Andthus，whilestandingonthescaffold，inthisvainshowofexpiation，Mr。Dimmesdalewasovercomewithagreathorrorofmind，asiftheuniverseweregazingatascarlettokenonhisnakedbreast，rightoverhisheart。Onthatspot，inverytruth，therewas，andtherehadlongbeen，thegnawingandpoisonoustoothofbodilypain。
　　Withoutanyeffortofhiswill，orpowertorestrainhimself，heshriekedaloud；anoutcrythatwentpealingthroughthenight，andwasbeatenbackfromonehousetoanother，andreverberatedfromthehillsinthebackground；asifacompanyofdevils，detectingsomuchmiseryandterrorinit，hadmadeaplaythingofthesound，andwerebandyingittoandfro。
　　"Itisdone！"mutteredtheminister，coveringhisfacewithhishands。"Thewholetownwillawake，andhurryforth，andfindmehere！"
　　Butitwasnotso。Theshriekhadperhapssoundedwithafargreaterpower，tohisownstartledears，thanitactuallypossessed。
　　Thetowndidnotawake；or，ifitdid，thedrowsyslumberersmistookthecryeitherforsomethingfrightfulinadream，orforthenoiseofwitches；whosevoices，atthatperiod，wereoftenheardtopassoverthesettlementsorlonelycottages，astheyrodewithSatanthroughtheair。Theclergyman，therefore，hearingnosymptomsofdisturbance，uncoveredhiseyesandlookedabouthim。Atoneofthechamber—windowsofGovernorBellingham’smansion，whichstoodatsomedistance，onthelineofanotherstreet，hebeheldtheappearanceoftheoldmagistratehimself，withalampinhishand，awhitenight—caponhishead，andalongwhitegownenvelopinghisfigure。Helookedlikeaghost，evokedunseasonablyfromthegrave。Thecryhadevidentlystartledhim。Atanotherwindowofthesamehouse，moreover，appearedoldMistressHibbins，theGovernor’ssister，alsowithalamp，which，eventhusfaroff，revealedtheexpressionofhersouranddiscontentedface。Shethrustforthherheadfromthelattice，andlookedanxiouslyupward。Beyondtheshadowofadoubt，thisvenerablewitch—ladyhadheardMr。Dimmesdale’soutcry，andinterpretedit，withitsmultitudinousechoesandreverberations，astheclamourofthefiendsandnight—hags，withwhomshewaswellknowntomakeexcursionsintotheforest。
　　DetectingthegleamofGovernorBellingham’slamp，theoldladyquicklyextinguishedherown，andvanished。Possibly，shewentupamongtheclouds。Theministersawnothingfurtherofhermotions。Themagistrate，afterawaryobservationofthedarkness—intowhich，nevertheless，hecouldseebutlittlefartherthanhemightintoamill—stone—retiredfromthewindow。
　　Theministergrewcomparativelycalm。Hiseyes，however，weresoongreetedbyalittle，glimmeringlight，which，atfirstalongwayoff，wasapproachingupthestreet。Itthrewagleamofrecognitiononhereapost，andthereagarden—fence，andherealatticedwindowpane，andthereapump，withitsfulltroughofwater，andhere，again，anarcheddoorofoak，withanironknocker，andaroughlogforthedoor—step。TheReverendMr。Dimmesdalenotedalltheseminuteparticulars，evenwhilefirmlyconvincedthatthedoomofhisexistencewasstealingonward，inthefootstepswhichhenowheard；
　　andthatthegleamofthelanternwouldfalluponhim，inafewmomentsmore，andrevealhislong—hiddensecret。Asthelightgrewnearer，hebeheld，withinitsilluminatedcircle，hisbrotherclergyman—or，tospeakmoreaccurately，hisprofessionalfather，aswellashighlyvaluedfriend—theReverendMr。Wilson；who，asMr。
