Twice-Told Tales by Nathaniel Hawthorne Read Free Book Online

symbol of a fearful secret between him and them. Were
the veil but cast aside, they might speak freely of it, but not till
then. Thus they sat a considerable time, speechless, confused and
shrinking uneasily from Mr. Hooper's eye, which they felt to be fixed
upon them with an invisible glance. Finally, the deputies returned
abashed to their constituents, pronouncing the matter too weighty to
be handled except by a council of the churches, if, indeed, it might
not require a General Synod.
    But there was one person in the village unappalled by the awe with
which the black veil had impressed all besides herself. When the
deputies returned without an explanation, or even venturing to demand
one, she with the calm energy of her character determined to chase
away the strange cloud that appeared to be settling round Mr. Hooper
every moment more darkly than before. As his plighted wife it should
be her privilege to know what the black veil concealed. At the
minister's first visit, therefore, she entered upon the subject with a
direct simplicity which made the task easier both for him and her.
After he had seated himself she fixed her eyes steadfastly upon the
veil, but could discern nothing of the dreadful gloom that had so
overawed the multitude; it was but a double fold of crape hanging down
from his forehead to his mouth and slightly stirring with his breath.
    "No," said she, aloud, and smiling, "there is nothing terrible in this
piece of crape, except that it hides a face which I am always glad to
look upon. Come, good sir; let the sun shine from behind the cloud.
First lay aside your black veil, then tell me why you put it on."
    Mr. Hooper's smile glimmered faintly.
    "There is an hour to come," said he, "when all of us shall cast aside
our veils. Take it not amiss, beloved friend, if I wear this piece of
crape till then."
    "Your words are a mystery too," returned the young lady. "Take away
the veil from them, at least."
    "Elizabeth, I will," said he, "so far as my vow may suffer me. Know,
then, this veil is a type and a symbol, and I am bound to wear it
ever, both in light and darkness, in solitude and before the gaze of
multitudes, and as with strangers, so with my familiar friends. No
mortal eye will see it withdrawn. This dismal shade must separate me
from the world; even you, Elizabeth, can never come behind it."
    "What grievous affliction hath befallen you," she earnestly inquired,
"that you should thus darken your eyes for ever?"
    "If it be a sign of mourning," replied Mr. Hooper, "I, perhaps, like
most other mortals, have sorrows dark enough to be typified by a black
veil."
    "But what if the world will not believe that it is the type of an
innocent sorrow?" urged Elizabeth. "Beloved and respected as you are,
there may be whispers that you hide your face under the consciousness
of secret sin. For the sake of your holy office do away this scandal."
    The color rose into her cheeks as she intimated the nature of the
rumors that were already abroad in the village. But Mr. Hooper's
mildness did not forsake him. He even smiled again—that same sad
smile which always appeared like a faint glimmering of light
proceeding from the obscurity beneath the veil.
    "If I hide my face for sorrow, there is cause enough," he merely
replied; "and if I cover it for secret sin, what mortal might not do
the same?" And with this gentle but unconquerable obstinacy did he
resist all her entreaties.
    At length Elizabeth sat silent. For a few moments she appeared lost in
thought, considering, probably, what new methods might be tried to
withdraw her lover from so dark a fantasy, which, if it had no other
meaning, was perhaps a symptom of mental disease. Though of a firmer
character than his own, the tears rolled down her cheeks. But in an
instant, as it were, a new feeling took the place of sorrow: her eyes
were fixed insensibly on the black veil, when like a sudden twilight
in the air its terrors fell around her. She arose and stood trembling
before