After performing the ceremony Mr. Hooper raised aglass of wine to his lips， wishing happiness to the newmarriedcouple in a strain of mild pleasantry that ought tohave brightened the features of the guests like a cheerfulgleam from the hearth. At that instant， catching a glimpseof his figure in the looking-glass， the black veil involvedhis own spirit in the horror with which it overwhelmed allothers. His frame shuddered， his lips grew white， he spiltthe untasted wine upon the carpet and rushed forth intothe darkness， for the Earth too had on her black veil.
The next day the whole village of Milford talked oflittle else than Parson Hooper’s black veil. That， andthe mystery concealed behind it， supplied a topic fordiscussion between acquaintances meeting in the streetand good women gossipping at their open windows. It wasthe first item of news that the tavernkeeper told to hisguests. The children babbled of it on their way to school.
One imitative little imp covered his face with an old blackhandkerchief， thereby so affrighting his playmates that thepanic seized himself and he wellnigh lost his wits by hisown waggery.
It was remarkable that of all the busybodies andimpertinent people in the parish， not one ventured to putthe plain question to Mr. Hooper wherefore he did thisthing. Hitherto， whenever there appeared the slightestcall for such interference， he had never lacked advisersnor shown himself averse to be guided by their judgment.
If he erred at all， it was by so painful a degree of selfdistrustthat even the mildest censure would lead him toconsider an indifferent action as a crime. Yet， though sowell acquainted with this amiable weakness， no individualamong his parishioners chose to make the black veil asubject of friendly remonstrance. There was a feeling ofdread， neither plainly confessed nor carefully concealed，which caused each to shift the responsibility upon another，till at length it was found expedient to send a deputationof the church， in order to deal with Mr. Hooper about themystery before it should grow into a scandal. Never did anembassy so ill discharge its duties. The minister receivedthem with friendly courtesy， but became silent after theywere seated， leaving to his visitors the whole burden ofintroducing their important business. The topic， it mightbe supposed， was obvious enough. There was the blackveil swathed round Mr. Hooper’s forehead and concealingevery feature above his placid mouth， on which， at times，they could perceive the glimmering of a melancholy smile.
But that piece of crape， to their imagination， seemed tohang down before his heart， the symbol of a fearful secretbetween him and them. Were the veil but cast aside， theymight speak freely of it， but not till then. Thus they sata considerable time， speechless， confused and shrinkinguneasily from Mr. Hooper’s eye， which they felt to be fixedupon them with an invisible glance. Finally， the deputiesreturned abashed to their constituents， pronouncing thematter too weighty to be handled except by a council ofthe churches， if， indeed， it might not require a GeneralSynod.
But there was one person in the village unappalledby the awe with which the black veil had impressed allbesides herself. When the deputies returned without anexplanation， or even venturing to demand one， she withthe calm energy of her character determined to chase awaythe strange cloud that appeared to be settling round Mr.
Hooper every moment more darkly than before. As hisplighted wife it should be her privilege to know what theblack veil concealed. At the minister’s first visit， therefore，she entered upon the subject with a direct simplicitywhich made the task easier both for him and her. After hehad seated himself she fixed her eyes steadfastly upon theveil， but could discern nothing of the dreadful gloom thathad so overawed the multitude； it was but a double fold ofcrape hanging down from his forehead to his mouth andslightly stirring with his breath.
“No，” said she， aloud， and smiling， “there is nothingterrible in this piece of crape， except that it hides a facewhich I am always glad to look upon. Come， good sir； letthe sun shine from behind the cloud. First lay aside yourblack veil， then tell me why you put it on.”
Mr. Hooper’s smile glimmered faintly.
“There is an hour to come，” said he， “when all of us shallcast aside our veils. Take it not amiss， beloved friend， if Iwear this piece of crape till then.”
“Your words are a mystery too，” returned the young lady.
“Take away the veil from them， at least.”
“Elizabeth， I will，” said he， “so far as my vow may sufferme. Know， then， this veil is a type and a symbol， and Iam bound to wear it ever， both in light and darkness， insolitude and before the gaze of multitudes， and as withstrangers， so with my familiar friends. No mortal eyewill see it withdrawn. This dismal shade must separateme from the world； even you， Elizabeth， can never comebehind it.”
“What grievous affliction hath befallen you，” she earnestlyinquired， “that you should thus darken your eyes for ever？”
“If it be a sign of mourning，” replied Mr. Hooper， “I，perhaps， like most other mortals， have sorrows darkenough to be typified by a black veil.”
“But what if the world will not believe that it is the typeof an innocent sorrow？” urged Elizabeth. “Beloved andrespected as you are， there may be whispers that you hideyour face under the consciousness of secret sin. For thesake of your holy office do away this scandal.”
The color rose into her cheeks as she intimated thenature of the rumors that were already abroad in thevillage. But Mr. Hooper’s mildness did not forsake him.
He even smiled again—that same sad smile which alwaysappeared like a faint glimmering of light proceeding fromthe obscurity beneath the veil.
“If I hide my face for sorrow， there is cause enough，”
