Chapter 13  ANOTHER VIEW OF HESTER

IN her late singular interview with Mr. Dimmesdale, Hester Prynne was shocked at the condition to which she found the clergyman reduced. His nerve seemed absolutely destroyed. His moral force was abased into more than childish weakness. It grovelled helpless on the ground, even while his intellectual faculties retained their pristine strength, or had perhaps acquired a morbid energy, which disease only could have given them. With her knowledge of a train of circumstances hidden from all others, she could readily infer that, besides the legitimate action of his own conscience, a terrible machinery had been brought to bear, and was still operating, on Mr. Dimmesdale's well-being and repose. Knowing what this poor fallen man had once been, her whole soul was moved by the shuddering terror with which he had appealed to her- the outcast woman- for support against his instinctively discovered enemy. She decided, moreover, that he had a right to her utmost aid. Little accustomed, in her long seclusion from society, to measure her ideas of right and wrong by any standard external to herself, Hester saw- or seemed to see- that there lay a responsibility upon her, in reference to the clergyman, which she owed to no other, nor to the whole world besides. The links that united her to the rest of human kind- links of flowers, or silk, or gold, or whatever the material- had all been broken. Here was the iron link of mutual crime, which neither he nor she could break. Like all other ties, it brought along with it its obligations.

Hester Prynne did not now occupy precisely the same position in which we beheld her during the earlier periods of her ignominy. Years had come and gone. Pearl was now seven years old. Her mother, with the scarlet letter on her breast, glittering in its fantastic embroidery, had long been a familiar object to the townspeople. As is apt to be the case when a person stands out in any prominence before the community, and, at the same time, interferes neither with public nor individual interests and convenience, a species of general regard had ultimately grown up in reference to Hester Prynne. It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love, unless the change be impeded by a continually new irritation of the original feeling of hostility. In this matter of Hester Prynne, there was neither irritation nor irksomeness. She never battled with the public, but submitted, uncomplainingly, to its worst usage; she made no claim upon it, in requital for what she suffered; she did not weigh upon its sympathies. Then, also, the blameless purity of her life during all these years in which she had been set apart to infamy, was reckoned largely in her favour. With nothing now to lose, in the sight of mankind, and with no hope, and seemingly no wish, of gaining anything, it could only be a genuine regard for virtue that had brought back the poor wanderer to its paths.

It was perceived, too, that while Hester never put forward even the humblest title to share in the world's privileges- further than to breathe the common air, and earn daily bread for little Pearl and herself by the faithful labour of her hands- she was quick to acknowledge her sisterhood with the race of man, whenever benefits were to be conferred. None so ready as she to give of her little substance to every demand of poverty; even though the bitter-hearted pauper threw back a gibe in requital of the food brought regularly to his door, or the garments wrought for him by the fingers that could have embroidered a monarch's robe. None so self-devoted as Hester, when pestilence stalked through the town. In all seasons of calamity, indeed, whether general or of individuals, the outcast of society at once found her place. She came, not as a guest, but as a rightful inmate into the household that was darkened by trouble; as if its gloomy twilight were a medium in which she was entitled to hold intercourse with her fellow-creatures. There glimmered the embroidered letter, with comfort in its unearthly ray. Elsewhere the token of sin, it was the taper of the sick-chamber. It had even thrown its gleam, in the sufferer's hard extremity, across the verge of time. It had shown him where to set his foot, while the light of earth was fast becoming dim, and ere the light of futurity could reach him. In such emergencies, Hester's nature showed itself warm and rich; a well-spring of human tenderness, unfailing to every real demand, and inexhaustible by the largest. Her breast, with its badge of shame, was but the softer pillow for the head that needed one. She was self-ordained a Sister of Mercy; or, we may rather say, the world's heavy hand had so ordained her, when neither the world nor she looked forward to this result. The letter was the symbol of her calling. Such helpfulness was found in her- so much power to do, and power to sympathise- that many people refused to interpret the scarlet A by its original signification. They said that it meant Able; so strong was Hester Prynne, with a woman's strength.

