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stories by modern american authors-第98章

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at the door; to give one long shuddering gaze; that seemed almost

to penetrate the mystery of the black veil。  But; even amid his

grief; Mr。 Hooper smiled to think that only a material emblem had

separated him from happiness; though the horrors; which it

shadowed forth; must be drawn darkly between the fondest of

lovers。



From that time no attempts were made to remove Mr。 Hooper's black

veil; or; by a direct appeal; to discover the secret which it was

supposed to hide。  By persons who claimed a superiority to popular

prejudice; it was reckoned merely an eccentric whim; such as

often mingles with the sober actions of men otherwise rational;

and tinges them all with its own semblance of insanity。  But with

the multitude; good Mr。 Hooper was irreparably a bugbear。  He could

not walk the street with any peace of mind; so conscious was he

that the gentle and timid would turn aside to avoid him; and that

others would make it a point of hardihood to throw themselves in

his way。  The impertinence of the latter class compelled him to

give up his customary walk at sunset to the burial ground; for

when he leaned pensively over the gate; there would always be

faces behind the gravestones; peeping at his black veil。  A fable

went the rounds that the stare of the dead people drove him

thence。  It grieved him; to the very depth of his kind heart; to

observe how the children fled from his approach; breaking up

their merriest sports; while his melancholy figure was yet afar

off。  Their instinctive dread caused him to feel more strongly

than aught else; that a preternatural horror was interwoven with

the threads of the black crape。  In truth; his own antipathy to

the veil was known to be so great; that he never willingly passed

before a mirror; nor stooped to drink at a still fountain; lest;

in its peaceful bosom; he should be affrighted by himself。  This

was what gave plausibility to the whispers; that Mr。 Hooper's

conscience tortured him for some great crime too horrible to be

entirely concealed; or otherwise than so obscurely intimated。

Thus; from beneath the black veil; there rolled a cloud into the

sunshine; an ambiguity of sin or sorrow; which enveloped the poor

minister; so that love or sympathy could never reach him。  It was

said that ghost and fiend consorted with him there。  With

self…shudderings and outward terrors; he walked continually in

its shadow; groping darkly within his own soul; or gazing through

a medium that saddened the whole world。  Even the lawless wind; it

was believed; respected his dreadful secret; and never blew aside

the veil。  But still good Mr。 Hooper sadly smiled at the pale

visages of the worldly throng as he passed by。



Among all its bad influences; the black veil had the one

desirable effect; of making its wearer a very efficient

clergyman。  By the aid of his mysterious emblemfor there was no

other apparent causehe became a man of awful power over souls

that were in agony for sin。  His converts always regarded him with

a dread peculiar to themselves; affirming; though but

figuratively; that; before he brought them to celestial light;

they had been with him behind the black veil。  Its gloom; indeed;

enabled him to sympathize with all dark affections。  Dying sinners

cried aloud for Mr。 Hooper; and would not yield their breath till

he appeared; though ever; as he stooped to whisper consolation;

they shuddered at the veiled face so near their own。  Such were

the terrors of the black veil; even when Death had bared his

visage!  Strangers came long distances to attend service at his

church; with the mere idle purpose of gazing at his figure;

because it was forbidden them to behold his face。  But many were

made to quake ere they departed!  Once; during Governor Belcher's

administration; Mr。 Hooper was appointed to preach the election

sermon。  Covered with his black veil; he stood before the chief

magistrate; the council; and the representatives; and wrought so

deep an impression; that the legislative measures of that year

were characterized by all the gloom and piety of our earliest

ancestral sway。



In this manner Mr。 Hooper spent a long life; irreproachable in

outward act; yet shrouded in dismal suspicions; kind and loving;

though unloved; and dimly feared; a man apart from men; shunned

in their health and joy; but ever summoned to their aid in mortal

anguish。  As years wore on; shedding their snows above his sable

veil; he acquired a name throughout the New England churches; and

they called him Father Hooper。  Nearly all his parishioners; who

were of mature age when he was settled; had been borne away by

many a funeral: he had one congregation in the church; and a more

crowded one in the churchyard; and having wrought so late into

the evening; and done his work so well; it was now good Father

Hooper's turn to rest。



Several persons were visible by the shaded candlelight; in the

death chamber of the old clergyman。  Natural connections he had

none。  But there was the decorously grave; though unmoved

physician; seeking only to mitigate the last pangs of the patient

whom he could not save。  There were the deacons; and other

eminently pious members of his church。  There; also; was the

Reverend Mr。 Clark; of Westbury; a young and zealous divine; who

had ridden in haste to pray by the bedside of the expiring

minister。  There was the nurse; no hired handmaiden of death; but

one whose calm affection had endured thus long in secrecy; in

solitude; amid the chill of age; and would not perish; even at

the dying hour。  Who; but Elizabeth!  And there lay the hoary head

of good Father Hooper upon the death pillow; with the black veil

still swathed about his brow; and reaching down over his face; so

that each more difficult gasp of his faint breath caused it to

stir。  All through life that piece of crape had hung between him

and the world: it had separated him from cheerful brotherhood and

woman's love; and kept him in that saddest of all prisons; his

own heart; and still it lay upon his face; as if to deepen the

gloom of his darksome chamber; and shade him from the sunshine of

eternity。



For some time previous; his mind had been confused; wavering

doubtfully between the past and the present; and hovering

forward; as it were; at intervals; into the indistinctness of the

world to come。  There had been feverish turns; which tossed him

from side to side; and wore away what little strength he had。  But

in his most convulsive struggles; and in the wildest vagaries of

his intellect; when no other thought retained its sober

influence; he still showed an awful solicitude lest the black

veil should slip aside。  Even if his bewildered soul could have

forgotten; there was a faithful woman at this pillow; who; with

averted eyes; would have covered that aged face; which she had

last beheld in the comeliness of manhood。  At length the

death…stricken old man lay quietly in the torpor of mental and

bodily 
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