The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1893-07-21

Il
| purpose. By means of them the suffer
er's conscience had been kept in an irri-
tated state, the tendency of which was
not to cure by wholesome pain. but to
disorganize and corrupt his spiritual
being. Its result on earth could hardly
| tail TO be insanity, and hereafter that
eternal alienation from the good and
true, OF which madness is perhaps the
earthly type.
Such was the ruin to which she had
brought the man once-nay, why should
we not speak it-stin so passionately
lovedi Hester felt that the sacrifice of
the clergyman's good name, and death
itself, as she had already told Roger
Chilingworth, would have been infinite
~ preferable to the alternative which
she had taken upon herself to choose
And now, rather than have had this
grievous wrong to confess, she would
gladly have lain down on the forest
leaves and died there at Arthur Dimmes-
dale's feet.
so Arthur" cried she, forgive me!
In all things else l have striven to be
| truei Truth was the one virtue which
l might have held fast, and did hold
fast through all extremity, save when
thy good. thy life, thy fame, were put
in question! Then consented to a de-
ception. But lie is never good, even
though death threaten on the other side!
Dost thou not see what | would say?
That old man, the physician-he whom
they call Roger Chillingworth-he was
my husbandr'
The minister looked at her for an in
slant with all the violence of passion
which-intermixed,i in more shapes than
one, with his higher, purer, softer quail
ities-was, in fact, the portion of him
which the devil claimed and through
which he sought to win the rest. Never
was there blacker OF a fercer frown
| than Hester now encountered. For the
| brief space that it lasted it was dark
TRANSPORTATION. But his character had
been so much enfeebled by suffering
that even its lower energies were inca
pable of more than temporary struggle.
He sank down on the ground and buried
his face in his hands.
81 might have known it, murmured
| he. 81 did know 1T Was not the secret
told me in the natural recoil of my heart
at the first sight of him, and as often as
l have seen him since? Why did | not
/ understand? O. Hester Prynne, thou
little, little knowest all the horror of
this thingI And the shame!-the indel-
icacyl-the horrible ugliness of this ex-
| posture of sick and guilty heart to the
very eye that would gloat over it! We
man, woman, thou are accountable for
this! l cannot forgive thee!"
''Thou shalt forgive meT' cried Hester,
finging herself on the fallen leaves be-
side him. ''Let God punish! Thou
shalt forgiven
With sudden and desperate tenderness
she threw her arms around him and
pressed his head against her bosom, hit
tie caring though his cheek rested on
| the scarlet letter. He would have re-
leased himself, but strove in vain to dc
so. Hester would not set him free lest
| he should look her sternly in the face.
All the world had frowned on her-for
seven long years had it frowned upon
| this lonely woman-and still she bore it
all, nor ever once turned away her firm,
sad eyes. Heaven likewise had frowned
upon her and she had not died. But the
frown of this pale, weak, sinful and sor-
row stricken man was what Hester could
not bear and live.
"Wilt thou yet forgive me?" she re-
peated over and over again. wilt thou
not frown? Wilt thou forgiven"
81 do forgive you, Hester" replied the
minister at length, with deep utter
ance out of an abyss of sadness, but nc
anger. 81 freely forgive you now. May
God forgive US bothl We are not, Hes
| ter, the worst sinners in the world.
| I'M. = he Il
| luted priest. That old mans revenge
has been blacker than my sin. He has
violated, in cold blood, the sanctity of a
human heart. Thou and L. Hester,
never did So"
'sNever, never!' whispered she.
''What we did had a conservation of its
own. We felt it so! We said so TO
each otheri Hast thou forgotten i,
'.Hush, Hester!'' said Arthur Dinmes-
dale, rising from the ground. ''No;
have not forgotten"
They sat down again, side by side and
hand clasped in hand, on the messy
trunk Of the fallen tree. Life had never
brought them gloomier hour. 1t was
| the point whittier their pathway had SO
| long been tending and darkening ever
as it stole along, and yet it inclosed a
| charm that made them hnger upon it
and claim another and another and after
all another moment. The forest was
| obscure around them and creaked with
a blast that was passing through it.
The boughs were tossing heavily above
their heads, while one solemn old tree
| groaned dolefully to another, as if tell
| ing the sad story of the pair that sat be-
meath or constrained to forebode evil to
come.
And yet they fingered. How dreary
looked the forest track that led back
ward to the settlement, where Hester
Prynne must take up again the burden
of her ignominy and the minister the
hollow mockery of his good name. Sc
they fingered an instant longer. Nc
golden light had ever been so precious
| as the gloom of this dark forest. Here,
seen only by his eyes, the scarlet letter
need not burn into the bosom of the
fallen woman! Here, seen only by he1
eyes, Arthur Dimmesdale. false to God
and man. might be for one moment
true!
He started at thought that suddenly
occurred to him.
Hester" cried he. there is new hor
| CNJ,SIIiv,rrxr-r,v-fT, lzy,ox.-e. x-oT71