“Whatthingartthou？”saidthebrain-strickenyouth，drawing
nearthebedandtearingasunderitscurtains。“Whosevoicehast
thoustolenforthymurmursandmiserablepetitions，asifLady
Eleanorecouldbeconsciousofmortalinfirmity？Fie！Heapofdiseased
mortality，whylurkestthouinmylady’schamber？”
“OJervaseHelwyse。”saidthevoice-andasitspokethefigure
contorteditself，strugglingtohideitsblastedface-“looknotnow
onthewomanyouonceloved！ThecurseofHeavenhathstrickenme，
becauseIwouldnotcallmanmybrother，norwomansister。Iwrapped
myselfinPRIDEasinaMANTLE，andscornedthesympathiesof
nature；andthereforehasnaturemadethiswretchedbodythemediumof
adreadfulsympathy。Youareavenged-theyareallavenged-Nature
isavenged-forIamEleanoreRochcliffe！”
Themaliceofhismentaldisease，thebitternesslurkingatthe
bottomofhisheart，madashewas，forablightedandruinedlife，
andlovethathadbeenpaidwithcruelscorn，awokewithinthe
breastofJervaseHelwyse。Heshookhisfingeratthewretchedgirl，
andthechamberechoed，thecurtainsofthebedwereshaken，with
hisoutburstofinsanemerriment。
“AnothertriumphfortheLadyEleanore！”hecried。“Allhavebeen
hervictims！Whosoworthytobethefinalvictimasherself？”
Impelledbysomenewfantasyofhiscrazedintellect，hesnatched
thefatalmantleandrushedfromthechamberandthehouse。Thatnight
aprocessionpassed，bytorchlight，throughthestreets，bearingin
themidstthefigureofawoman，envelopedwitharichlyembroidered
mantle；whileinadvancestalkedJervaseHelwyse，wavingthered
flagofthepestilence。ArrivingoppositetheProvinceHouse，the
mobburnedtheeffigy，andastrongwindcameandsweptawaythe
ashes。Itwassaidthat，fromthatveryhour，thepestilenceabated，
asifitsswayhadsomemysteriousconnection，fromthefirstplague
stroketothelast，withLadyEleanore’sMantle。Aremarkable
uncertaintybroodsoverthatunhappylady’sfate。Thereisabelief，
however，thatinacertainchamberofthismansionafemaleformmay
sometimesbeduskilydiscerned，shrinkingintothedarkestcorner
andmufflingherfacewithinanembroideredmantle。Supposingthe
legendtrue，canthisbeotherthantheonceproudLadyEleanore？
byNathanielHawthorne
AYOUNGFELLOW，atobaccopedlarbytrade，wasonhiswayfrom
Morristown，wherehehaddealtlargelywiththeDeaconoftheShaker
settlement，tothevillageofParker’sFalls，onSalmonRiver。He
hadaneatlittlecart，paintedgreen，withaboxofcigarsdepicted
oneachsidepanel，andanIndianchief，holdingapipeandagolden
tobaccostalk，ontherear。Thepedlardroveasmartlittlemare，
andwasayoungmanofexcellentcharacter，keenatabargain，but
nonetheworselikedbytheYankees：who，asIhaveheardthemsay，
wouldratherbeshavedwithasharprazorthanadullone。
EspeciallywashebelovedbytheprettygirlsalongtheConnecticut，
whosefavorheusedtocourtbypresentsofthebestsmokingtobacco
inhisstock；knowingwellthatthecountrylassesofNewEngland
aregenerallygreatperformersonpipes。Moreover，aswillbeseen
inthecourseofmystory，thepedlarwasinquisitive，andsomething
ofatattler，alwaysitchingtohearthenewsandanxioustotellit
again。
AfteranearlybreakfastatMorristown，thetobaccopedlar，whose
namewasDominicusPike，hadtravelledsevenmilesthrougha
solitarypieceofwoods，withoutspeakingawordtoanybodybut
himselfandhislittlegraymare。Itbeingnearlyseveno’clock，he
wasaseagertoholdamorninggossipasacityshopkeepertoreadthe
morningpaper。Anopportunityseemedathandwhen，afterlightinga
cigarwithasun-glass，helookedup，andperceivedamancoming
overthebrowofthehill，atthefootofwhichthepedlarhadstopped
hisgreencart。Dominicuswatchedhimashedescendedandnoticedthat
hecarriedabundleoverhisshoulderontheendofastick，and
travelledwithaweary，yetdeterminedpace。Hedidnotlookasif