It was only the darkened house that could contain her. When sunshine came again, she was not there. Her shadow had faded across the threshold. The helpful inmate had departed, without one backward glance to gather up the meed of gratitude, if any were in the hearts of those whom she had served so zealously. Meeting them in the street, she never raised her head to receive their greeting. If they were resolute to accost her, she laid her finger on the scarlet letter and passed on. This might be pride, but was so like humility, that it produced all the softening influence of the latter quality on the public mind. The public is despotic in its temper; it is capable of denying common justice, when too strenuously demanded as a right; but quite as frequently it awards more than justice when the appeal is made, as despots love to have it made, entirely to its generosity. Interpreting Hester Prynne's deportment as an appeal of this nature, society was inclined to show its former victim a more benign countenance than she cared to be favoured with, or, perchance, than she deserved.

The rulers, and the wise and learned men of the community, were longer in acknowledging the influence of Hester's good qualities than the people. The prejudices which they shared in common with the latter were fortified in themselves by an iron framework of reasoning, that made it a far tougher labour to expel them. Day by day, nevertheless, their sour and rigid wrinkles were relaxing into something which, in the due course of years, might grow to be an expression of almost benevolence. Thus it was with the men of rank, on whom their eminent position imposed the guardianship of the public morals. Individuals in private life, meanwhile, had quite forgiven Hester Prynne for her frailty; nay, more, they had begun to look upon the scarlet letter as the token, not of that one sin, for which she had borne so long and dreary a penance, but of her many good deeds since. "Do you see that woman with the embroidered badge?" they would say to strangers. "It is our Hester- the town's own Hester- who is so kind to the poor, so helpful to the sick, so comfortable to the afflicted!" Then, it is true, the propensity of human nature to tell the very worst of itself, when embodied in the person of another, would constrain them to whisper the black scandal of bygone years. It was none the less a fact, however, that, in the eyes of the very men who spoke thus, the scarlet letter had the effect of the cross on a nun's bosom. It imparted to the wearer a kind of sacredness, which enabled her to walk securely amid all peril. Had she fallen among thieves, it would have kept her safe. It was reported, and believed by many, that an Indian had drawn his arrow against the badge, and that the missile struck it, but fell harmless to the ground.

The effect of the symbol- or, rather, of the position in respect to society that was indicated by it- on the mind of Hester Prynne herself, was powerful and peculiar. All the light and graceful foliage of her character had been withered up by this red-hot brand, and had long ago fallen away, leaving a bare and harsh outline, which might have been repulsive, had she possessed friends or companions to be repelled by it. Even the attractiveness of her person had undergone a similar change. It might be partly owing to the studied austerity of her dress, and partly to the lack of demonstration in her manners. It was a sad transformation, too, that her rich and luxuriant hair had either been cut off, or was so completely hidden by a cap, that not a shining lock of it ever once gushed into the sunshine. It was due in part to all these causes, but still more to something else, that there seemed to be no longer anything in Hester's face for Love to dwell upon; nothing in Hester's form, though majestic and statue-like, that Passion would ever dream of clasping in its embrace; nothing in Hester's bosom, to make it ever again the pillow of Affection. Some attribute had departed from her, the permanence of which had been essential to keep her a woman. Such is frequently the fate, and such the stern development, of the feminine character and person, when the woman has encountered, and lived through, an experience of peculiar severity. If she be all tenderness, she will die. If she survive, the tenderness will either be crushed out of her, or- and the outward semblance is the same- crushed so deeply into her heart that it can never show itself more. The latter is perhaps the truest theory. She who has once been woman, and ceased to be so, might at any moment become a woman again, if there were only the magic touch to effect the transfiguration. We shall see whether Hester Prynne were afterwards so touched, and so transfigured.

