| At the word,
Goodman Brown stepped forth from the shadow
of the trees and approached the congregation,
with whom he felt a loathful brotherhood
by the sympathy of all that was wicked in
his heart. He could have well-nigh sworn
that the shape of his own dead father beckoned
him to advance, looking downward from a smoke
wreath, while a woman, with dim features
of despair, threw out her hand to warn him
back. Was it his mother? But he had no power
to retreat one step, nor to resist, even
in thought, when the minister and good old
Deacon Gookin seized his arms and led him
to the blazing rock. Thither came also the
slender form of a veiled female, led between
Goody Cloyse, that pious teacher of the catechism,
and Martha Carrier, who had received the
devil's promise to be queen of hell. A rampant
hag was she. And there stood the proselytes
beneath the canopy of fire.
"Welcome, my children," said
the dark figure, "to the communion
of your race. Ye have found thus young
your nature and your destiny. My children,
look behind you!"
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