`` May I be hanged myself , '' exclaimed Dominicus Pike , aloud , on reaching the top of a lonely hill , `` if I 'll believe old Higginbotham is unhanged till I see him with my own eyes and hear it from his own mouth . And , as he 's a real shaver , I 'll have the minister , or some other responsible man , for an endorser . '' It was growing dusk when he reached the toll-house on Kimballton turnpike , about a quarter of a mile from the village of this name . His little mare was fast bringing him up with a man on horseback who trotted through the gate a few rods in advance of him , nodded to the toll-gatherer and kept on towards the village . Dominicus was acquainted with the toll-man , and while making change the usual remarks on the weather passed between them . `` I suppose , '' said the pedler , throwing back his whiplash to bring it down like a feather on the mare 's flank , `` you have not seen anything of old Mr. Higginbotham within a day or two ? '' `` Yes , '' answered the toll-gatherer ; `` he passed the gate just before you drove up , and yonder he rides now , if you can see him through the dusk . He 's been to Woodfield this afternoon , attending a sheriff 's sale there . The old man generally shakes hands and has a little chat with me , but to-night he nodded , as if to say , ` Charge my toll , ' and jogged on ; for , wherever he goes , he must always be at home by eight o'clock . '' `` So they tell me , '' said Dominicus . `` I never saw a man look so yellow and thin as the squire does , '' continued the toll-gatherer . `` Says I to myself tonight , ` He 's more like a ghost or an old mummy than good flesh and blood . ' '' The pedler strained his eyes through the twilight , and could just discern the horseman now far ahead on the village road . He seemed to recognize the rear of Mr. Higginbotham , but through the evening shadows and amid the dust from the horse 's feet the figure appeared dim and unsubstantial , as if the shape of the mysterious old man were faintly moulded of darkness and gray light . Dominicus shivered . `` Mr. Higginbotham has come back from the other world by way of the Kimballton turnpike , '' thought he . He shook the reins and rode forward , keeping about the same distance in the rear of the gray old shadow till the latter was concealed by a bend of the road . On reaching this point the pedler no longer saw the man on horseback , but found himself at the head of the village street , not far from a number of stores and two taverns clustered round the meeting-house steeple . On his left was a stone wall and a gate , the boundary of a wood-lot beyond which lay an orchard , farther still a mowing-field , and last of all a house . These were the premises of Mr. Higginbotham , whose dwelling stood beside the old highway , but had been left in the background by the Kimballton turnpike .
Dominicus knew the place , and the little mare stopped short XXXXX instinct , for he was not conscious of tightening the reins .
about as before by from in on till while within