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death…stricken old man lay quietly in the torpor of mental and
bodily exhaustion； with an imperceptible pulse； and breath that
grew fainter and fainter； except when a long； deep； and irregular
inspiration seemed to prelude the flight of his spirit。
The minister of Westbury approached the bedside。
〃Venerable Father Hooper；〃 said he； 〃the moment of your release
is at hand。 Are you ready for the lifting of the veil that shuts
in time from eternity？〃
Father Hooper at first replied merely by a feeble motion of his
head； then； apprehensive； perhaps； that his meaning might be
doubted； he exerted himself to speak。
〃Yea；〃 said he； in faint accents； 〃my soul hath a patient
weariness until that veil be lifted。〃
〃And is it fitting；〃 resumed the Reverend Mr。 Clark； 〃that a man
so given to prayer； of such a blameless example； holy in deed and
thought； so far as mortal judgment may pronounce； is it fitting
that a father in the church should leave a shadow on his memory；
that may seem to blacken a life so pure？ I pray you； my venerable
brother； let not this thing be！ Suffer us to be gladdened by your
triumphant aspect as you go to your reward。 Before the veil of
eternity be lifted； let me cast aside this black veil from your
face！〃
And thus speaking； the Reverend Mr。 Clark bent forward to reveal
the mystery of so many years。 But； exerting a sudden energy； that
made all the beholders stand aghast； Father Hooper snatched both
his hands from beneath the bedclothes； and pressed them strongly
on the black veil； resolute to struggle； if the minister of
Westbury would contend with a dying man。
〃Never！〃 cried the veiled clergyman。 〃On earth； never！〃
〃Dark old man！〃 exclaimed the affrighted minister； 〃with what
horrible crime upon your soul are you now passing to the
judgment？〃
Father Hooper's breath heaved； it rattled in his throat； but；
with a mighty effort； grasping forward with his hands； he caught
hold of life； and held it back till he should speak。 He even
raised himself in bed； and there he sat； shivering with the arms
of death around him； while the black veil hung down； awful； at
that last moment； in the gathered terrors of a lifetime。 And yet
the faint； sad smile； so often there； now seemed to glimmer from
its obscurity； and linger on Father Hooper's lips。
〃Why do you tremble at me alone？〃 cried he； turning his veiled
face round the circle of pale spectators。 〃Tremble also at each
other！ Have men avoided me； and women shown no pity； and children
screamed and fled； only for my black veil？ What； but the mystery
which it obscurely typifies； has made this piece of crape so
awful？ When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend； the
lover to his best beloved； when man does not vainly shrink from
the eye of his Creator； loathsomely treasuring up the secret of
his sin； then deem me a monster； for the symbol beneath which I
have lived； and die！ I look around me； and； lo！ on every visage a
Black Veil！〃
While his auditors shrank from one another； in mutual affright；
Father Hooper fell back upon his pillow； a veiled corpse； with a
faint smile lingering on the lips。 Still veiled； they laid him in
his coffin； and a veiled corpse they bore him to the grave。 The
grass of many years has sprung up and withered on that grave； the
burial stone is moss…grown； and good Mr。 Hooper's face is dust；
but awful is still the thought that it mouldered beneath the
Black Veil！
Anonymous
Horror： A True Tale
I was but nineteen years of age when the incident occurred which
has thrown a shadow over my life； and； ah me！ how many and many a
weary year has dragged by since then！ Young； happy； and beloved I
was in those long…departed days。 They said that I was beautiful。
The mirror now reflects a haggard old woman； with ashen lips and
face of deadly pallor。 But do not fancy that you are listening to
a mere puling lament。 It is not the flight of years that has
brought me to be this wreck of my former self： had it been so I
could have borne the loss cheerfully； patiently； as the common lot
of all； but it was no natural progress of decay which has robbed me
of bloom； of youth； of the hopes and joys that belong to youth；
snapped the link that bound my heart to another's； and doomed me to
a lone old age。 I try to be patient； but my cross has been heavy；
and my heart is empty and weary； and I long for the death that
comes so slowly to those who pray to die。
I will try and relate； exactly as it happened； the event which
blighted my life。 Though it occurred many years ago； there is no
fear that I should have forgotten any of the minutest
circumstances： they were stamped on my brain too clearly and
burningly； like the brand of a red…hot iron。 I see them written in
the wrinkles of my brow； in the dead whiteness of my hair； which
was a glossy brown once； and has known no gradual change from dark
to gray； from gray to white； as with those happy ones who were the
companions of my girlhood； and whose honored age is soothed by the
love of children and grandchildren。 But I must not envy them。 I
only meant to say that the difficulty of my task has no connection
with want of memoryI remember but too well。 But as I take my pen
my hand trembles； my head swims； the old rushing faintness and
Horror comes over me again； and the well…remembered fear is upon
me。 Yet I will go on。
This； briefly； is my story： I was a great heiress； I believe；
though I cared little for the fact； but so it was。 My father had
great possessions； and no son to inherit after him。 His three
daughters； of whom I was the youngest； were to share the broad
acres among them。 I have said； and truly； that I cared little for
the circumstance； and； indeed； I was so rich then in health and
youth and love that I felt myself quite indifferent to all else。
The possession of all the treasures of earth could never have made
up for what I then hadand lost； as I am about to relate。 Of
course； we girls knew that we were heiresses； but I do not think
Lucy and Minnie were any the prouder or the happier on that
account。 I know I was not。 Reginald did not court me for my
money。 Of THAT I felt assured。 He proved it； Heaven be praised！
when he shrank from my side after the change。 Yes； in all my
lonely age； I can still be thankful that he did not keep his word；
as some would have donedid not clasp at the altar a hand he had
learned to loathe and shudder at； because it was full of goldmuch
gold！ At least he spared me that。 And I know that I was loved；
and the knowledge has kept me from going mad through many a weary
day and restless night； when my hot eyeballs had not a tear to
shed； and even to weep was a luxury denied me。
Our house was an old Tudor mansion。 My father was very particular
in keeping the smallest peculiarities of his home unaltered。 Thus
the many peaks and gables； the numerous turrets；