violently that his snake-like staff actually seemed to wriggle in
sympathy.

"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted he again and again; then composing himself,
"Well, go on, Goodman Brown, go on; but, prithee, don't kill me
with laughing."

"Well, then, to end the matter at once," said Goodman Brown,
considerably nettled, "there is my wife, Faith. It would break
her dear little heart; and I'd rather break my own."

"Nay, if that be the case," answered the other, "e'en go thy
ways, Goodman Brown. I would not for twenty old women like the
one hobbling before us that Faith should come to any harm."

As he spoke he pointed his staff at a female figure on the path,
in whom Goodman Brown recognized a very pious and exemplary dame,
who had taught him his catechism in youth, and was still his
moral and spiritual adviser, jointly with the minister and Deacon
Gookin.

"A marvel, truly, that Goody Cloyse should be so far in the
wilderness at nightfall," said he. "But with your leave, friend,
I shall take a cut through the woods until we have left this
Christian woman behind. Being a stranger to you, she might ask
whom I was consorting with and whither I was going."

"Be it so," said his fellow-traveller. "Betake you to the woods,
and let me keep the path."