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rm；　imparting　ahard；　metallic　lustre　to　the　child's　character。　She　wanted…　whatsome　people　want　throughout　life…　a　grief　that　should　deeply　touchher；　and　thus　humanise　and　make　her　capable　of　sympathy。　But　there　wastime　enough　yet　for　little　Pearl。　　〃e；　my　child！〃　said　Hester；　looking　about　her　from　the　spot　wherePearl　had　stood　still　in　the　sunshine。　〃We　will　sit　down　a　littleway　within　the　wood；　and　rest　ourselves。〃　　〃I　am　not　aweary；　mother；〃　replied　the　little　girl。　〃But　you　may　sitdown；　if　you　will　tell　me　a　story　meanwhile。〃　　〃A　story；　child！〃　said　Hester。　〃And　about　what？〃　　〃Oh；　a　story　about　the　Black　Man；〃　answered　Pearl；　taking　hold　ofher　mother's　gown；　and　looking　up；　half　earnestly；　half　mischievously；into　her　face。　〃How　he　haunts　this　forest；　and　carries　a　book　withhim…　a　big；　heavy　book；　with　iron　clasps；　and　how　this　ugly　BlackMan　offers　his　book　and　an　iron　pen　to　everybody　that　meets　him　hereamong　the　trees；　and　they　are　to　write　their　names　with　their　ownblood。　And　then　he　sets　his　mark　on　their　bosoms！　Didst　thou　ever　meetthe　Black　Man；　mother？〃　　〃And　who　told　you　this　story；　Pearl？〃　asked　her　mother；recognising　a　mon　superstition　of　the　period。　　〃It　was　the　old　dame　in　the　chimney…corner；　at　the　house　where　youwatched　last　night；〃　said　the　child。　〃But　she　fancied　me　asleepwhile　she　was　talking　of　it。　She　said　that　a　thousand　and　a　thousandpeople　had　met　him　here；　and　had　written　in　his　book；　and　have　hismark　on　them。　And　that　ugly…tempered　lady；　old　Mistress　Hibbins；　wasone。　And；　mother；　the　old　dame　said　that　this　scarlet　letter　was　theBlack　Man's　mark　on　thee；　and　that　it　glows　like　a　red　flame　when　thoumeetest　him　at　midnight；　here　in　the　dark　wood。　Is　it　true；　mother？And　dost　thou　go　to　meet　him　in　the　night…time？〃　　〃Didst　thou　ever　awake；　and　find　thy　mother　gone？〃　asked　Hester。　　〃Not　that　I　remember；〃　said　the　child。　〃If　thou　fearest　to　leaveme　in　our　cottage；　thou　mightest　take　me　along　with　thee。　I　would　verygladly　go！　But；　mother；　tell　me　now！　Is　there　such　a　Black　Man？　Anddidst　thou　ever　meet　him？　And　is　this　his　mark？〃　　〃Wilt　thou　let　me　be　at　peace　if　I　once　tell　thee？〃　asked　hermother。　　〃Yes；　if　thou　tellest　me　all；〃　answered　Pearl。　　〃Once　in　my　life　I　met　the　Black　Man！〃　said　her　mother。　〃Thisscarlet　letter　is　his　mark！〃　　Thus　conversing；　they　entered　sufficiently　deep　into　the　wood　tosecure　themselves　from　the　observation　of　any　casual　passenger　alongthe　forest　track。　Here　they　sat　down　on　a　luxuriant　heap　of　moss；which；　at　some　epoch　of　the　preceding　century；　had　been　a　giganticpine；　with　its　roots　and　trunk　in　the　darksome　shade；　and　its　headaloft　in　the　upper　atmosphere。　It　was　a　little　dell　where　they　hadseated　themselves；　with　a　leaf…strewn　bank　rising　gently　on　eitherside；　and　a　brook　flowing　through　the　midst；　over　a　bed　of　fallenand　drowned　leaves。　The　trees　impending　over　it　had　flung　down　greatbranches；　from　time　to　time；　which　choked　up　the　current；　andpelled　it　to　form　eddies　and　black　depths　at　some　points；　while；　inits　swifter　and　livelier　passages；　there　appeared　a　channel…way　ofpebbles；　and　brown；　sparkling　sand。　