He had sharply rebuked the
superstition in his parishioners; had been inclined to ridicule Matthew
Frost; had cherished a firm and unalterable belief that some foolish
wight was playing pranks with the public; but all these suppositions and
convictions faded in this moment; and the clergyman felt that that which
had rustled past was the veritable dead and-gone Frederick Massingbird,
in the spirit or in the flesh.
He shook the feeling off--or strove to shake it. That it was Frederick
Massingbird in the flesh he did not give a second supposition to; and
that it could be Frederick Massingbird in the spirit, was opposed to
every past belief of the clergyman's life. But he had never seen such a
likeness; and though the similarity in the features might be accidental,
what of the black star?
He strove to shake the feeling off; to say to himself that some one,
bearing a similar face, must be in the village; and he went on to his
destination. Mrs. Hook was better; but she was lying in the place
unattended, all of them out somewhere or other. The clergyman talked to
her and read to her; and then waited impatiently for the return of
Alice.
Pages:
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724