　　Dimmesdalenowconjectured，hadbeenprayingatthebedsideofsomedyingman。Andsohehad。Thegoodoldministercamefreshlyfromthedeath—chamberofGovernorWinthrop，whohadpassedfromearthtoheavenwithinthatveryhour。Andnow，surrounded，likethesaint—likepersonagesofoldentimes，witharadianthalo，thatglorifiedhimamidthisgloomynightofsin—asifthedepartedGovernorhadlefthimaninheritanceofhisglory，orasifhehadcaughtuponhimselfthedistantshineofthecelestialcity，whilelookingthitherwardtoseethetriumphantpilgrimpasswithinitsgates—now，inshort，goodFatherWilsonwasmovinghomeward，aidinghisfootstepswithalightedlantern！TheglimmerofthisluminarysuggestedtheaboveconceitstoMr。Dimmesdale，whosmiled—nay，almostlaughedatthem—
　　andthenwonderedifheweregoingmad。
　　AstheReverendMr。Wilsonpassedbesidethescaffold，closelymufflinghisGenevacloakabouthimwithonearm，andholdingthelanternbeforehisbreastwiththeother，theministercouldhardlyrestrainhimselffromspeaking。
　　"Agoodeveningtoyou，venerableFatherWilson！Comeuphither，I
　　prayyou，andpassapleasanthourwithme！"
　　Goodheavens！HadMr。Dimmesdaleactuallyspoken？Foroneinstant，hebelievedthatthesewordshadpassedhislips。Buttheywereutteredonlywithinhisimagination。ThevenerableFatherWilsoncontinuedtostepslowlyonward，lookingcarefullyatthemuddypathwaybeforehisfeet，andneveronceturninghisheadtowardtheguiltyplatform。Whenthelightoftheglimmeringlanternhadfadedquiteaway，theministerdiscovered，bythefaintnesswhichcameoverhim，thatthelastfewmomentshadbeenacrisisofterribleanxiety；althoughhismindhadmadeaninvoluntaryefforttorelieveitselfbyakindofluridplayfulness。
　　Shortlyafterwards，thelikegrislysenseofthehumorousagainstoleinamongthesolemnphantomsofhisthought。Hefelthislimbsgrowingstiffwiththeunaccustomedchillinessofthenight，anddoubtedwhetherheshouldbeabletodescendthestepsofthescaffold。Morningwouldbreak，andfindhimthere。Theneighbourhoodwouldbegintorouseitself。Theearliestriser，comingforthinthedimtwilight，wouldperceiveavaguelydefinedfigurealoftontheplaceofshame；and，halfcrazedbetwixtalarmandcuriosity，wouldgo，knockingfromdoortodoor，summoningallthepeopletobeholdtheghost—asheneedsmustthinkit—ofsomedefuncttransgressor。A
　　duskytumultwouldflapitswingsfromonehousetoanother。Then—themorninglightstillwaxingstronger—oldpatriarchswouldriseupingreathaste，eachinhisflannelgown，andmatronlydames，withoutpausingtoputofftheirnight—gear。Thewholetribeofdecorouspersonages，whohadneverheretoforebeenseenwithasinglehairoftheirheadsawry，wouldstartintopublicview，withthedisorderofanightmareintheiraspects。OldGovernorBellinghamwouldcomegrimlyforth，withhisKingJamesrufffastenedaskew；andMistressHibbins，withsometwigsoftheforestclingingtoherskirts，andlookingsourerthanever，ashavinghardlygotawinkofsleepafterhernightride；andgoodFatherWilson，too，afterspendinghalfthenightatadeath—bed，andlikingilltobedisturbed，thusearly，outofhisdreamsabouttheglorifiedsaints。Hither，likewise，wouldcometheeldersanddeaconsofMrDimmesdale’schurch，andtheyoungvirginswhosoidolisedtheirminister，andhadmadeashrineforhimintheirwhitebosoms；whichnow，by—the—bye，intheirhurryandconfusion，theywouldscantilyhavegiventhemselvestimetocoverwiththeirkerchiefs。Allpeople，inaword，wouldcomestumblingovertheirthresholds，andturninguptheiramazedandhorror—strickenvisagesaroundthescaffold。Whomwouldtheydiscernthere，withtheredeasternlightuponhisbrow？Whom，buttheReverendArthurDimmesdale，halffrozentodeath，overwhelmedwithshame，andstandingwhereHesterPrynnehadstood！
