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Feathertop: A Moralized Legend
NosoonerdidtheimagesthereinreflectedmeetPolly’seyethansheshrieked,shrankfromthestranger’sside,gazedathimforamomentinthewildestdismay,andsankinsensibleuponthefloor.Feathertoplikewisehadlookedtowardsthemirror,andtherebeheld,nottheglitteringmockeryofhisoutsideshow,butapictureofthesordidpatchworkofhisrealcompositionstrippedofallwitchcraft.
Thewretchedsimulacrum!Wealmostpityhim.Hethrewuphisarmswithanexpressionofdespairthatwentfurtherthananyofhispreviousmanifestationstowardsvindicatinghisclaimstobereckonedhuman,forperchancetheonlytimesincethissooftenemptyanddeceptivelifeofmortalsbeganitscourse,anillusionhadseenandfullyrecognizeditself.
MotherRigbywasseatedbyherkitchenhearthinthetwilightofthiseventfulday,andhadjustshakentheashesoutofanewpipe,whensheheardahurriedtrampalongtheroad.Yetitdidnotseemsomuchthetrampofhumanfootstepsastheclatterofsticksortherattlingofdrybones.
"Ha!"thoughttheoldwitch,"whatstepisthat?Whoseskeletonisoutofitsgravenow,Iwonder?"
Afigureburstheadlongintothecottagedoor.ItwasFeathertop!Hispipewasstillalight;thestarstillflameduponhisbreast;theembroiderystillgloweduponhisgarments;norhadhelost,inanydegreeormannerthatcouldbeestimated,theaspectthatassimilatedhimwithourmortalbrotherhood.Butyet,insomeindescribableway(asisthecasewithallthathasdeludeduswhenoncefoundout),thepoorrealitywasfeltbeneaththecunningartifice.