hehadstartedinthefreshnessofthemorning，buthadfootedit
allnight，andmeanttodothesameallday。
“Goodmorning，mister。”saidDominicus，whenwithinspeaking
distance。“Yougoaprettygoodjog。What’sthelatestnewsat
Parker’sFalls？”
Themanpulledthebroadbrimofagrayhatoverhiseyes，and
answered，rathersuddenly，thathedidnotcomefromParker’sFalls，
which，asbeingthelimitofhisownday’sjourney，thepedlarhad
naturallymentionedinhisinquiry。
“Wellthen，rejoinedDominicusPike，“let’shavethelatestnews
whereyoudidcomefrom。I’mnotparticularaboutParker’sFalls。
Anyplacewillanswer。”
Beingthusimportuned，thetraveller-whowasasilllookinga
fellowasonewoulddesiretomeetinasolitarypieceofwoods-
appearedtohesitatealittle，asifhewaseithersearchinghis
memoryfornews，orweighingtheexpediencyoftellingit。Atlast，
mountingonthestepofthecart，hewhisperedintheearof
Dominicus，thoughhemighthaveshoutedaloudandnoothermortal
wouldhaveheardhim。
“Idorememberonelittletrifleofnews。”saidhe。“OldMr。
Higginbotham，ofKimballton，wasmurderedinhisorchard，ateight
o’clocklastnight，byanIrishmanandanigger。Theystrunghimupto
thebranchofaSt。Michael’spear-tree，wherenobodywouldfindhim
tillthemorning。”
Assoonasthishorribleintelligencewascommunicated，the
strangerbetookhimselftohisjourneyagain，withmorespeedthan
ever，noteventurninghisheadwhenDominicusinvitedhimtosmoke
aSpanishcigarandrelatealltheparticulars。Thepedlarwhistledto
hismareandwentupthehill，ponderingonthedolefulfateofMr。
Higginbothamwhomhehadknowninthewayoftrade，havingsoldhim
manyabunchoflongnines，andagreatdealofpigtail，lady’stwist，
andfigtobacco。Hewasratherastonishedattherapiditywithwhich
thenewshadspread。Kimballtonwasnearlysixtymilesdistantina
straightline；themurderhadbeenperpetratedonlyateighto’clock
theprecedingnight；yetDominicushadheardofitatseveninthe
morning，when，inallprobability，poorMr。Higginbotham’sown
familyhadbutjustdiscoveredhiscorpse，hangingontheSt。
Michael’spear-tree。Thestrangeronfootmusthaveworn
seven-leaguebootstotravelatsucharate。
“Illnewsfliesfast，theysay。”thoughtDominicusPike；“but
thisbeatsrailroads。Thefellowoughttobehiredtogoexpress
withthePresident’sMessage。”
Thedifficultywassolvedbysupposingthatthenarratorhadmadea
mistakeofonedayinthedateoftheoccurrence；sothatourfriend
didnothesitatetointroducethestoryateverytavernandcountry
storealongtheroad，expendingawholebunchofSpanishwrappers
amongatleasttwentyhorrifiedaudiences。Hefoundhimselfinvariably
thefirstbeareroftheintelligence，andwassopesteredwith
questionsthathecouldnotavoidfillinguptheoutline，tillit
becamequitearespectablenarrative。Hemetwithonepieceof
corroborativeevidence。Mr。Higginbothamwasatrader；andaformer
clerkofhis，towhomDominicusrelatedthefacts，testifiedthat
theoldgentlemanwasaccustomedtoreturnhomethroughtheorchard
aboutnightfall，withthemoneyandvaluablepapersofthestorein
hispocket。TheclerkmanifestedbutlittlegriefatMr。
Higginbotham’scatastrophe，hinting，whatthepedlarhaddiscoveredin
hisowndealingswithhim，thathewasacrustyoldfellow，asclose
asavice。Hispropertywoulddescendtoaprettyniecewhowasnow
keepingschoolinKimballton。
Whatwithtellingthenewsforthepublicgood，anddriving
bargainsforhisown，Dominicuswassomuchdelayedontheroadthat
hechosetoputupatatavern，aboutfivemilesshortofParker’s
Falls。Aftersupper，lightingoneofhisprimecigars，heseated
himselfinthebar-room，andwentthroughthestoryofthemurder，
whichhadgrownsofastthatittookhimhalfanhourtotell。There
wereasmanyastwentypeopleintheroom，nineteenofwhomreceived
itallforgospel。Butthetwentiethwasanelderlyfarmer，whohad
