2
Roger Chillingworth’s secret
B
ack inside the prison, Hester Prynne became strangely fearful and excited. The prison officer, Master Brackett, watched her carefully, afraid that she would do something violent, either to herself or to the child. By night-time, unable to quieten her, and worried about the child who screamed without stopping, Brackett decided to bring a doctor to her.
He described him to Hester as someone who had learned much about natural medicines from the Indians. But the man who followed Brackett into the prison was the man Hester had seen on the edge of the crowd earlier, the man she had watched in fear. His name, she was told, was Roger Chillingworth
Bracket brought the man in, and stood watching in surprise as Hester became as still as death. The child, however, continued to cry.
‘Please leave us alone,’ Chillingworth said to the prison officer,’ and you will soon have peace in your house.’
He had entered the room calmly, carrying a small bag, and he remained calm after Brackett had left them. First he went to the child and looked carefully at her. Then he opened his bag, took out some powder, and put it into a cup of water.
‘Here, woman!’ he said. ‘The child is yours, not mine. Give this to her.’
Hester did not move, and when she spoke, her voice was a whisper. ‘Don’t take your revenge on an innocent child.’
‘Silly woman!’ he replied, half coldly, half kindly. ‘If this poor, miserable baby was my own – mine, as well as yours! – I would give her the same medicine.’
He still hesitated, so he took the child and gave her the medicine himself. Almost at once she became quiet, and after a moment fell peacefully asleep.
Chillingworth prepared another drink of medicine and held out the cup to Hester. ‘Drink it!’ he said. ‘It cannot quieten your troubled soul, but it will calm you.’
She took it from him slowly, but her eyes were full of doubt about his reasons for helping her. Then she looked at her sleeping child.
‘I have thought of death,’ she said. ‘I have wished for it, and even prayed for it, but if death is in this cup, then I ask you to think again before I drink it.’
‘You need not be afraid,’ he replied calmly. ‘If I wanted revenge, then what more could I ask than to let you live – and suffer, under the shadow of this shame?’
As he spoke, he put his fingers on the scarlet letter, which suddenly seemed to burn red-hot on Hester’s bosom.
She drank the medicine quickly, then sat down on the bed where the child was sleeping. She watched, trembling as the man she had wronged pulled up a chair and sat beside her.
‘Hester,’ he said, ‘you’ve been weak, but I’ve been stupid. Look at me! I’m old and ugly. I was ugly from the moment that I was born. But you? You were young and beautiful, and full of life. How could I have imagined, the day that I married you, that you would ever love me? How could a man of books and learning be so stupid?’
‘I never felt or pretended any love for you,’ said Hester.
‘True,’ he replied. ‘But I hoped to make you love me.’
‘I have greatly wronged you.’ Hester whispered.
‘We have wronged each other,’ he said. ‘I’m not looking for revenge, Hester. I wish you no harm. But there is a man living who has wronged us both! Who is he?’
‘Do not ask me!’ she cried, looking straight at him. ‘You will never know his name!’
His smile was both dark and confident. ‘Believe me, Hester,’ he said, ‘I shall know him! Although he does not wear a letter of shame on his clothes, as you do, I shall read it on his heart. I shall see it in his eyes. I shall watch him tremble, and I will myself tremble with him. But don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt him, or harm his position in the town if he is an important man here. Nor shall I inform the law. No, let him live! Let him pretend to be an honest man! Heaven will punish him for me. But I will know him!’
‘You say you will not harm him,’ said Hester, confused and afraid, ‘but your words frighten me.’
‘One thing I ask you – you who were my wife,’ he said. ‘You have kept your lover’s secret, now keep mine! Tell nobody that you ever called me husband. No one in this land knows me. But here, on this wild edge of the earth, I shall stay, because you and yours, Hester Prynne, belong to me. Love or hate, right or wrong, my home is where you are and where he is. But keep my secret!’
‘Why do you want this?’ said Hester, suddenly afraid of this secret agreement, although she did not know why. Why not say openly who you are, and send me away at once?’
‘Perhaps because I do not want to hear what people say about a husband who loses his wife to another man,’ he said. ‘Let them think your husband is already dead. Pretend not to know me. Do not tell our secret to anyone, and most of all, not to your lover. Do not fail in this, Hester! Remember, his good name, his position, his life will be in my hands!’
‘I will keep your secret, as I have kept his,’ said Hester.
‘And now, Mistress Prynne,’ said the man called Roger Chillingworth, ‘I will leave you alone with your child and the scarlet letter.’ He smiled, slowly.
Hester stared at him, afraid of the expression in his eyes.
‘Why do you smile at me?’ she asked. ‘Have you tied me into an agreement that will destroy my soul?’
‘Not your soul,’ he answered, with another smile. ‘No, not yours!’