Letting　the　eyes　follow　alongthe　course　of　the　stream；　they　could　catch　the　reflected　light　fromits　water；　at　some　short　distance　within　the　forest；　but　soon　lost　alltraces　of　it　amid　the　bewilderment　of　tree…trunks　and　underbrush；and　here　and　there　a　huge　rock　covered　over　with　grey　lichens。　Allthese　giant　trees　and　boulders　of　granite　seemed　intent　on　making　amystery　of　the　course　of　this　small　brook；　fearing；　perhaps；　that；with　its　never…ceasing　loquacity；　it　should　whisper　tales　out　of　theheart　of　the　old　forest　whence　it　flowed；　or　mirror　its　revelations　onthe　smooth　surface　of　a　pool。　Continually；　indeed；　as　it　stole　onward；the　streamlet　kept　up　a　babble；　kind；　quiet；　soothing；　but　melancholy；like　the　voice　of　a　young　child　that　was　spending　its　infancywithout　playfulness；　and　knew　not　how　to　be　merry　among　sadacquaintance　and　events　of　sombre　hue。　　〃O　brook！　O　foolish　and　tiresome　little　brook！〃　cried　Pearl；　afterlistening　awhile　to　its　talk。　〃Why　art　thou　so　sad？　Pluck　up　a　spirit；and　do　not　be　all　the　time　sighing　and　murmuring！〃　　But　the　brook；　in　the　course　of　its　little　lifetime　among　theforest…trees；　had　gone　through　so　solemn　an　experience　that　it　couldnot　help　talking　about　it；　and　seemed　to　have　nothing　else　to　say。Pearl　resembled　the　brook　inasmuch　as　the　current　of　her　life　gushedfrom　a　well…spring　as　mysterious；　and　had　flowed　through　scenesshadowed　as　heavily　with　gloom。　But；　unlike　the　little　stream；　shedanced　and　sparkled；　and　prattled　airily　along　her　course。　　〃What　does　this　sad　little　brook　say；　mother？〃　inquired　she。　　〃If　thou　hadst　a　sorrow　of　thine　own；　the　brook　might　tell　thee　ofit；〃　answered　her　mother；　〃even　as　it　is　telling　me　of　mine！　Butnow；　Pearl；　I　hear　a　footstep　along　the　path；　and　the　noise　of　oneputting　aside　the　branches。　I　would　have　thee　betake　thyself　toplay；　and　leave　me　to　speak　with　him　that　es　yonder。〃　　〃Is　it　the　Black　Man？〃　asked　Pearl。　　〃Wilt　thou　go　and　play；　child？〃　repeated　her　mother。　〃But　do　notstray　far　into　the　wood。　And　take　heed　that　thou　e　at　my　firstcall。〃　　　　〃Yes；　mother；〃　answered　Pearl。　〃But　if　it　be　the　Black　Man；　wiltthou　not　let　me　stay　a　moment；　and　look　at　him；　with　his　big　bookunder　his　arm？〃　　〃Go；　silly　child！〃　said　her　mother　impatiently。　〃It　is　no　Black　Man！Thou　canst　see　him　now；　through　the　trees。　It　is　the　minister！〃　　〃And　so　it　is！〃　said　the　child。　〃And；　mother；　he　has　his　hand　overhis　heart！　Is　it　because；　when　the　minister　wrote　his　name　in　thebook；　the　Black　Man　set　his　mark　in　that　place？　But　why　does　he　notwear　it　outside　his　bosom；　as　thou　dost；　mother？〃　　〃Go　now；　child；　and　thou　shalt　tease　me　as　thou　wilt　anothertime；〃　cried　Hester　Prynne。　〃But　do　not　stray　far。　Keep　where　thoucanst　hear　the　babble　of　the　brook。〃　　The　child　went　singing　away；　following　up　the　current　of　thebrook；　and　striving　to　mingle　a　more　lightsome　cadence　with　itsmelancholy　voice。　But　the　little　stream　would　not　be　forted；　andstill　kept　telling　its　unintelligible　secret　of　some　very　mournfulmystery　that　had　happened…　or　making　a　prophetic　lamentation　aboutsomething　that　was　yet　to　happen…　within　the　verge　of　the　dismalforest。　