| And, maddened
with despair, so that he laughed loud and
long, did Goodman Brown grasp his staff and
set forth again, at such a rate that he seemed
to fly along the forest path rather than
to walk or run. The road grew wilder and
drearier and more faintly traced, and vanished
at length, leaving him in the heart of the
dark wilderness, still rushing onward with
the instinct that guides mortal man to evil.
The whole forest was peopled with frightful
sounds--the creaking of the trees, the howling
of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians;
while sometimes the wind tolled like a distant
church bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar
around the traveller, as if all Nature were
laughing him to scorn. But he was himself
the chief horror of the scene, and shrank
not from its other horrors.
"Ha! ha! ha!" roared Goodman
Brown when the wind laughed at him "Let
us hear which will laugh loudest. Think
not to frighten me with your deviltry.
Come witch, come wizard, come Indian powwow,
come devil himself, and here comes Goodman
Brown. You may as well fear him as he fear
you."
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