the figureappeared dim and unsubstantial; as if the shape of the mysteriousold man were faintly moulded of darkness and gray light. Dominicusshivered.
"Mr. Higginbotham has come back from the other world, by way of theKimballton turnpike," thought he.
He shook the reins and rode forward, keeping about the samedistance in the rear of the gray old shadow, till the latter wasconcealed by a bend of the road. On reaching this point, the pedlar nolonger saw the man on horseback, but found himself at the head ofthe village street, not far from a number of stores and two taverns,clustered round the meeting-house steeple. On his left were a stonewall and a gate, the boundary of a wood-lot, beyond which lay anorchard, farther still, a mowing field, and last of all, a house.
These were the premises of Mr. Higginbotham, whose dwelling stoodbeside the old highway, but had been left in the background by theKimballton turnpike. Dominicus knew the place; and the little marestopped short by instinct; for he was not conscious of tighteningthe reins.
"For the soul of me, I cannot get by this gate!" said he,trembling. "I never shall be my own man again, till I see whetherMr. Higginbotham is hanging on the St. Michael's pear-tree!"He leaped from the cart, gave the rein a turn round the gatepost, and ran along the green path of the wood-lot as if Old Nick werechasing behind. Just then the village clock tolled eight, and aseach deep stroke fell, Dominicus gave a fresh bound and flew fasterthan before, till, dim in the solitary centre of the orchard, he sawthe fated pear-tree. One great branch stretched from the old contortedtrunk across the path, and threw the darkest shadow on that onespot. But something seemed to struggle beneath the branch!
The pedlar had never pretended to more courage than befits a man ofpeaceable occupation, nor could he account for his valor on this awfulemergency. Certain it is, however, that he rushed forward,prostrated a sturdy Irishman with the butt end of his whip, and found-not indeed hanging on the St. Michael's pear-tree, but tremblingbeneath it, with a halter round his neck- the old, identical Mr.
Higginbotham!
"Mr. Higginbotham," said Dominicus tremulously, "you're an honestman, and I'll take your word for it. Have you been hanged or not?"If the riddle be not already guessed, a few words will explainthe simple machinery by which this "coming event" was made to "castits shadow before." Three men had plotted the robbery and murder ofMr. Higginbotham; two of them, successively, lost courage and fled,each delaying the crime one night by their disappearance; the thirdwas in the act of perpetration, when a champion, blindly obeying thecall of fate, like the heroes of old romance, appeared in the personof Dominicus Pike.
It only remains to say, that Mr. Higginbotham took the pedlarinto high favor, sanctioned his addresses to the prettyschoolmistress, and settled his whole property on their children,allowing themselves the interest. In due time, the old gentlemancapped the climax of his favors, by dying a Christian death, in bed,since which melancholy event Dominicus Pike has removed fromKimballton, and established a large tobacco manufactory in my nativevillage.
THE END
.
1832
TWICE-TOLD TALES
MY KINSMAN, MAJOR MOLINEUX
by Nathaniel Hawthorne
