Higginbotham's corpse were not yet discovered by his own family, howcame the mulatto, at above thirty miles' distance, to know that he washanging in the orchard, especially as he had left Kimballton beforethe unfortunate man was hanged at all? These ambiguouscircumstances, with the stranger's surprise and terror, made Dominicusthink of raising a hue and cry after him, as an accomplice in themurder; since a murder, it seemed, had really been perpetrated.
"But let the poor devil go," thought the pedlar. "I don't wanthis black blood on my head; and hanging the nigger wouldn't unhang Mr.
Higginbotham. Unhang the old gentleman! It's a sin, I know; but Ishould hate to have him come to life a second time, and give me thelie!"With these meditations, Dominicus Pike drove into the street ofParker's Falls, which, as everybody knows, is as thriving a village asthree cotton factories and a slitting mill can make it. Themachinery was not in motion, and but a few of the shop doors unbarred,when he alighted in the stable yard of the tavern, and made it hisfirst business to order the mare four quarts of oats. His second duty,of course, was to impart Mr. Higginbotham's catastrophe to thehostler. He deemed it advisable, however, not to be too positive as tothe date of the direful fact, and also to be uncertain whether it wereperpetrated by an Irishman and a mulatto, or by the son of Erin alone.
Neither did he profess to relate it on his own authority, or that ofany one person; but mentioned it as a report generally diffused.
The story ran through the town like fire among girdled trees, andbecame so much the universal talk that nobody could tell whence it hadoriginated. Mr. Higginbotham was as well known at Parker's Falls asany citizen of the place, being part owner of the slitting mill, and aconsiderable stockholder in the cotton factories. The inhabitants felttheir own prosperity interested in his fate. Such was theexcitement, that the Parker's Falls Gazette anticipated its regularday of publication, and came out with half a form of blank paper and acolumn of double pica emphasized with capitals, and headed HORRIDMURDER OF MR. HIGGINBOTHAM! Among other dreadful details, theprinted account described the mark of the cord round the dead man'sneck, and stated the number of thousand dollars of which he had beenrobbed; there was much pathos also about the affliction of hisniece, who had gone from one fainting fit to another, ever since heruncle was found hanging on the St. Michael's pear-tree with hispockets inside out. The village poet likewise commemorated the younglady's grief in seventeen stanzas of a ballad. The selectmen held ameeting, and, in consideration of Mr. Higginbotham's claims on thetown, determined to issue handbills, offering a reward of five hundreddollars for the apprehension of his murderers, and the recovery of thestolen property.
Meanwhile the whole population of Parker's Falls, consisting ofshopkeepers, mistresses of boarding-houses, factory girls, millmen,and school boys, rushed into the street and kept up such a terribleloquacity as more than compensated for the silence of the cottonmachines, which refrained from their usual din out of respect to thedeceased. Had Mr. Higginbotham cared about posthumous renown, hisuntimely ghost would have exulted in this tumult. Our friendDominicus, in his vanity of heart, forgot his intended precautions,and mounting on the town pump, announced himself as the bearer ofthe authentic intelligence which had caused so wonderful asensation. He immediately became the great man of the moment, andhad just begun a new edition of the narrative, with a voice like afield preacher, when the mail stage drove into the village street.
It had travelled all night, and must have shifted horses atKimballton, at three in the morning.
"Now we shall hear all the particulars," shouted the crowd.
The coach rumbled up to the piazza of the tavern, followed by athousand people; for if any man had been minding his own business tillthen, he now left it at sixes and sevens, to hear the news. Thepedlar, foremost in the race, discovered two passengers, both ofwhom had been startled from a comfortable nap to find themselves inthe centre of a mob. Every man assailing them with separate questions,all propounded at once, the couple were struck speechless, thoughone was a lawyer and the other a young lady.
"Mr. Higginbotham! Mr. Higginbotham! Tell us the particularsabout old Mr. Higginbotham!" bawled the mob. "What is the coroner'sverdict? Are the murderers apprehended? Is Mr. Higginbotham's niececome out of her fainting fits? Mr. Higginbotham! Mr. Higginbotham!!"The coachman said not a word, except to swear awfully at thehostler for not bringing him a fresh team of horses. The lawyer insidehad generally his wits about him even when asleep; the first thinghe did, after learning the cause of the excitement, was to produce alarge red pocket-book. Meantime Dominicus Pike, being an extremelypolite young man, and also suspecting that a female tongue wouldtell the story as glibly as a lawyer's, had handed the lady out of thecoach. She was a fine, smart girl, now wide awake and bright as abutton, and had such a sweet pretty mouth, that Dominicus would almostas lief have heard a love tale from it as a tale of murder.