　　Carriedawaybythegrotesquehorrorofthispicture，theminister，unawares，andtohisowninfinitealarm，burstintoagreatpealoflaughter。Itwasimmediatelyrespondedtobyalight，airy，childishlaugh，inwhich，withathrilloftheheart—butheknewnotwhetherofexquisitepain，orpleasureasacute—herecognisedthetonesoflittlePearl。
　　"Pearl！LittlePearl！"criedhe，afteramoment’spause；then，suppressinghisvoice—"Hester！HesterPrynne！Areyouthere？"
　　"Yes；itisHesterPrynne！"shereplied，inatoneofsurprise；
　　andtheministerheardherfootstepsapproachingfromthesidewalk，alongwhichshehadbeenpassing。"ItisI，andmylittlePearl。"
　　"Whencecomeyou，Hester？"askedtheminister。"Whatsentyouhither？"
　　"Ihavebeenwatchingatadeath—bed，"answeredHesterPrynne—"atGovernorWinthrop’sdeath—bed，andhavetakenhismeasureforarobe，andamnowgoinghomewardtomydwelling。"
　　"Comeuphither，Hester，thouandlittlePearl，"saidtheReverendMr。Dimmesdale。"Yehavebothbeenherebefore，butIwasnotwithyou。Comeuphitheronceagain，andwewillstandallthreetogether！"
　　Shesilentlyascendedthesteps，andstoodontheplatform，holdinglittlePearlbythehand。Theministerfeltforthechild’sotherhand，andtookit。Themomentthathedidso，therecamewhatseemedatumultuousrushofnewlife，otherlifethanhisown，pouringlikeatorrentintohisheart，andhurryingthroughallhisveins，asifthemotherandthechildwerecommunicatingtheirvitalwarmthtohishalf—torpidsystem。Thethreeformedanelectricchain。
　　"Minister！"whisperedlittlePearl。
　　"Whatwouldstthousay，child？"askedMr。Dimmesdale。
　　"Wiltthoustandherewithmotherandme，to—morrownoontide？"
　　inquiredPearl。
　　"Nay；notso，mylittlePearl，"answeredtheminister；for，withthenewenergyofthemoment，allthedreadofpublicexposure，thathadsolongbeentheanguishofhislife，hadreturneduponhim；andhewasalreadytremblingattheconjunctioninwhich—withastrangejoy，nevertheless—henowfoundhimself。"Notso，mychild。Ishall，indeed，standwiththymotherandtheeoneotherday，butnotto—morrow。"
　　Pearllaughed，andattemptedtopullawayherhand。Buttheministerhelditfast。
　　"Amomentlonger，mychild！"saidhe。
　　"Butwiltthoupromise，"askedPearl，"totakemyhand，andmother’shand，to—morrownoontide？"
　　"Notthen，Pearl，"saidtheminister，"butanothertime。"
　　"Andwhatothertime？"persistedthechild。
　　"Atthegreatjudgmentday，"whisperedtheminister—and，strangelyenough，thesensethathewasaprofessionalteacherofthetruthimpelledhimtoanswerthechildso。"Then，andthere，beforethejudgment—seat，thymother，andthou，andI，muststandtogether。Butthedaylightofthisworldshallnotseeourmeeting！"
　　Pearllaughedagain。
　　But，beforeMr。Dimmesdalehaddonespeaking，alightgleamedfarandwideoverallthemuffledsky。Itwasdoubtlesscausedbyoneofthosemeteorswhichthenight—watchermaysooftenobserveburningouttowaste，inthevacantregionsoftheatmosphere。Sopowerfulwasitsradiance，thatitthoroughlyilluminatedthedensemediumofcloudbetwixttheskyandearth。Thegreatvaultbrightened，likethedomeofanimmenselamp。Itshowedthefamiliarsceneofthestreet，withthedistinctnessofmid—day，butalsowiththeawfulnessthatisalwaysimpartedtofamiliarobjectsbyanunaccustomedlight。Thewoodenhouses，withtheirjuttingstoriesandquaintgable—peaks；
