The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1893-08-04

the melancholy OTOOk would add this
other tale to the mystery with which it's
little heart was already oHerburdened
and whereof it still kept up murmur-
ing babble, with not whit more cheer
fulness Of tone than for ages heretofore.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MINISTER IN A MAZE.
As the minister departed in advance
of Hester Prynne and little Pearl he
threw backward glance, half expect
ing that he should discover only some
family traced features or outline of the
mother and the child slowly fading into
the twilight Of the woods. So great a
vicissitude in his life could not at once
be received as real. But there was Hes
ter, clad in her gray robe, still standing
beside the tree trunk, which some blast
had overthrown a long antiquity ago
and which had ever since been covering
with moss, so that these two fated ones,
with earth's heaviest burden on them,
might there sit down together and find
a single hours rest and solace. And
there was Pearl, too, lightly dancing
from the margin of the brook-now that
the intrusive third person was gone
and taking her old place by her mothers
side. So the minister had not fallen
asleep and dreamed.
In order to free his mind from this in
distinctness and duplicity of impression,
which vexed it with a strange dis
quietude, he recalled and more thor
oughly defined the plans which Hester
and himself had sketched for their de-
parture. It had been determined be-
tween them that the Old World, with
its crowds and cities, offered them a
more eligible shelter and concealment
than the wilds of New England or all
America, with its alternatives of an In
dian wigwam or the few settlements of
Europeans scattered thinly along the
seaboard. Not to speak of the clergy
mans health, so inadequate to sustain
the hardships of forest life, his native
gifts, his culture and his entire develop
ment would secure him home only In
the midst of civilization and refinement;
the higher the state the more delicately
adapted to it the man.
In furtherance of this choice, it so hap
pened that a ship lay in the harbor; one
of those questionable cruisers frequent
at that day, which, without being abso-
lutely outlaws of the deep, yet roamed
sponsibility Of character. This vessel
had recently arrived from the Spanish
Main, and within three days time would
sail for Bristol. Hester Prynne-whose
vocation, as a self enlisted sister of
charity, had brought her acquainted
with the captain and crew-could take
upon herself to secure the passage of two
individuals and child with all the Sc
crecy which circumstances rendered
more than desirable.
The minister had inquired of Hester,
with no little interest, the precise time
at which the vessel might be expected to
depart. It would probably be on the
fourth day from the present. ''That is
most fortunateI" he had then said to him
self. Now, why the Reverend Mr.. Dim
mesdale considered it so very fortunate,
we hesitate to reveal. Nevertheless, to
hold nothing back from the reader, it
was because on the third day from the
present he was to preach the election
sermon, and as such an occasion formed
an honorable epoch in the life of New
England clergyman he could not have
CHANGED upon more suitable mode and
time of terminating his professional Ca
reer.
SAT least they shall say of me-
thought this exemplary man, "that l
leave no public duty unperformed no.
Ill performedr' Sad, indeed, that an in
trospection so profound and acute as
this poor minister's should be so misera-
bly, deceived We have had and may
still have worse things to tell of him,
but none we apprehend so pitiably
weak; no evidence, at once so slight and
irrefragable, of a subtle disease that had
long since begun to eat into the real
substance of his character. No man for
any considerable period can wear one
face to himself and another to the null
titude without finally getting bewildered
as to which may be the true.
The excitement of Mr.. Dimmesdales
feelings as he returned from his inter-
view with Hester lent him unaccus-
toned physical energy and hurried him
downward at a rapid pace. The path
way among the woods seemed wilder,
more uncouth with its rude natural OBJ
stacles, and less trodden by the foot of
man, than he remembered it on his out
ward journey. But he leaped across
the plashy places, thrust himself
through the clinging underbrush,
climbed the ascent, plunged into the
hollow, and overcame, in short, all the
difficulties of the track with an I'M
weariable activity that astonished him.
He could not but recall how feebly, and
with what frequent pauses for breath,
he had toiled over the same ground
only two days before. AS he drew near
the town he took an impression of
change from the series of familiar OBJ
jects that presented themselves. 1t
seemed not yesterday, not one, not two,
but many days, or even years ago, since
he had Quilted them. There, indeed,
was each former trace of the street, as
he remembered it. and all the peculiar
tiles of the houses, with the due multi
tude of gable peaks, and weathercock
at every point where his memory sug-
gested one.
Not the less, however, came this i'm
Fortunately obtrusive sense of change.
The same was true as regarded the &C
quaintances whom he met, and all the
well known shapes of human life about
the little town. They looked neither
older nor younger now; the boards of
the aged were no whittier, nor could the
creeping babe of yesterday walk on his
foot TODAY. If WAS iTnDOSSihla tO describe