So　Pearl；　who　had　enough　of　shadow　in　her　own　little　life；chose　to　break　off　all　acquaintance　with　this　repining　brook。　Sheset　herself；　therefore；　to　gathering　violets　and　wood…anemones；　andsome　scarlet　columbines　that　she　found　growing　in　the　crevices　of　ahigh　rock。　　When　her　elf…child　had　departed；　Hester　Prynne　made　a　step　or　twotowards　the　track　that　led　through　the　forest；　but　still　remainedunder　the　deep　shadow　of　the　trees。　She　beheld　the　ministeradvancing　along　the　path；　entirely　alone；　and　leaning　on　a　staff　whichhe　had　cut　by　the　wayside。　He　looked　haggard　and　feeble；　andbetrayed　a　nerveless　despondency　in　his　air；　which　had　never　soremarkably　characterised　him　in　his　walks　about　the　settlement；　nor　inany　other　situation　where　he　deemed　himself　liable　to　notice。　Hereit　was　woefully　visible；　in　this　intense　seclusion　of　the　forest；which　of　itself　would　have　been　a　heavy　trial　to　the　spirits。　Therewas　a　listlessness　in　his　gait；　as　if　he　saw　no　reason　for　takingone　step　farther；　nor　felt　any　desire　to　do　so；　but　would　have　beenglad；　could　he　be　glad　of　anything；　to　fling　himself　down　at　theroot　of　the　nearest　tree；　and　lie　there　passive；　for　evermore。　Theleaves　might　bestrew　him；　and　the　soil　gradually　accumulate　and　form　alittle　hillock　over　his　frame；　no　matter　whether　there　were　life　in　itor　no。　Death　was　too　definite　an　object　to　be　wished　for；　or　avoided。　　To　Hester's　eye；　the　Reverend　Mr。　Dimmesdale　exhibited　no　symptom　ofpositive　and　vivacious　suffering；　except　that；　as　little　Pearl　hadremarked；　he　kept　his　hand　over　his　heart。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　XVII。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　THE　PASTOR　AND　HIS　PARISHIONER。　　SLOWLY　as　the　minister　walked；　he　had　almost　gone　by；　beforeHester　Prynne　could　gather　voice　enough　to　attract　his　observation。　Atlength；　she　succeeded。　　〃Arthur　Dimmesdale！〃　she　said；　faintly　at　first；　then　louder；　buthoarsely：　〃Arthur　Dimmesdale！〃　　〃Who　speaks？〃　answered　the　minister。　　Gathering　himself　quickly　up；　he　stood　more　erect；　like　a　mantaken　by　surprise　in　a　mood　to　which　he　was　reluctant　to　havewitnesses。　Throwing　his　eyes　anxiously　in　the　direction　of　thevoice；　he　indistinctly　beheld　a　form　under　the　trees；　clad　in　garmentsso；　sombre；　and　so　little　relieved　from　the　grey　twilight　into　whichthe　clouded　sky　and　the　heavy　foliage　had　darkened　the　noontide；that　he　knew　not　whether　it　were　a　woman　or　a　shadow。　It　may　be；that　his　pathway　through　life　was　haunted　thus；　by　a　spectre　thathad　stolen　out　from　among　his　thoughts。　　He　made　a　step　nigher；　and　discovered　the　scarlet　letter。　　〃Hester！　Hester　Prynne！〃　said　he。　〃Is　it　thou？　Art　thou　in　life？〃　　〃Even　so！〃　she　answered。　〃In　such　life　as　has　been　mine　theseseven　years　past！　And　thou；　Arthur　Dimmesdale；　dost　thou　yet　live？〃　　It　was　no　wonder　that　they　thus　questioned　one　another's　actualand　bodily　existence；　and　even　doubted　of　their　own。　