　　thedoor—stepsandthresholds，withtheearlygrassspringingupaboutthem；thegarden—plots，blackwithfreshlyturnedearth；thewheel—track，littleworn，and，eveninthemarket—place，marginedwithgreenoneithersideall—werevisible，butwithasingularityofaspectthatseemedtogiveanothermoralinterpretationtothethingsofthisworldthantheyhadeverbornebefore。Andtherestoodtheminister，withhishandoverhisheart；andHesterPrynne，withtheembroideredletterglimmeringonherbosom；andlittlePearl，herselfasymbol，andtheconnectinglinkbetweenthosetwo。Theystoodinthenoonofthatstrangeandsolemnsplendour，asifitwerethelightthatistorevealallsecrets，andthedaybreakthatshalluniteallwhobelongtooneanother。
　　TherewaswitchcraftinlittlePearl’seyes；andherface，assheglancedupwardattheminister，worethatnaughtysmilewhichmadeitsexpressionfrequentlysoelvish。ShewithdrewherhandfromMr。
　　Dimmesdale’s，andpointedacrossthestreet。Butheclaspedbothhishandsoverhisbreast，andcasthiseyestowardsthezenith。
　　Nothingwasmorecommon，inthosedays，thantointerpretallmeteoricappearances，andothernaturalphenomena，thatoccurredwithlessregularitythantheriseandsetofsunandmoon，assomanyrevelationsfromasupernaturalsource。Thus，ablazingspear，aswordofflame，abow，orasheafofarrows，seeninthemidnightsky，prefiguredIndianwarfare。Pestilencewasknowntohavebeenforebodedbyashowerofcrimsonlight。Wedoubtwhetheranymarkedevent，forgoodorevil，everbefellNewEngland，fromitssettlementdowntoRevolutionarytimes，ofwhichtheinhabitantshadnotbeenpreviouslywarnedbysomespectacleofthisnature。Notseldom，ithadbeenseenbymultitudes。Oftener，however，itscredibilityrestedonthefaithofsomelonelyeye—witness，whobeheldthewonderthroughthecoloured，magnifying，anddistortingmediumofhisimagination，andshapeditmoredistinctlyinhisafterthought。Itwas，indeed，amajesticidea，thatthedestinyofnationsshouldberevealed，intheseawfulhieroglyphics，onthecopeofheaven。AscrollsowidemightnotbedeemedtooexpansiveforProvidencetowriteapeople’sdoomupon。Thebeliefwasafavouriteonewithourforefathers，asbetokeningthattheirinfantcommonwealthwasunderacelestialguardianshipofpeculiarintimacyandstrictness。Butwhatshallwesay，whenanindividualdiscoversarevelation，addressedtohimselfalone，onthesamevastsheetofrecord！Insuchacase，itcouldonlybethesymptomofahighlydisorderedmentalstate，whenaman，renderedmorbidlyself—contemplativebylong，intense，andsecretpain，hadextendedhisegotismoverthewholeexpanseofnature，untilthefirmamentitselfshouldappearnomorethanafittingpageforhissoul’shistoryandfate！
　　Weimputeit，therefore，solelytothediseaseinhisowneyeandheart，thattheminister，lookingupwardtothezenith，beheldtheretheappearanceofanimmenseletter—theletterA—markedoutinlinesofdullredlight。Notbutthemeteormayhaveshownitselfatthatpoint，burningduskilythroughaveilofcloud；butwithnosuchshapeashisguiltyimaginationgaveit；or，atleast，withsolittledefiniteness，thatanother’sguiltmighthaveseenanothersymbolinit。
　　TherewasasingularcircumstancethatcharacterisedMr。
