He was an elderly man, of large and majestic person, and strong,square features, betokening a steady soul; but steady as it was, hisenemies had found means to shake it. His face was pale as death, andfar more ghastly; the broad forehead was contracted in his agony, sothat his eyebrows formed one grizzled line; his eyes were red andwild, and the foam hung white upon his quivering lip. His wholeframe was agitated by a quick and continual tremor, which his pridestrove to quell, even in those circumstances of overwhelminghumiliation. But perhaps the bitterest pang of all was when his eyesmet those of Robin; for he evidently knew him on the instant, as theyouth stood witnessing the foul disgrace of a head grown gray inhonor. They stared at each other in silence, and Robin's kneesshook, and his hair bristled, with a mixture of pity and terror. Soon,however, a bewildering excitement began to seize upon his mind; thepreceding adventures of the night, the unexpected appearance of thecrowd, the torches, the confused din and the hush that followed, thespectre of his kinsman reviled by that great multitude- all this, and,more than all, a perception of tremendous ridicule in the whole scene,affected him with a sort of mental inebriety. At that moment a voiceof sluggish merriment saluted Robin's ears; he turned instinctively,and just behind the corner of the church stood the lantern-bearer,rubbing his eyes, and drowsily enjoying the lad's amazement. Then heheard a peal of laughter like the ringing of silvery bells; a womantwitched his arm, a saucy eye met his, and he saw the lady of thescarlet petticoat. A sharp, dry cachinnation appealed to his memory,and, standing on tiptoe in the crowd, with his white apron over hishead, he beheld the courteous little innkeeper. And lastly, theresailed over the heads of the multitude a great, broad laugh, broken inthe midst by two sepulchral hems; thus, "Haw, haw, haw- hem, hem- haw,haw, haw, haw!"The sound proceeded from the balcony of the opposite edifice, andthither Robin turned his eyes. In front of the Gothic window stood theold citizen, wrapped in a wide gown, his gray periwig exchanged fora night-cap, which was thrust back from his forehead, and his silkstockings hanging about his legs. He supported himself on his polishedcane in a fit of convulsive merriment, which manifested itself onhis solemn old features like a funny inscription on a tomb-stone. ThenRobin seemed to hear the voices of the barbers, of the guests of theinn, and of all who had made sport of him that night. The contagionwas spreading among the multitude, when, all at once, it seized uponRobin, and he sent forth a shout of laughter that echoed through thestreet- every man shook his sides, every man emptied his lungs, butRobin's shout was the loudest there. The cloud-spirits peeped fromtheir silvery islands, as the congregated mirth went roaring up thesky! The Man in the Moon heard the far bellow; "Oh," quoth he, "theold earth is frolicksome tonight!"When there was a momentary calm in that tempestuous sea of sound,the leader gave the sign, the procession resumed its march. On theywent, like fiends that throng in mockery around some dead potentate,mighty no more, but majestic still in his agony. On they went, incounterfeited pomp, in senseless uproar, in frenzied merriment,trampling all on an old man's heart. On swept the tumult, and left asilent street behind.
* * *
"Well, Robin, are you dreaming?" inquired the gentleman, laying hishand on the youth's shoulder.
Robin started, and withdrew his arm from the stone post to whichhe had instinctively clung, as the living stream rolled by him. Hischeek was somewhat pale and his eye not quite as lively as in theearlier part of the evening.
"Will you be kind enough to show me the way to the ferry?" said he,after a moment's pause.
"You have, then, adopted a new subject of inquiry?" observed hiscompanion, with a smile.
"Why, yes, sir," replied Robin, rather dryly. "Thanks to you, andto my other friends, I have at last met my kinsman, and he will scarcedesire to see my face again. I begin to grow weary of a town life,sir. Will you show me the way to the ferry?""No, my good friend Robin- not tonight, at least," said thegentleman. "Some few days hence, if you wish it, I will speed you onyour journey. Or, if you prefer to remain with us, perhaps, as you area shrewd youth, you may rise in the world without the help of yourkinsman, Major Molineux."THE END
.
1839
TWICE-TOLD TALES
OLD ESTHER DUDLEY
by Nathaniel Hawthorne
THE HOUR HAD COME- the hour of defeat and humiliation- when SirWilliam Howe was to pass over the threshold of the Province House, andembark, with no such triumphal ceremonies as he once promised himself,on board the British fleet. He bade his servants and militaryattendants go before him, and lingered a moment in the loneliness ofthe mansion, to quell the fierce emotions that struggled in hisbosom as with a death throb. Preferable, then, would he have deemedhis fate, had a warrior's death left him a claim to the narrowterritory of a grave within the soil which the King had given him todefend. With an ominous perception that, as his departing footstepsechoed adown the staircase, the sway of Britain was passing foreverfrom New England, he smote his clinched hand on his brow, and cursedthe destiny that had flung the shame of a dismembered empire upon him.
"Would to God," cried he, hardly repressing his tears of rage,"that the rebels were even now at the doorstep! A blood-stain upon thefloor should then bear testimony that the last British ruler wasfaithful to his trust."The tremulous voice of a woman replied to his exclamation.
