The Blithedale Romance - Page 75/170

"Ah, there is more in that story than can well be accounted for,"

remarked another. "I have it on good authority, that the young lady in

question is invariably out of sight, and not to be traced, even by her

own family, at the hours when the Veiled Lady is before the public; nor

can any satisfactory explanation be given of her disappearance. And

just look at the thing: Her brother is a young fellow of spirit. He

cannot but be aware of these rumors in reference to his sister. Why,

then, does he not come forward to defend her character, unless he is

conscious that an investigation would only make the matter worse?"

It is essential to the purposes of my legend to distinguish one of

these young gentlemen from his companions; so, for the sake of a soft

and pretty name (such as we of the literary sisterhood invariably

bestow upon our heroes), I deem it fit to call him Theodore.

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Theodore; "her brother is no such fool! Nobody,

unless his brain be as full of bubbles as this wine, can seriously

think of crediting that ridiculous rumor. Why, if my senses did not

play me false (which never was the case yet), I affirm that I saw that

very lady, last evening, at the exhibition, while this veiled

phenomenon was playing off her juggling tricks! What can you say to

that?"

"Oh, it was a spectral illusion that you saw!" replied his friends,

with a general laugh. "The Veiled Lady is quite up to such a thing."

However, as the above-mentioned fable could not hold its ground against

Theodore's downright refutation, they went on to speak of other stories

which the wild babble of the town had set afloat. Some upheld that the

veil covered the most beautiful countenance in the world; others,--and

certainly with more reason, considering the sex of the Veiled

Lady,--that the face was the most hideous and horrible, and that this

was her sole motive for hiding it. It was the face of a corpse; it was

the head of a skeleton; it was a monstrous visage, with snaky locks,

like Medusa's, and one great red eye in the centre of the forehead.

Again, it was affirmed that there was no single and unchangeable set of

features beneath the veil; but that whosoever should be bold enough to

lift it would behold the features of that person, in all the world, who

was destined to be his fate; perhaps he would be greeted by the tender

smile of the woman whom he loved, or, quite as probably, the deadly

scowl of his bitterest enemy would throw a blight over his life. They

quoted, moreover, this startling explanation of the whole affair: that

the magician who exhibited the Veiled Lady--and who, by the bye, was

the handsomest man in the whole world--had bartered his own soul for

seven years' possession of a familiar fiend, and that the last year of

the contract was wearing towards its close.