　　Dimmesdale’spsychologicalstateatthismoment。Allthetimethathegazedupwardtothezenith，hewas，nevertheless，perfectlyawarethatlittlePearlwaspointingherfingertowardsoldRogerChillingworth，whostoodatnogreatdistancefromthescaffold。Theministerappearedtoseehim，withthesameglancethatdiscernedthemiraculousletter。Tohisfeatures，astoallotherobjects，themeteoriclightimpartedanewexpression；oritmightwellbethatthephysicianwasnotcarefulthen，asatallothertimes，tohidethemalevolencewithwhichhelookeduponhisvictim。Certainly，ifthemeteorkindledupthesky，anddisclosedtheearth，withanawfulnessthatadmonishedHesterPrynneandtheclergymanofthedayofjudgment，thenmightRogerChillingworthhavepassedwiththemforthearch—fiend，standingtherewithasmileandscowl，toclaimhisown。Sovividwastheexpression，orsointensetheminister’sperceptionofit，thatitseemedstilltoremainpaintedonthedarkness，afterthemeteorhadvanished，withaneffectasifthestreetandallthingselsewereatonceannihilated。
　　"Whoisthatman，Hester？"gaspedMr。Dimmesdale，overcomewithterror。"Ishiverathim！Dostthouknowtheman？Ihatehim，Hester！"
　　Sherememberedheroath，andwassilent。
　　"Itellthee，mysoulshiversathim！"mutteredtheministeragain。"Whoishe？Whoishe？Canstthoudonothingforme？Ihaveanamelesshorroroftheman！"
　　"Minister，"saidlittlePearl，"Icantelltheewhoheis！"
　　"Quickly，then，child！"saidtheminister，bendinghisearclosetoherlips。"Quickly！—andaslowasthoucanstwhisper。"
　　Pearlmumbledsomethingintohisear，thatsounded，indeed，likehumanlanguage，butwasonlysuchgibberishaschildrenmaybeheardamusingthemselveswith，bythehourtogether。Atallevents，ifitinvolvedanysecretinformationinregardtooldRogerChillingworth，itwasinatongueunknowntotheeruditeclergyman，anddidbutincreasethebewildermentofhismind。Theelvishchildthenlaughedaloud。
　　"Dostthoumockmenow？"saidtheminister。
　　"Thouwastnotbold！—thouwastnottrue！"answeredthechild。"Thouwouldstnotpromisetotakemyhand，andmother’shand，to—morrownoontide！"
　　"Worthysir，"answeredthephysician，whohadnowadvancedtothefootoftheplatform。"PiousMasterDimmesdale！canthisbeyou？Well，well，indeed！Wemenofstudy，whoseheadsareinourbooks，haveneedtobestraitlylookedafter！Wedreaminourwakingmoments，andwalkinoursleep。Come，goodsir，andmydearfriend，Iprayyou，letmeleadyouhome！"
　　"HowknewestthouthatIwashere？"askedtheministerfearfully。
　　"Verily，andingoodfaith，"answeredRogerChillingworth，"Iknewnothingofthematter。IhadspentthebetterpartofthenightatthebedsideoftheworshipfulGovernorWinthrop，doingwhatmypoorskillmighttogivehimease。Hegoinghometoabetterworld，I，likewise，wasonmywayhomeward，whenthisstrangelightshoneout。
　　Comewithme，Ibeseechyou，reverendsir；elseyouwillbepoorlyabletodoSabbathdutyto—morrow。Aha！seenow，howtheytroublethebrain—thesebooks！—thesebooks！Youshouldstudyless，goodsir，andtakealittlepastime；orthesenight—whimseyswillgrowuponyou。"
　　"Iwillgohomewithyou，"saidMr。Dimmesdale。
　　Withachilldespondency，likeoneawaking，allnerveless，fromanuglydream，beyieldedhimselftothephysician，andwasledaway。
　　Thenextday，however，beingtheSabbath，hepreachedadiscoursewhichwasheldtobetherichestandmostpowerful，andthemostrepletewithheavenlyinfluences，thathadeverproceededfromhislips。Souls，itissaid，moresoulsthanone，werebroughttothetruthbytheefficacyofthatsermon，andvowedwithinthemselvestocherishaholygratitudetowardsMr。Dimmesdalethroughoutthelonghereafter。But，ashecamedownthepulpitsteps，thegrey—beardedsextonmethim，holdingupablackglove，whichtheministerrecognisedashisown。