Much of the marble coldness of Hester's impression was to be attributed to the circumstance, that her life had turned, in a great measure, from passion and feeling, to thought. Standing alone in the world- alone, as to any dependence on society, and with little Pearl to be guided and protected- alone, and hopeless of retrieving her position, even had she not scorned to consider it desirable- she cast away the fragments of a broken chain. The world's law was no law for her mind. It was an age in which the human intellect, newly emancipated, had taken a more active and a wider range than for many centuries before. Men of the sword had overthrown nobles and kings. Men bolder than these had overthrown and rearranged- not actually, but within the sphere of theory, which was their most real abode- the whole system of ancient prejudice, wherewith was linked much of ancient principle. Hester Prynne imbibed this spirit. She assumed a freedom of speculation, then common enough on the other side of the Atlantic, but which our forefathers, had they known it, would have held to be a deadlier crime than that stigmatised by the scarlet letter. In her lonesome cottage by the seashore, thoughts visited her, such as dared to enter no other dwelling in New England; shadowy guests, that would have been as perilous as demons to their entertainer could they have been seen so much as knocking at her door.

It is remarkable, that persons who speculate the most boldly often conform with the most perfect quietude to the external regulations of society. The thought suffices them, without investing itself in the flesh and blood of action. So it seemed to be with Hester. Yet, had little Pearl never come to her from the spiritual world, it might have been far otherwise. Then, she might have come down to us in history, hand in hand with Ann Hutchinson, as the foundress of a religious sect. She might, in one of her phases, have been a prophetess. She might, and not improbably would, have suffered death from the stern tribunals of the period, for attempting to undermine the foundations of the Puritan establishment. But, in the education of her child, the mother's enthusiasm of thought had something to wreak itself upon. Providence, in the person of this little girl, had assigned to Hester's charge the germ and blossom of womanhood, to be cherished and developed amid a host of difficulties. Everything was against her. The world was hostile. The child's own nature had something wrong in it, which continually betokened that she had been born amiss- the effluence of her mother's lawless passion- and often impelled Hester to ask, in bitterness of heart, whether it were for ill or good that the poor little creature had been born at all.

Indeed, the same dark question often rose into her mind, with reference to the whole race of womanhood. Was existence worth accepting, even to the happiest among them? As concerned her own individual existence, she had long ago decided in the negative, and dismissed the point as settled. A tendency to speculation, though it may keep woman quiet, as it does man, yet makes her sad. She discerns, it may be, such a hopeless task before her. As a first step, the whole system of society is to be torn down, and built up anew. Then, the very nature of the opposite sex, or its long hereditary habit, which has become like nature, is to be essentially modified, before woman can be allowed to assume what seems a fair and suitable position. Finally, all other difficulties being obviated, woman cannot take advantage of these preliminary reforms, until she herself shall have undergone a still mightier change; in which, perhaps, the ethereal essence, wherein she has her truest life, will be found to have evaporated. A woman never overcomes these problems by any exercise of thought. They are not to be solved, or only in one way. If her heart chance to come uppermost, they vanish. Thus, Hester Prynne, whose heart had lost its regular and healthy throb, wandered without a clew in the dark labyrinth of mind; now turned aside by an insurmountable precipice; now starting back from a deep chasm. There was wild and ghastly scenery all around her, and a home and comfort nowhere. At times, a fearful doubt strove to possess her soul, whether it were not better to send Pearl at once to heaven, and go herself to such futurity as Eternal Justice should provide.

The scarlet letter had not done its office.

Now, however, her interview with the Reverend Mr. Dimmesdale, on the night of his vigil, had given her a new theme of reflection, and held up to her an object that appeared worthy of any exertion and sacrifice for its attainment. She had witnessed the intense misery beneath which the minister struggled, or, to speak more accurately, had ceased to struggle. She saw that he stood on the verge of lunacy, if he had not already stepped across it. It was impossible to doubt, that, whatever painful efficacy there might be in the secret sting of remorse, a deadlier venom had been infused into it by the hand that proffered relief. A secret enemy had been continually by his side, under the semblance of a friend and helper, and had availed himself of the opportunities thus afforded for tampering with the delicate springs of Mr. Dimmesdale's nature. Hester could not but ask herself, whether there had not originally been a defect of truth, courage, and loyalty, on her own part, in allowing the minister to be thrown into a position where so much evil was to be foreboded, and nothing auspicious to be hoped. Her only justification lay in the fact, that she had been able to discern no method of rescuing him from a blacker ruin than had overwhelmed herself, except by acquiescing in Roger Chillingworth's scheme of disguise. Under that impulse, she had made her choice, and had chosen, as it now appeared, the more wretched alternative of the two. She determined to redeem her error, so far as it might yet be possible. Strengthened by years of hard and solemn trial, she felt herself no longer so inadequate to cope with Roger Chillingworth as on that night, abased by sin, and half maddened by the ignominy that was still new, when they had talked together in the prison-chamber. She had climbed her way, since then, to a higher point. The old man, on the other hand, had brought himself nearer to her level, or perhaps below it, by the revenge which he had stooped for.

