will be
a living sermon against sin, until the ignominious
letter be engraved upon her tombstone. It
irks me, nevertheless, that the partner of
her iniquity should not at least, stand on
the scaffold by her side. But he will be known—he
will be known!—he will be known!"
He bowed courteously to the communicative
townsman, and whispering a few words to his
Indian attendant, they both made their way
through the crowd.
While this passed, Hester Prynne had been
standing on her pedestal, still with a fixed
gaze towards the stranger—so fixed a gaze
that, at moments of intense absorption, all
other objects in the visible world seemed
to vanish, leaving only him and her. Such
an interview, perhaps, would have been more
terrible than even to meet him as she now
did, with the hot mid-day sun burning down
upon her face, and lighting up its shame;
withthe scarlet token of infamy on her breast;
with the sin-born infant in her arms; with
a whole people, drawn forth as to a festival,
staring at the features that should have been
seen only in the quiet gleam of the fireside,
in the happy shadow of a home, or beneath
a matronly veil at church. Dreadful as it
was, she was conscious of a shelter in the
presence of these thousand witnesses. It was
better to stand thus, with so many betwixt
him and her, than to greet him face to face—they
two alone. She fled for refuge, as it were,
to the public exposure, and dreaded the moment
when its protection should be withdrawn from
her. Involved in these thoughts, she scarcely
heard a voice behind her until it had repeated
her name more than once, in a loud and solemn
tone, audible