　　"Itwasfound，"saidthesexton，"thismorning，onthescaffoldwhereevil—doersaresetuptopublicshame。Satandroppeditthere，I
　　takeit，intendingascurrilousjestagainstyourreverence。But，indeed，hewasblindandfoolish，asheeverandalwaysis。Apurehandneedsnoglovetocoverit！"
　　"Thankyou，mygoodfriend，"saidtheministergravely，butstartledatheart；for，soconfusedwashisremembrance，thathehadalmostbroughthimselftolookattheeventsofthepastnightasvisionary。"Yes，itseemstobemyglove，indeed！"
　　"And，sinceSatansawfittostealit，yourreverencemustneedshandlehimwithoutgloves，henceforward，"remarkedtheoldsexton，grimlysmiling。"Butdidyourreverencehearoftheportentthatwasseenlastnight？—agreatredletterinthesky—theletterA，whichweinterprettostandforAngel。For，asourgoodGovernorWinthropwasmadeanangelthispastnight，itwasdoubtlessheldfitthatthereshouldbesomenoticethereof！"
　　"No，"answeredtheminister，"Ihadnotheardofit。"
　　XIII。
　　ANOTHERVIEWOFHESTER。
　　INherlatesingularinterviewwithMr。Dimmesdale，HesterPrynnewasshockedattheconditiontowhichshefoundtheclergymanreduced。
　　Hisnerveseemedabsolutelydestroyed。Hismoralforcewasabasedintomorethanchildishweakness。Itgrovelledhelplessontheground，evenwhilehisintellectualfacultiesretainedtheirpristinestrength，orhadperhapsacquiredamorbidenergy，whichdiseaseonlycouldhavegiventhem。Withherknowledgeofatrainofcircumstanceshiddenfromallothers，shecouldreadilyinferthat，besidesthelegitimateactionofhisownconscience，aterriblemachineryhadbeenbroughttobear，andwasstilloperating，onMr。Dimmesdale’swell—beingandrepose。Knowingwhatthispoorfallenmanhadoncebeen，herwholesoulwasmovedbytheshudderingterrorwithwhichhehadappealedtoher—theoutcastwoman—forsupportagainsthisinstinctivelydiscoveredenemy。Shedecided，moreover，thathehadarighttoherutmostaid。Littleaccustomed，inherlongseclusionfromsociety，tomeasureherideasofrightandwrongbyanystandardexternaltoherself，Hestersaw—orseemedtosee—thattherelayaresponsibilityuponher，inreferencetotheclergyman，whichsheowedtonoother，nortothewholeworldbesides。Thelinksthatunitedhertotherestofhumankind—linksofflowers，orsilk，orgold，orwhateverthematerial—hadallbeenbroken。Herewastheironlinkofmutualcrime，whichneitherhenorshecouldbreak。Likeallotherties，itbroughtalongwithititsobligations。
　　HesterPrynnedidnotnowoccupypreciselythesamepositioninwhichwebeheldherduringtheearlierperiodsofherignominy。
　　Yearshadcomeandgone。Pearlwasnowsevenyearsold。Hermother，withthescarletletteronherbreast，glitteringinitsfantasticembroidery，hadlongbeenafamiliarobjecttothetownspeople。Asisapttobethecasewhenapersonstandsoutinanyprominencebeforethecommunity，and，atthesametime，interferesneitherwithpublicnorindividualinterestsandconvenience，aspeciesofgeneralregardhadultimatelygrownupinreferencetoHesterPrynne。Itistothecreditofhumannature，that，exceptwhereitsselfishnessisbroughtintoplay，itlovesmorereadilythanithates。