In fine, Hester Prynne resolved to meet her former husband, and do what might be in her power for the rescue of the victim on whom he had so evidently set his gripe. The occasion was not long to seek. One afternoon, walking with Pearl in a retired part of the peninsula, she beheld the old physician, with a basket on one arm, and a staff in the other hand, stooping along the ground, in quest of roots and herbs to concoct his medicines withal.

在海丝特·白兰最近园丁梅斯代尔先生的那次独特的会面中，她发现牧师的健康状况大为下降，并为此深感震惊。他的神经系统似乎已彻底垮了。他的精神力量已经衰颓，低得不如孩子。虽说他的智能还保持着原有的力量，或者说，可能已经达到了只有疾病才会造成的一种病态的亢奋，但他的精神力量已经到了无能为力的地步了。由于她了解一系列不为他人所知的隐情，她立即推断出，在丁梅斯代尔先生自己良知的正常活动之外，他的宁静已经受到一部可怕的机器的干扰，而且那机器仍在开动，他还得忍受。由于她了解这个可怜的堕落的人的以往，所以当他吓得心惊胆战地向她——被人摒弃的女人——求救，要她帮他对付他靠本能发现的敌人的时候；她的整个灵魂都受到了震动。她还认为，他有权要她倾力相助。海丝特在长期的与世隔绝之中，已经不惯于以任何外界标准来衡量她的念头的对或错了，她懂得——或者似乎懂得——她对牧师负有责任，这种责任是她对任何别人、对整个世界都毋庸承担的。她和别的人类的任何联系——无论是花的、是丝的、是银的，还是随便什么物质的——全都断绝了。然而他和她之间却有着共同犯罪的铁链，不管他还是她都不能打破。这一联系，如同一切其它纽带一样，有与之紧相伴随的义务。

海丝特·白兰如今所处的地位已同她当初受辱时我们所看到的并不完全一样了。春来秋往，年复一年。珠儿此时已经七岁了。她母亲胸前闪着的刺绣绝妙的红字，早已成为镇上人所熟悉的目标。如果一个人在大家面前有着与众不同的特殊地位，而同时又不干涉任何公共或个人的利益和方便，他就最终会赢得普遍的尊重，海丝特·白兰的情况也正是如此除去自私的念头占了上峰、得以表现之外，爱总要比恨来得容易，这正是人类本性之所在。只要不遭到原有的敌意不断受到新的挑动的阻碍，恨甚至会通过悄悄渐进的过程转变成爱。就海丝特。白兰的情况而论，她既没受到旧恨的挑动，也没有增添新的愠怒。她从来与世无争，只是毫无怨尤地屈从于社会的最不公平的待遇；她也没有因自己的不幸而希冀什么报偿；她同样不依重于人们的同情。于是，在她因犯罪而丧失了权利、被迫独处一隅的这些年月里，她生活的纯洁无理，大大地赢得了人心。既然她在人们的心目中已经再无所失，再无所望，而且似乎也再无所愿去得到什么，那么这个可怜人的迷途知返，也只能被真诚地看作是美德感召的善果了。