So　strangelydid　they　meet；　in　the　dim　wood；　that　it　was　like　the　firstencounter；　in　the　world　beyond　the　grave；　of　two　spirits　who　hadbeen　intimately　connected　in　their　former　life；　but　now　stood　coldlyshuddering；　in　mutual　dread；　as　not　yet　familiar　with　their　state；　norwonted　to　the　panionship　of　disembodied　beings。　Each　a　ghost；　andawe…stricken　at　the　other　ghost！　They　were　awe…stricken　likewise　atthemselves；　because　the　crisis　flung　back　to　them　their　consciousness；and　revealed　to　each　heart　its　history　and　experience；　as　life　neverdoes；　except　at　such　breathless　epochs。　The　soul　beheld　its　featuresin　the　mirror　of　the　passing　moment。　It　was　with　fear；　andtremulously；　and；　as　it　were；　by　a　slow；　reluctant　necessity；　thatArthur　Dimmesdale　put　forth　his　hand；　chill　as　death；　and　touchedthe　chill　hand　of　Hester　Prynne。　The　grasp；　cold　as　it　was；　tookaway　what　was　dreariest　in　the　interview。　They　now　felt　themselves；　atleast；　inhabitants　of　the　same　sphere。　　Without　a　word　more　spoken…　neither　he　nor　she　assuming　theguidance；　but　with　an　unexpressed　consent…　they　glided　back　into　theshadow　of　the　woods；　whence　Hester　had　emerged；　and　sat　down　on　theheap　of　moss　where　she　and　Pearl　had　before　been　sitting。　When　theyfound　voice　to　speak；　it　was；　at　first；　only　to　utter　remarks　andinquiries　such　as　any　tight　have　made；　about　thegloomy　sky；　the　threatening　storm；　and；　next；　the　health　of　each。　Thusthey　went　onward；　not　boldly；　but　step　by　step；　into　the　themes　thatwere　brooding　deepest　in　their　hearts。　So　long　estranged　by　fate　andcircumstances；　they　needed　something　slight　and　casual　to　runbefore；　and　throw　open　the　doors　of　intercourse；　so　that　their　realthoughts　might　be　led　across　the　threshold。　　After　a　while；　the　minister　fixed　his　eyes　on　Hester　Prynne's。　　〃Hester；〃　said　he；　〃hast　thou　found　peace？〃　　She　smiled　drearily；　looking　down　upon　her　bosom。　　〃Hast　thou？〃　she　asked。　　〃None！…　nothing　but　despair！〃　he　answered。　〃What　else　could　I　lookfor；　being　what　I　am；　and　leading　such　a　life　as　mine？　Were　I　anatheist…　a　man　devoid　of　conscience…　a　wretch　with　coarse　and　brutalinstincts…　I　might　have　found　peace；　long　ere　now。　Nay；　I　never　shouldhave　lost　it！　But；　as　matters　stand　with　my　soul；　whatever　of　goodcapacity　there　originally　was　in　me；　all　of　God's　gifts　that　werethe　choicest　have　bee　the　ministers　of　spiritual　torment。　Hester；　Iam　most　miserable。〃　　〃The　people　reverence　thee；〃　said　Hester。　〃And　surely　thou　workestgood　among　them！　Doth　this　bring　thee　no　fort？〃　　〃More　misery；　Hester！…　only　the　more　misery！〃　answered　theclergyman；　with　a　bitter　smile。　〃As　concerns　the　good　which　I　mayappear　to　do；　I　have　no　faith　in　it。　It　must　needs　be　a　delusion。　Whatcan　a　ruined　soul；　like　mine；　effect　towards　the　redemption　of　othersouls？…　or　a　polluted　soul；　towards　their　purification？　And　as　for　thepeople's　reverence；　would　that　it　were　turned　to　scorn　and　hatred！Canst　thou　deem　it；　Hester；　a　consolation；　that　I　must　stand　up　inmy　pulpit；　and　meet　so　many　eyes　turned　upward　to　my　face；　as　if　thelight　of　heaven　were　beaming　from　it！…　must　see　my　flock　hungry　forthe　truth；　and　listening　to　my　words　as　if　a　tongue　of　Pentecostwere　speaking！…　and　then　look　inward；　and　discern　the　black　reality　ofwhat　they　idol