might be that of rouging the venerable cheeks of
one's grandmother. But the hand that renovates is always more
sacrilegious than that which destroys. In fine, we gathered up our
household goods, drank a farewell cup of tea in our pleasant little
breakfast-room--delicately fragrant tea, an unpurchasable luxury, one
of the many angel gifts that had fallen like dew upon us--and passed
forth between the tall stone gate-posts, as uncertain as the wandering
Arabs where our tent might next be pitched. Providence took me by the
hand, and--an oddity of dispensation which, I trust, there is no
irreverence in smiling at--has led me, as the newspapers announce,
while I am writing from the Old Manse, into a custom-house.[76] As a
story-teller I have often contrived strange vicissitudes for my
imaginary personages, but none like this.

[Footnote 76: A reference to his appointment to a position in the
Boston Custom-house.]

II

ARTHUR DIMMESDALE ON THE SCAFFOLD[77]

The crowd was in a tumult. The men of rank and dignity, who stood more
immediately around the clergyman, were so taken by surprize, and so
perplexed as to the purport of what they saw--unable to receive the
explanation which most readily presented itself, or to imagine any
other--that they remained silent and inactive spectators of the
judgment which Providence seemed about to work. They beheld the
minister, leaning on Hester's shoulder, and supported by her arm
around him, approach the scaffold, and ascend its steps; while still
the little hand of the sin-born child was clasped in his. Old Roger
Chillingworth followed, as one intimately connected with the drama of
guilt and sorrow in which they had all been actors, and well entitled,
therefore, to be present at its closing scene.

[Footnote 77: From Chapters XIII and XIV of "The Scarlet Letter,"
published by Houghton, Mifflin & Company.]

"Hadst thou sought the whole earth over," said he, looking darkly at
the clergyman, "there was no one place so secret--no high place nor
lowly place, where thou couldst have escaped me--save on this very
scaffold!"

"Thanks be to Him who hath led me hither!" answered the minister.

Yet he trembled, and turned to Hester with an expression of doubt and
anxiety in his eyes, not the less evidently betrayed that there was a
feeble smile upon his lips.

"Is not this better," murmured he, "than what we dreamed of in the
forest?"

"I know not! I know not!" she hurriedly rep