人们也注意到：海丝特除去呼吸共同的空气，并用双手一丝不苟的劳作为她自已和小珠儿挣得每日的面包之外，对分享世上的特权连最卑微的要求都从不提出；反之，一有施惠于人的机会，她立即承认她与人类的姊妹之情。对于穷苦人的每一种需要，她比谁都快地就提供了她菲薄的支援；尽管那些心肠狠毒的穷人对她定期送到门口的食物或她用本可刺绣王袍的手指做成的衣物，竟会反唇相讥。在镇上蔓延瘟疫的时候，谁也没有海丝特那样忘我地献身。每逢灾难，无论是普遍的还是个人的，这个为社会所摒弃的人，都会马上挺身而出。她来到愁云紧锁的家庭，并非作为客人，而是作为理应到来的亲人；似乎那室内晦暗的微光成了她有权与她的同类进行交往的中介。她胸前绣着的字母闪着的非凡的光辉，将温暖舒适带给他人。那字母本来是罪恶的标记，此时在病室中却成了一支烛光。在受难者痛苦的弥留之际，那字母甚至会将其光辉跨越时间的界限：在砚世的光亮迅速暗淡下去、而来世的光亮还没照到死者之前，为他照亮踏脚的地方。在这种紧急情况下，海丝特显示了她那可贵的温厚秉性：那是人类温情的可靠源泉，对任何真正的需要都有求必应，哪怕需要再大，也绝不会枯竭。她的胸口虽然佩着耻辱牌，对有所需要的人却是柔软的枕头。她是自我委任的“慈善的姊妹”；或者，我们完全可以说，人世的沉重的手掌曾经这样委任了她。但当时无论人世或她本人都没有期待着她会不负所望。那字母成了她响应感召的象征。由于从她身上可以得到那么多的支援——她深富同情心又极肯助人——许多人都不肯再按本意来解释那红色的字母“A”了。他们说，那字母的意思是“能干”①；海丝特·白兰只是个弱女子，但她太有力量了。

只有阴暗的住房才能容纳她。当太阳再次升起的时候，她已经不在了。她的身影跨过门槛消逝了；这个大有助益的亲人离去了，根本没有回过头来看一眼应得的感谢——如果她刚刚如此热心地尽过力的那些人的心中肯于感激她的话。有时在街上遇到他们，她从来不抬头接受他们的致意。如果他们执意要和她搭汕，她就用一个手指按任那红宇，侧身而过。这或许是骄傲，但极似谦卑，反正在众人的心目中产生了谦卑品格的全部软化人心的影响。公众的情绪是蛮不讲理的：当常理上的公道作为一种权利加以过分要求时，可能遭到拒绝；但是一旦完全投其所好、吁请暴虐的人们慷慨大度时，倒常常会得到超出公道的奖赏。由于社会把海丝特·白兰的举止解释成这类性质的吁请，因此反倒宁可对其原先的牺牲品，显示出一种比她所乐于接受的、或者说比她实际应得的更加宽厚的态度。

居民区的统治者和有识之士比起一般百姓花费了更长的时间才认识到海丝特的优秀品质的影响。他们对海丝特所共同持有的偏见，被推论的铁框所禁锢，要想摆脱就得付出远为坚韧的努力。然而，日复一日，他们脸上那种敌视的僵死的皱纹逐渐松弛下来，伴随岁月的流逝，可以说变成了一种近乎慈爱的表情。那些身居要位、从而对公共道德负有监护之责的人的情况就是如此。与此同时，不担任公务的普通百姓已经差不多彻底原谅了海丝特·白兰因脆弱而造成的过失；不仅如此，他们还开始不再把那红字看作是罪过的标记——她为此已忍受了多么长时间的阴惨惨的惩罚啊——而是当成自那时起的许多善行的象征。“你看见那个佩戴刺绣的徽记的好人了吗？”他们会对陌生人这样说。“她是我们的海丝特——我们这镇上自己的海丝特，她对穷人多么好心肠，对病人多么肯帮忙，对遭难的人多么有安慰啊！”之后，出于人类本性中对别人说三道四的癖病，他们也确实悄声说起若干年前那桩见不得人的丑事。不过，即使在讲话人的心目中，那红字仍有修女胸前的红十字的效果。那红字赋予其佩戴者一种神圣性，使她得以安度一切危难。假若她落入盗贼之手，那红字也会保她平安无事。据传，而且有不少人情以为真，有一个印第安人曾瞄准那红字射箭，那飞箭虽然射中目标，却落到了地上，对她毫无伤害。

