the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a
pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an
Indian village, in King Philip's war. They were my good friends,
both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along this path, and
returned merrily after midnight. I would fain be friends with you
for their sake."

"If it be as thou sayest," replied Goodman Brown, "I marvel they
never spoke of these matters; or, verily, I marvel not, seeing
that the least rumor of the sort would have driven them from New
England. We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and
abide no such wickedness."

"Wickedness or not," said the traveller with the twisted staff,
"I have a very general acquaintance here in New England. The
deacons of many a church have drunk the communion wine with me;
the selectmen of divers towns make me their chairman; and a
majority of the Great and General Court are firm supporters of my
interest. The governor and I, too--But these are state secrets."

"Can this be so?" cried Goodman Brown, with a stare of amazement
at his undisturbed companion. "Howbeit, I have nothing to do with
the governor and council; they have their own ways, and are no
rule for a simple husbandman like me. But, were I to go on with
thee, how should I meet the eye of that good old man, our
minister, at Salem village? Oh, his voice would make me tremble
both Sabbath day and lecture day."

Thus far the elder traveller had listened with due gravity; but
now burst into a fit of irrepressible mirth, shaking himself so