红字-the scarlet letter(英文版)-第33部分
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him to be in the habit of taking； along the shores of thepeninsula； or on the wooded hills of the neighbouring country。 Therewould have been no scandal； indeed； nor peril to the holy whiteness ofthe clergyman's good fame； had she visited him in his own study； wheremany a penitent； ere now； had confessed sins of perhaps as deep adye as the one betokened by the scarlet letter。 But； partly that shedreaded the secret or undisguised interference of old RogerChillingworth； and partly that her conscious heart imputed suspicionwhere none could have been felt； and partly that both the minister andshe would need the whole wide world to breathe in； while they talkedtogether… for all these reasons； Hester never though of meeting him inany narrower privacy than beneath the open sky。 At last； while attending in a sick…chamber； whither the Reverend Mr。Dimmesdale had been summoned to make a prayer； she learnt that hehad gone； the day before； to visit the Apostle Eliot； among his Indianconverts。 He would probably return； by a certain hour； in theafternoon of the morrow。 Betimes； therefore； the next day； Hester tooklittle Pearl… who was necessarily the panion of all her mother'sexpeditions； however inconvenient her presence… and set forth。 The road； after the two wayfarers had crossed from the peninsulato the mainland； was no other than a footpath。 It straggled onwardinto the mystery of the primeval forest。 This hemmed it in sonarrowly； and stood so black and dense on either side； and disclosedsuch imperfect glimpses of the sky above； that； to Hester's mind； itimaged not amiss the moral wilderness in which she had so long beenwandering。 The day was chill and sombre。 Overhead was a grey expanseof cloud； slightly stirred； however； by a breeze； so that a gleam offlickering sunshine might now and then be seen at its solitary playalong the path。 This flitting cheerfulness was always at the fartherextremity of some long vista through the forest。 The sportivesunlight… feebly sportive； at best； in the predominant pensivenessof the day and scene… withdrew itself as they came nigh； and leftthe spots where it had danced the drearier； because they had hopedto find them bright。 〃Mother；〃 said little Pearl； 〃the sunshine does not love you。 Itruns away and hides itself； because it is afraid of something onyour bosom。 Now； see！ There it is； playing； a good way off。 Standyou here； and let me run and catch it。 I am but a child。 It will notflee from me； for I wear nothing on my bosom yet！〃 〃Nor ever will； my child； I hope；〃 said Hester。 〃And why not； mother？〃 asked Pearl； stopping short just at thebeginning of her race。 〃Will not it e of its own accord； when Iam a woman grown？〃 〃Run away； child；〃 answered her mother； 〃and catch the sunshine！It will soon be gone。〃 Pearl set forth； at a great pace； and； as Hester smiled to perceive；did actually catch the sunshine； and stood laughing in the midst ofit； all brightened by its splendour； and scintillating with thevivacity excited by rapid motion。 The light lingered about thelonely child； as if glad of such a playmate； until her mother haddrawn almost nigh enough to step into the magic circle too。 〃It will go now；〃 said Pearl； shaking her head。 〃See！〃 answered Hester； smiling。 〃Now I can stretch out my hand； andgrasp some of it。〃 As she attempted to do so； the sunshine vanished； or； to judgefrom the bright expression that was dancing on Pearl's features； hermother could have fancied that the child had absorbed it into herself；and would give it forth again； with a gleam about her path； as theyshould plunge into some gloomier shade。 There was no other attributethat so much impressed her with a sense of new and untransmittedvigour in Pearl's nature； as this never…failing vivacity of spirits；she had not the disease of sadness； which almost all children； inthese latter days； inherit； with the scrofula； from the troubles oftheir ancestors。 Perhaps this too was a disease； and but the reflex ofthe wild energy with which Hester had fought against her sorrows；before Pearl's birth。 It was certainly a doubtful charm； imparting ahard； metallic lustre to the child's character。 She wanted… whatsome people want throughout life… a grief that should deeply touchher； and thus humanise and make her capable of sympathy。 But there wastime enough yet for little Pearl。 〃e； my child！〃 said Hester； looking about her from the spot wherePearl had stood still in the sunshine。 〃We will sit down a littleway within the wood； and rest ourselves。〃 〃I am not aweary； mother；〃 replied the little girl。 〃But you may sitdown； if you will tell me a story meanwhile。〃 〃A story； child！〃 said Hester。 〃And about what？〃 〃Oh； a story about the Black Man；〃 answered Pearl； taking hold ofher mother's gown； and looking up； half earnestly； half mischievously；into her face。 〃How he haunts this forest； and carries a book withhim… a big； heavy book； with iron clasps； and how this ugly BlackMan offers his book and an iron pen to everybody that meets him hereamong the trees； and they are to write their names with their ownblood。 And then he sets his mark on their bosoms！ Didst thou ever meetthe Black Man； mother？〃 〃And who told you this story； Pearl？〃 asked her mother；recognising a mon superstition of the period。 〃It was the old dame in the chimney…corner； at the house where youwatched last night；〃 said the child。 〃But she fancied me asleepwhile she was talking of it。 She said that a thousand and a thousandpeople had met him here； and had written in his book； and have hismark on them。 And that ugly…tempered lady； old Mistress Hibbins； wasone。 And； mother； the old dame said that this scarlet letter was theBlack Man's mark on thee； and that it glows like a red flame when thoumeetest him at midnight； here in the dark wood。 Is it true； mother？And dost thou go to meet him in the night…time？〃 〃Didst thou ever awake； and find thy mother gone？〃 asked Hester。 〃Not that I remember；〃 said the child。 〃If thou fearest to leaveme in our cottage； thou mightest take me along with thee。 I would verygladly go！ But； mother； tell me now！ Is there such a Black Man？ Anddidst thou ever meet him？ And is this his mark？〃 〃Wilt thou let me be at peace if I once tell thee？〃 asked hermother。 〃Yes； if thou tellest me all；〃 answered Pearl。 〃Once in my life I met the Black Man！〃 said her mother。 〃Thisscarlet letter is his mark！〃 Thus conversing； they entered sufficiently deep into the wood tosecure themselves from the observation of any casual passenger alongthe forest track。 Here they sat down on a luxuriant heap of moss；which； at some epoch of the preceding century； had been a giganticpine； with its roots and trunk in the darksome shade； and its headaloft in the upper atmosphere。 It was a little dell where they hadseated themselves； with a leaf…strewn bank rising gently on eitherside； and a brook flowing through the midst； over a bed of fallenand drowned leaves。 The trees impending over it had flung down greatbranches； from time to time； which choked up the current； andpelled it to form eddies and black depths at some points； while； inits swifter and livelier passages； there appeared a channel…way ofpebbles； and brown； sparkling sand。 Letting the eyes follow alongthe course of the stream； they could catch the reflected light fromits water； at some short distance within the forest； but soon lost alltraces of it amid the bewilderment of tree…trunks and underbrush；and here and there a huge rock covered over with grey lichens。 Allthese giant trees and boulders of granite seemed intent on making amystery of the course of this small brook； fearing； perhaps； that；with its never…ceasing loquacity； it should whisper tales out of theheart of the old forest whence it flowed； or mirror its revelations onthe smooth surface of a pool。 Continually； indeed； as it stole onward；the streamlet kept up a babble； kind； quiet； soothing； but melancholy；like the voice of a young child that was spending its infancywithout playfulness； and knew not how to be merry among sadacquaintance and events of sombre hue。 〃O brook！ O foolish and tiresome little brook！〃 cried Pearl； afterlistening awhile to its talk。 〃Why art thou so sad？ Pluck up a spirit；and do not be all the time sighing and murmuring！〃 But the brook； in the course of its little lifetime among theforest…trees； had gone through so solemn an experience that it couldnot help talking about it； and seemed to have nothing else to say。Pearl resembled the brook inasmuch as the current of her life gushedfrom a well…spring as mysterious； and had flowed through scenesshadowed as heavily with gloom。 But； unlike the little stream； shedanced and sparkled； and prattled airily along her course。 〃What does this sad little brook say； mother？〃 inquired she。 〃If thou hadst a sorrow of thine own； the brook might tell thee ofit；〃 answered her mother； 〃even as it is telling me of mine！ Butnow； Pearl； I hear a footstep along the path； and the noise of oneputting aside the branches。 I would have thee betake thyself toplay； and leave me to speak with him that es yonder。〃 〃Is it the Black Man？〃 asked Pearl。 〃Wilt thou go and play； child？〃 repeated her mother。 〃But do notstray far into the wood。 And take heed that thou e at my firstcall。〃 〃Yes； mother；〃 answered Pearl。 〃But if it be the Black Man； wiltthou not let me stay a moment； and look at him； with his big bookunder his arm？〃 〃Go； silly child！〃 said her mother impatiently。 〃It is no Black Man！Thou canst see him now； through the trees。 It is the minister！〃 〃And so it is！〃 said the child。 〃And； mother； he has his hand overhis heart！ Is it because； when the minister wrote his name in thebook； the Black Man set his mark in that place？ But why does he notwear it outside his bosom； as thou dost； mother？〃 〃Go now； child； and thou shalt tease me as thou wilt anothertime；〃 cried Hester Prynne。 〃But do not stray far。 Keep where thoucanst hear the babble of the brook。〃 The child went singing away； following up the current of thebrook； and striving to mingle a more lightsome cadence with itsmelancholy voice。 But the little stream would not be forted； andstill kept telling its unintelligible secret of some very mournfulmystery that had happened… or making a prophetic lamentation aboutsomething that was yet to happen… within the verge of th