那象征物，或者更确切地说，它所代表的社会地位，在海丝特·白兰本人的头脑中，有着强烈而独特的作用。她性格中一切轻松优雅的绿叶，全都因那火红的徽记而枯萎，并且早已落得精光，只剩下了光秃秃的粗糙的轮廓，如果说她还有朋友和伙伴的话，恐怕也早就为此而规避了。就连她人品上的魅力也经历了类似的变化。这可能部分由于她着装上故作严肃简朴，部分因为她举止上有意不动声色。还有一个令人伤感的变化：她那满头丰盈的秀发，不是剪得短短的，就是让一顶帽子完全遮住，以致从来没有一绺在阳光下闪烁。除去这一切原因之外，再加上其它一些因素，看来，在海丝特的面孔上已不再有任何“爱情”可仔细揣摩之处，在海丝特那端庄和雕像般的身材上，不再有任何使“情欲”梦想投入其紧紧拥抱之处，在海丝特的胸膛中也不再有任何能够使“慈爱”落枕之处了。作为一个女性本来不可或缺的某些秉性，在她身上已不复存在。当女人遭遇井经受了一场非同一般的苛刻的惩罚时，她那女性的品格通常会遭受这种命运并经历这种严峻的变化。如果她只有柔情，她就会死掉。如果她侥幸活下去，她的柔情要么从她身上给排挤出去，要么在她心中给深深碾碎，永远不再表露出来。这两种情况在外人看来没什么不同，而后者或许更符合实际。她既然曾经是女人，虽然一时不再是女人，但只消有魔法点化一下，完全可以随时重新变成女人的。我们将要看到海丝特·白兰以后会不会受到这种点化，再变成女人。

海丝特给人的那种如大理石般冰冷的印象，大部要归咎于这一事实：她的生活，在很大程度上已经从情和欲变成了思想。她形只影单地立足于世上——孤独得对社会无所依靠，只有小珠儿需要她指点和保护，——孤独得对恢复她的地位已不抱希望，即使她还没有鄙夷这种愿望，但是她已把断裂的锁链的碎片全然抛弃了。人世间的法律并非她心目中的法律。当年正处于人类智慧初获解放的时代，比起以前的许多世纪，有着广阔得多的天地任其驰骋。手执利剑的人已经推翻了王室贵胄。比他们更勇敢的人，则将与古代准则密切相关的古代偏见的完整体系，并非实际地，而是在理论范围之内——这是那些王室贵胃真正的藏身之地——予以颠覆并重新安排了。海丝特·白兰汲取了这一精神。她采取了思想自由的观点，这在当年的大西洋彼岸本是再普通不过的事，但设若我们的移民祖先们对这种自由思想有所了解的话，她的观点会被认为比红字烙印所代表的罪恶还要致命的。在她那独处海边的茅舍里，拜访她的那些思想是不敢进入新英格兰的其它住宅的；假如有人看见这些影子般的客人轻叩她的门扉的话，就会把接待他们的主人视同魔鬼般危险了。

值得重视的是，那些具有最大胆的思想观点的人，对于外界的清规戒律也最能泰然处之。他们满足于思想观点，并不想赋予其行动的血肉。海丝特的情况似乎就是这样。不过，假若小珠儿未曾从精神世界来到她身边的话，她的情况也许就会大不一样了。那样的话，她也许会同安妮·哈钦逊携手并肩，作为一个教派的创始人，名标青史。她也许会在自己的某一时期成为一名女先知。她也许会——并非不可能——因企图颠覆清教制度的基础，而被当时严厉的法官处以死刑。但她的思想热情，因为她成了母亲，得以在教育孩子之中宣泄出去。上天把这小女孩交付给海丝特，就是要她保护女性的幼芽和蓓蕾，在众多的困难中加以抚育和培养。一切都与她作对。世界在以她为敌。孩子的本性中含有欠妥之处，不断表明她降临到这个世界上是个错误——是她母亲无视法律的激情的发泄，而且时常迫使海丝特辛酸地扪心自问：这个可怜的小家伙降生到世上，究竟是祸还是福。

