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Early Letters of George Wm. Curtis by George William Curtis
page 68 of 222 (30%)
always most winning to children. Martha, however, pushed bravely on, a
figure of tragic sobriety to all who watched her course. The farmers
thought her a strange girl, and wondered at the ways of the farmer's
daughter who was not content to milk cows and churn butter and fry pork,
without further hope or thought. The good clergyman of the town,
interested in her situation, sought a confidence she did not care to
bestow, and so, doling out a, b, c to a wild group of boys and girls, she
found that she could not untie the Gordian knot of her life, and felt with
terror that it must be cut.

"One summer evening she left her father's house and walked into the fields
alone. Night came, but Martha did not return. The family became anxious,
inquired if any one had noticed the direction in which she went, learned
from the neighbors that she was not visiting, that there was no lecture
nor meeting to detain her, and wonder passed into apprehension. Neighbors
went into the adjacent woods and called, but received no answer. Every
instant the awful shadow of some dread event solemnized the gathering
groups. Every one thought what no one dared whisper, until a low voice
suggested the river. Then with the swiftness of certainty all friends far
and near were roused, and thronged along the banks of the stream. Torches
flashed in the boats that put off in the terrible search. Hawthorne, then
living in the Old Manse, was summoned, and the man whom the villagers had
only seen at morning as a musing spectre in his garden, now appeared among
them at night, to devote his strong arm and steady heart to their service.
The boats drifted slowly down the stream, the torches flashed strangely
upon the black repose of the waters, and upon the long slim grasses that
weeping fringed the marge. Upon both banks silent and awe-stricken crowds
hastened along, eager and dreading to find the slightest trace of what
they sought. Suddenly they came to a few articles of dress, heavy with the
night dew. No one spoke, for no one had doubted the result. It was clear
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