had crept upon them behind his awful veil and discovered their hoarded iniquity of deed or thought.  Many spread their clasped hands on their bosoms.  There was nothing terrible in what Mr. Hooper said—­at least, no violence; and yet with every tremor of his melancholy voice the hearers quaked.  An unsought pathos came hand in hand with awe.  So sensible were the audience of some unwonted attribute in their minister that they longed for a breath of wind to blow aside the veil, almost believing that a stranger’s visage would be discovered, though the form, gesture and voice were those of Mr. Hooper.

At the close of the services the people hurried out with indecorous confusion, eager to communicate their pent-up amazement, and conscious of lighter spirits the moment they lost sight of the black veil.  Some gathered in little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering in the centre; some went homeward alone, wrapped in silent meditation; some talked loudly and profaned the Sabbath-day with ostentatious laughter.  A few shook their sagacious heads, intimating that they could penetrate the mystery, while one or two affirmed that there was no mystery at all, but only that Mr. Hooper’s eyes were so weakened by the midnight lamp as to require a shade.

After a brief interval forth came good Mr. Hooper also, in the rear of his flock.  Turning his veiled face from one group to another, he paid due reverence to the hoary heads, saluted the middle-aged with kind dignity as their friend and spiritual guide, greeted the young with mingled authority and love, and laid his hands on the little children’s heads to bless them.  Such was always his custom on the Sabbath-day.  Strange and bewildered looks repaid him for his courtesy.  None, as on former occasions, aspired to the honor of walking by their pastor’s side.  Old Squire Saunders—­doubtless by an accidental lapse of memory—­neglected to invite Mr. Hooper to his table, where the good clergyman had been wont to bless the food almost every Sunday since his settlement.  He returned, therefore, to the parsonage, and at the moment of closing the door was observed to look back upon the people, all of whom had their eyes fixed upon the minister.  A sad smile gleamed faintly from beneath the black veil and flickered about his mouth, glimmering as he disappeared.

“How strange,” said a lady, “that a simple black veil, such as any woman might wear on her bonnet, should become such a terrible thing on Mr. Hooper’s face!”

“Something must surely be amiss with Mr. Hooper’s intellects,” observed her husband, the physician of the village.  “But the strangest part of the affair is the effect of this vagary even on a sober-minded man like myself.  The black veil, though it covers only our pastor’s face, throws its influence over his whole person and makes him ghost-like from head to foot.  Do you not feel it so?”

“Truly do I,” replied the lady; “and I would not be alone with him for the world.  I wonder he is not afraid to be alone with himself.”