　　Hatred，byagradualandquietprocess，willevenbetransformedtolove，unlessthechangebeimpededbyacontinuallynewirritationoftheoriginalfeelingofhostility。InthismatterofHesterPrynne，therewasneitherirritationnorirksomeness。Sheneverbattledwiththepublic，butsubmitted，uncomplainingly，toitsworstusage；shemadenoclaimuponit，inrequitalforwhatshesuffered；shedidnotweighuponitssympathies。Then，also，theblamelesspurityofherlifeduringalltheseyearsinwhichshehadbeensetaparttoinfamy，wasreckonedlargelyinherfavour。Withnothingnowtolose，inthesightofmankind，andwithnohope，andseeminglynowish，ofgaininganything，itcouldonlybeagenuineregardforvirtuethathadbroughtbackthepoorwanderertoitspaths。
　　Itwasperceived，too，thatwhileHesterneverputforwardeventhehumblesttitletoshareintheworld’sprivileges—furtherthantobreathethecommonair，andearndailybreadforlittlePearlandherselfbythefaithfullabourofherhands—shewasquicktoacknowledgehersisterhoodwiththeraceofman，wheneverbenefitsweretobeconferred。Nonesoreadyasshetogiveofherlittlesubstancetoeverydemandofpoverty；eventhoughthebitter—heartedpauperthrewbackagibeinrequitalofthefoodbroughtregularlytohisdoor，orthegarmentswroughtforhimbythefingersthatcouldhaveembroideredamonarch’srobe。Nonesoself—devotedasHester，whenpestilencestalkedthroughthetown。Inallseasonsofcalamity，indeed，whethergeneralorofindividuals，theoutcastofsocietyatoncefoundherplace。Shecame，notasaguest，butasarightfulinmateintothehouseholdthatwasdarkenedbytrouble；asifitsgloomytwilightwereamediuminwhichshewasentitledtoholdintercoursewithherfellow—creatures。Thereglimmeredtheembroideredletter，withcomfortinitsunearthlyray。Elsewherethetokenofsin，itwasthetaperofthesick—chamber。Ithadeventhrownitsgleam，inthesufferer’shardextremity，acrossthevergeoftime。Ithadshownhimwheretosethisfoot，whilethelightofearthwasfastbecomingdim，anderethelightoffuturitycouldreachhim。Insuchemergencies，Hester’snatureshoweditselfwarmandrich；awell—springofhumantenderness，unfailingtoeveryrealdemand，andinexhaustiblebythelargest。Herbreast，withitsbadgeofshame，wasbutthesofterpillowfortheheadthatneededone。Shewasself—ordainedaSisterofMercy；or，wemayrathersay，theworld’sheavyhandhadsoordainedher，whenneithertheworldnorshelookedforwardtothisresult。Theletterwasthesymbolofhercalling。Suchhelpfulnesswasfoundinher—somuchpowertodo，andpowertosympathise—thatmanypeoplerefusedtointerpretthescarletAbyitsoriginalsignification。TheysaidthatitmeantAble；sostrongwasHesterPrynne，withawoman’sstrength。
　　Itwasonlythedarkenedhousethatcouldcontainher。Whensunshinecameagain，shewasnotthere。Hershadowhadfadedacrossthethreshold。Thehelpfulinmatehaddeparted，withoutonebackwardglancetogatherupthemeedofgratitude，ifanywereintheheartsofthosewhomshehadservedsozealously。Meetingtheminthestreet，sheneverraisedherheadtoreceivetheirgreeting。Iftheywereresolutetoaccosther，shelaidherfingeronthescarletletterandpassedon。Thismightbepride，butwassolikehumility，thatitproducedallthesofteninginfluenceofthelatterqualityonthepublicmind。Thepublicisdespoticinitstemper；itiscapableofdenyingcommonjustice，whentoostrenuouslydemandedasaright；
　　butquiteasfrequentlyitawardsmorethanjusticewhentheappealismade，asdespotslovetohaveitmade，entirelytoitsgenerosity。
　　InterpretingHesterPrynne’sdeportmentasanappealofthisnature，societywasinclinedtoshowitsformervictimamorebenigncountenancethanshecaredtobefavouredwith，or，perchance，thanshedeserved。