2
Roger Chillingworth’s secret
B
ack inside the prison, Hester Prynne became strangely fearful and excited. The prison officer, Master Brackett, watched her carefully, afraid that she would do something violent, either to herself or to the child. By night-time, unable to quieten her, and worried about the child who screamed without stopping, Brackett decided to bring a doctor to her.
He described him to Hester as someone who had learned much about natural medicines from the Indians. But the man who followed Brackett into the prison was the man Hester had seen on the edge of the crowd earlier, the man she had watched in fear. His name, she was told, was Roger Chillingworth
Bracket brought the man in, and stood watching in surprise as Hester became as still as death. The child, however, continued to cry.
‘Please leave us alone,’ Chillingworth said to the prison officer,’ and you will soon have peace in your house.’
He had entered the room calmly, carrying a small bag, and he remained calm after Brackett had left them. First he went to the child and looked carefully at her. Then he opened his bag, took out some powder, and put it into a cup of water.
‘Here, woman!’ he said. ‘The child is yours, not mine. Give this to her.’
Hester did not move, and when she spoke, her voice was a whisper. ‘Don’t take your revenge on an innocent child.’
‘Silly woman!’ he replied, half coldly, half kindly. ‘If this poor, miserable baby was my own – mine, as well as yours! – I would give her the same medicine.’
He still hesitated, so he took the child and gave her the medicine himself. Almost at once she became quiet, and after a moment fell peacefully asleep.
Chillingworth prepared another drink of medicine and held out the cup to Hester. ‘Drink it!’ he said. ‘It cannot quieten your troubled soul, but it will calm you.’
She took it from him slowly, but her eyes were full of doubt about his reasons for helping her. Then she looked at her sleeping child.
‘I have thought of death,’ she said. ‘I have wished for it, and even prayed for it, but if death is in this cup, then I ask you to think again before I drink it.’
‘You need not be afraid,’ he replied calmly. ‘If I wanted revenge, then what more could I ask than to let you live – and suffer, under the shadow of this shame?’
As he spoke, he put his fingers on the scarlet letter, which suddenly seemed to burn red-hot on Hester’s bosom.
She drank the medicine quickly, then sat down on the bed where the child was sleeping. She watched, trembling as the man she had wronged pulled up a chair and sat beside her.
‘Hester,’ he said, ‘you’ve been weak, but I’ve been stupid. Look at me! I’m old and ugly. I was ugly from the moment that I was born. But you? You were young and beautiful, and full of life. How could I have imagined, the day that I married you, that you would ever love me? How could a man of books and learning be so stupid?’
‘I never felt or pretended any love for you,’ said Hester.
‘True,’ he replied. ‘But I hoped to make you love me.’
‘I have greatly wronged you.’ Hester whispered.
‘We have wronged each other,’ he said. ‘I’m not looking for revenge, Hester. I wish you no harm. But there is a man living who has wronged us both! Who is he?’
‘Do not ask me!’ she cried, looking straight at him. ‘You will never know his name!’
His smile was both dark and confident. ‘Believe me, Hester,’ he said, ‘I shall know him! Although he does not wear a letter of shame on his clothes, as you do, I shall read it on his heart. I shall see it in his eyes. I shall watch him tremble, and I will myself tremble with him. But don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt him, or harm his position in the town if he is an important man here. Nor shall I inform the law. No, let him live! Let him pretend to be an honest man! Heaven will punish him for me. But I will know him!’
‘You say you will not harm him,’ said Hester, confused and afraid, ‘but your words frighten me.’
‘One thing I ask you – you who were my wife,’ he said. ‘You have kept your lover’s secret, now keep mine! Tell nobody that you ever called me husband. No one in this land knows me. But here, on this wild edge of the earth, I shall stay, because you and yours, Hester Prynne, belong to me. Love or hate, right or wrong, my home is where you are and where he is. But keep my secret!’
‘Why do you want this?’ said Hester, suddenly afraid of this secret agreement, although she did not know why. Why not say openly who you are, and send me away at once?’
‘Perhaps because I do not want to hear what people say about a husband who loses his wife to another man,’ he said. ‘Let them think your husband is already dead. Pretend not to know me. Do not tell our secret to anyone, and most of all, not to your lover. Do not fail in this, Hester! Remember, his good name, his position, his life will be in my hands!’
‘I will keep your secret, as I have kept his,’ said Hester.
‘And now, Mistress Prynne,’ said the man called Roger Chillingworth, ‘I will leave you alone with your child and the scarlet letter.’ He smiled, slowly.
Hester stared at him, afraid of the expression in his eyes.
‘Why do you smile at me?’ she asked. ‘Have you tied me into an agreement that will destroy my soul?’
‘Not your soul,’ he answered, with another smile. ‘No, not yours!’
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