arrivedonhorsebackashorttimebefore，andwasnowseatedina
cornersmokinghispipe。Whenthestorywasconcluded，heroseupvery
deliberately，broughthischairrightinfrontofDominicus，and
staredhimfullintheface，puffingoutthevilesttobaccosmoke
thepedlarhadeversmelt。
“Willyoumakeaffidavit。”demandedhe，inthetoneofacountry
justicetakinganexamination，“thatoldSquireHigginbothamof
Kimballtonwasmurderedinhisorchardthenightbeforelast，and
foundhangingonhisgreatpear-treeyesterdaymorning？”
“ItellthestoryasIheardit，mister。”answeredDominicus，
droppinghishalf-burntcigar；“Idon’tsaythatIsawthethingdone。
SoIcan’ttakemyoaththathewasmurderedexactlyinthatway。”
“ButIcantakemine。”saidthefarmer，thatifSquireHigginbotham
wasmurderednightbeforelast，Idrankaglassofbitterswithhis
ghostthismorning。Beinganeighborofmine，hecalledmeintohis
store，asIwasridingby，andtreatedme，andthenaskedmetodoa
littlebusinessforhimontheroad。Hedidn’tseemtoknowanymore
abouthisownmurderthanIdid。”
“Why，then，itcan’tbeafact！”exclaimedDominicusPike。
“Iguesshe’dhavementioned，ifitwas。”saidtheoldfarmer；
andheremovedhischairbacktothecorner，leavingDominicusquite
downinthemouth。
HerewasasadresurrectionofoldMr。Higginbotham！Thepedlarhad
nohearttomingleintheconversationanymore，butcomfortedhimself
withaglassofginandwater，andwenttobedwhere，allnight
long，hedreamedofhangingontheSt。Michael’spear-tree。Toavoid
theoldfarmerwhomhesodetestedthathissuspensionwouldhave
pleasedhimbetterthanMr。Higginbotham’s，Dominicusroseinthe
grayofthemorning，putthelittlemareintothegreencart，and
trottedswiftlyawaytowardsParker’sFalls。Thefreshbreeze，the
dewyroad，andthepleasantsummerdawn，revivedhisspirits，and
mighthaveencouragedhimtorepeattheoldstoryhadtherebeen
anybodyawaketohearit。Buthemetneitheroxteam，lightwagon
chaise，horseman，norfoottraveller，till，justashecrossed
SalmonRiver，amancametrudgingdowntothebridgewithabundle
overhisshoulder，ontheendofastick。
“Goodmorning，mister。”saidthepedlar，reininginhismare。“If
youcomefromKimballtonorthatneighborhood，maybeyoucantell
metherealfactaboutthisaffairofoldMr。Higginbotham。Wasthe
oldfellowactuallymurderedtwoorthreenightsago，byanIrishman
andanigger？”
Dominicushadspokenintoogreatahurrytoobserve，atfirst，
thatthestrangerhimselfhadadeeptingeofNegroblood。On
hearingthissuddenquestion，theEthiopianappearedtochangehis
skin，itsyellowhuebecomingaghastlywhite，while，shakingand
stammering，hethusreplied：“No！no！Therewasnocoloredman！Itwas
anIrishmanthathangedhimlastnight，ateighto’clock。Icame
awayatseven！Hisfolkscan’thavelookedforhimintheorchard
yet。”
Scarcelyhadtheyellowmanspoken，whenheinterruptedhimself，
andthoughheseemedwearyenoughbefore，continuedhisjourneyata
pacewhichwouldhavekeptthepedlar’smareonasmarttrot。
Dominicusstartedafterhimingreatperplexity。Ifthemurderhadnot
beencommittedtillTuesdaynight，whowastheprophetthathad
foretoldit，inallitscircumstances，onTuesdaymorning？IfMr。
Higginbotham’scorpsewerenotyetdiscoveredbyhisownfamily，how
camethemulatto，atabovethirtymiles’distance，toknowthathewas
hangingintheorchard，especiallyashehadleftKimballtonbefore
theunfortunatemanwashangedatall？Theseambiguous
circumstances，withthestranger’ssurpriseandterror，madeDominicus
thinkofraisingahueandcryafterhim，asanaccompliceinthe
murder；sinceamurder，itseemed，hadreallybeenperpetrated。
“Butletthepoordevilgo。”thoughtthepedlar。“Idon’twant
hisblackbloodonmyhead；andhangingtheniggerwouldn’tunhangMr。
Higginbotham。Unhangtheoldgentleman！It’sasin，Iknow；butI
shouldhatetohavehimcometolifeasecondtime，andgivemethe
lie！”