The Scarlet Letter

We impute it, therefore, solely to the disease in his own eye

and heart that the minister, looking upward to the zenith,

beheld there the appearance of an immense letter--the letter

A--marked out in lines of dull red light. Not but the meteor may

have shown itself at that point, burning duskily through a veil

of cloud, but with no such shape as his guilty imagination gave

it, or, at least, with so little definiteness, that another's

guilt might have seen another symbol in it.

There was a singular circumstance that characterised Mr.

Dimmesdale's psychological state at this moment. All the time

that he gazed upward to the zenith, he was, nevertheless,

perfectly aware that little Pearl was pointing her finger towards

old Roger Chillingworth, who stood at no great distance from the

scaffold. The minister appeared to see him, with the same glance

that discerned the miraculous letter. To his feature as to all

other objects, the meteoric light imparted a new expression; or

it might well be that the physician was not careful then, as at

all other times, to hide the malevolence with which he looked

upon his victim. Certainly, if the meteor kindled up the sky,

and disclosed the earth, with an awfulness that admonished

Hester Prynne and the clergyman of the day of judgment, then

might Roger Chillingworth have passed with them for the

arch-fiend, standing there with a smile and scowl, to claim his

own. So vivid was the expression, or so intense the minister's

perception of it, that it seemed still to remain painted on the

darkness after the meteor had vanished, with an effect as if the

street and all things else were at once annihilated.

"Who is that man, Hester?" gasped Mr. Dimmesdale, overcome with

terror. "I shiver at him! Dost thou know the man? I hate him,

Hester!"

She remembered her oath, and was silent.

"I tell thee, my soul shivers at him!" muttered the minister

again. "Who is he? Who is he? Canst thou do nothing for me? I

have a nameless horror of the man!"

"Minister," said little Pearl, "I can tell thee who he is!"

"Quickly, then, child!" said the minister, bending his ear close

to her lips. "Quickly, and as low as thou canst whisper."

Pearl mumbled something into his ear that sounded, indeed, like

human language, but was only such gibberish as children may be

heard amusing themselves with by the hour together. At all

events, if it involved any secret information in regard to old

Roger Chillingworth, it was in a tongue unknown to the erudite

clergyman, and did but increase the bewilderment of his mind.

The elvish child then laughed aloud.

"Dost thou mock me now?" said the minister.

"Thou wast not bold!--thou wast not true!" answered the child.

"Thou wouldst not promise to take my hand, and mother's hand,

to-morrow noon-tide!"