事实上，她心中也时常升腾起涉及全人类女性的同样阴郁的问题：即使对女性中最幸福的人来说，那人的生存有价值吗？至于她自己本人的生存，她早已予以否定，并且作为已决之点不再重提。勤于思考，虽说可以对女人起到和对男人相同的作用——使人安静下来，但却使她感到伤感。也许她已经看清了自己面临的任务是无望的。首先，整个社会制度要彻底推翻并予以重建。其次，男人的本性，或者说由于世代沿袭的习惯面变得象是本性的东西，应该从本质上加以改变，然后妇女才可能取得似是公平合理的地位。最后，即使排除掉一切其它困难，妇女也必须先进行一番自身的更有力的变化，才能享有这些初步改革的成果，然而到那时，，凝聚着她的女性的最真实的生命的精髓，或许巳然蒸发殆尽了。一个女人，无论如何运用她的思维，也无法解决这些问题。或许只有一条出路才能解决这些问题：如果她的精神能够主宰一切，这些问题便会不复存在。然面，由于海丝特·白兰的心脏已经不再有规律而健康的搏动，她便只有茫无头绪地徘徊在思考的幽暗迷宫之中：时而因无法攀越的峭壁而转弯，时而因深陷的断层而返回。她周围是一道恐怖的野景，四处不见舒适的家园。不时有一种可怕的疑虑攫佐她的灵魂，不知是否该把珠儿马上送上天庭，自己也走向“永恒的裁判”所断定的来世，才更好些。

那个红字尚未克尽厥责。

但是此时，自从那天夜里丁梅斯代尔先生夜游时他俩见了一面以来，她又有了一个新的题目去思索；在她看来，为了达到那一目标，她简直值得耗尽一切精力并作出一切牺牲。她已经目睹了牧师是在多么剧烈的痛苦之中挣扎着——或者说得更准确些，是怎样停止挣扎的。她亲眼看到，他已经站到发疯的边缘——如果说他还没有跨过那边缘处于疯狂状态的话。无庸置疑，不管自责的秘刺中有什么致痛的功效，那只提供救援之手又在那螫刺中注入了致他死命的毒液。一个秘密的敌人，假借朋友和救护者之名，时刻不离他的方前左右，并借此机会撬动丁梅斯代尔先生秉性中纤弱的锁簧。海丝特不禁自问：是否由于她这方面在真诚、勇气及忠贞上本来存在着缺陷，才造成牧师被抛进凶隙横生、毫无祥兆的境地呢？她唯一能够自我辩解的就是：除去默许罗杰·齐灵渥斯隐姓埋名之外，她原本别无它法使牧师免遭比她承受的还要阴暗的毁灭。在那种动机之下，她作出了自己的抉择，而如今看来，她所选定购却是二者之间更加不幸的方案。她决心在尽可能的情况下来补偿自己的过失。经过多年艰苦和严正的考验，她已经坚强有力多了，自信不象当年那个夜晚那样不是罗杰·齐灵渥斯的对手了：当晚他俩在牢房中谈话时，她是刚刚肩负犯罪的重压，并为羞耻之心逼得半疯的。从那晚起，她已在自己的道路上攀登到一个新高度了。面另一方面；那个老人呢，由于不顾一切地寻求复仇，则使自己降低到同她接近或许比她还低的水平了。

终于，海丝特·白兰打定主意去会她原先的丈夫，尽她的全力来解救显然已落入对方掌握之中的牺牲品。没过多久；她便找到了机会；一天下午，在半岛上一处荒无人烟的地点，她带着珠儿散步，刚好看见那老医生，一手挽着篮子，另一只手往着拐杖，正弯着腰在地上一路搜寻可以配药的树根和药草。

①“A”本是“通奸”(Adultery)的首字，现在被人们释作“能干”(Able)的首字。