who had done and suffered these things, and written thus far
into the Election Sermon! But he seemed to stand apart, and eye this
former self with scornful, pitying, but half-envious curiosity. That
self was gone. Another man had returned out of the forest; a wiser
one; with a knowledge of hidden mysteries which the simplicity of the
former never could have reached. A bitter kind of knowledge that!

While occupied with these reflections, a knock came at the door of the
study, and the minister said, "Come in!"--not wholly devoid of an idea
that he might behold an evil spirit. And so he did! It was old Roger
Chillingworth that entered. The minister stood, white and speechless,
with one hand on the Hebrew Scriptures, and the other spread upon his
breast.

"Welcome home, reverend Sir," said the physician. "And how found you
that godly man, the Apostle Eliot? But methinks, dear Sir, you look
pale; as if the travel through the wilderness had been too sore for
you. Will not my aid be requisite to put you in heart and strength to
preach your Election Sermon?"

"Nay, I think not so," rejoined the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale. "My
journey, and the sight of the holy Apostle yonder, and the free air
which I have breathed, have done me good, after so long confinement in
my study. I think to need no more of your drugs, my kind physician,
good though they be, and administered by a friendly hand."

All this time, Roger Chillingworth was looking at the minister with
the grave and intent regard of a physician towards his patient. But,
in spite of this outward show, the latter was almost convinced of the
old man's knowledge, or, at least, his confident suspicion, with
respect to his own interview with Hester Prynne. The physician knew
then, that, in the minister's regard, he was no longer a trusted
friend, but his bitterest enemy. So much being known, it would appear
natural that a part of it should be expressed. It is singular,
however, how long a time often passes before words embody things; and
with what security two persons, who choose to avoid a certain subject,
may approach its very verge, and retire without disturbing it. Thus,
the minister felt no apprehension that Roger Chillingworth would
touch, in express words, upon the real position which they sustained
towards one another. Yet did the physician, in his dark way, creep
frightfully near the secret.

"Were it not better," said he, "that you use my poor skill to-night?
Verily,