書蟲4級(jí)《紅字》9．逃亡

9.Escape

On the morning of Election Day, when the townspeople came together to meet their newly elected Governor, Hester Prynne came into the market-place in her usual dress of grey cloth, with the scarlet letter on her bosom. The quiet, sad look on her face hid the excitement deep inside her. Who in the crowd could guess her thoughts that day?

Look for the last time at the scarlet letter and its wearer! In a little while I will be beyond your reach! I will be free, and the scarlet letter of shame, which has burned on my bosom for seven long years, will lie for ever at the bottom of the sea!

Little Pearl, sensitive to her mother's excitement without knowing the reason for it, was dancing along at Hester's side, singing or giving happy little shouts.

Why are the people not working today, Mother?' she asked, when she saw the crowd in the market-place. 'And look how many strangers there are here today—Indians and sailors among them. What is everyone waiting for?'

They are waiting to see the new Governor go past,' answered Hester. 'And the magistrates and the priests, and all the great and good people, with the soldiers marching in front of them to the music.'

Will Mr Dimmesdale be there?' asked Pearl. 'Will he hold out both his hands to me, as he did that day in the forest?'

He will be there, child,' said Hester. 'But he will not speak to you today, and you must not speak to him.'

What a strange, sad man he is,' said the child. 'He held your hand and mine at night on the scaffold, and again in the forest. But here on this sunny day, among all the people, he does not know us, and we must not speak to him. What a strange, sad man, with his hand always over his heart.'

Be quiet, Pearl!' said Hester. 'You don't understand these things. Don't think about the priest. Look around, and see how happy everyone is today, on this holiday.'

And it was true. Most people were smiling, and there was a lot of talk and laughter. The sailors from the Spanish ship, with their sunburnt faces and long beards, were noisier than most. They shouted and laughed, and drank wine from bottles. Sailors in those days obeyed only the laws of the sea, and were allowed to do much as they liked on land. Even the Puritans smiled at their noisy ways.

So it was no surprise to anyone to see a respectable man like old Roger Chillingworth come into the market-place, speaking with the captain of the ship.

Moments later, when the two men went their separate ways, the captain walked across to Hester Prynne. As usual, people avoided standing near her, which meant that she and the captain could talk privately.

So, mistress,' said the captain, 'another one to join you! And with two doctors—our own ship's doctor and this other doctor—we need not fear ship-fever on this voyage!'

What do you mean?' said Hester, alarmed. 'You have another passenger?'

Didn't you know that this doctor—Chillingworth, he calls himself—has decided to travel with you?' said the captain. 'Oh, but you must know! He told me he's a good friend of the gentleman you spoke about.'

They—they know each other well,' agreed Hester, trying desperately to look calm. 'They live in the same house.'

No more words were spoken between them, but at that moment she saw old Roger Chillingworth, standing in a far corner of the market-place. He was smiling at her—a smile which, even across the wide and busy square, carried secret and fearful meaning.

Before she could think clearly again, there was the sound of music, and a moment later she saw the band coming, followed by soldiers. Little Pearl laughed and jumped up and down excitedly. Next came the magistrates, and then the priests. Mr Dimmesdale was among them, but although his feet marched with the music, it is doubtful whether he actually heard it, as he seemed to be deep in thought.

Hester watched him, and her heart was heavy. Was this the same man who had sat with her in the forest, holding her hand? He looked so different now, walking proudly, with his head held high, and without a single look at her.

It was a dream,' she thought. 'There can be no real love between us. How can there be? A man in his position.'

Pearl noticed the sadness which had suddenly come over her mother, and became worried and uncomfortable. When the priests had gone by, she looked into her mother's face and said, 'Is that the same priest who kissed me in the forest?'

Be quiet, little Pearl!' whispered her mother. 'We must not talk in the market-place about the things that happen to us in the forest!'

Then she heard her name spoken, and turned to see Mistress Hibbins behind her.

Now, who would believe it?' the old lady whispered to Hester. 'Look at our priest, Mr Dimmesdale! He looks so godly today! And only a little while since he went from his study to walk in the forest! Ah! And we know what that means, Hester Prynne! Can you be sure, Hester, that he is the same man that you met among the trees?'

Mistress Hibbins, I don't know what you are talking about,' said Hester. Was the old woman as mad as she seemed? Did she really dance in the forest with the Evil One, the Devil himself?

Come, come, Hester! The Dark One knows those who have signed their names in his book!' And laughing crazily, Mistress Hibbins walked on.

By this time, the first prayers had been said in the church meeting-house, and Hester could hear Mr Dimmesdale beginning his sermon. She stood close to the scaffold platform where she could hear most of his words.

His voice was strong and clear and sweet. Sometimes he spoke quietly, and at other times with great passion. But Hester, who knew the guilt and misery in his heart, could hear in his voice a cry of pain. A cry from the very soul of the man! She listened, unable to move from the scaffold, that place of public shame which she knew so well.

Little Pearl, meanwhile, had moved away and was playing and dancing about in the market-place. Whenever she saw something which interested her, she ran across to it. She ran to stare at a group of Indians, then ran into the centre of a group of sailors, who laughed and tried to join in her game, but she would not let them.

The captain tried to kiss her, but she danced away. Then he called to her.

Your mother is the woman with the scarlet letter, isn't she?' he said. 'Will you give her a message? Tell her that I spoke with the old doctor, and he will bring the other gentleman to the ship with him. She need only take herself and you. Will you tell her that?'

Pearl ran through the crowd to her mother, and repeated the captain's words. Hester listened with a growing misery. The plan for herself and the priest now seemed hopeless.

And even as she suffered this great disappointment, a crowd was coming together around Hester, mostly people from the countryside who had heard about but not seen 'the woman with the scarlet letter' and wanted to stare at her. The Indians, too, came to look.

And while Hester stood in the centre of that circle of shame, Mr Arthur Dimmesdale stood in the church and received the love and respect of all who listened to him.

When he finished his sermon, there was silence inside the meeting-house. A minute later, the crowd began to leave the church, all talking at once. How beautifully their good Mr Dimmesdale had spoken, they said! What a wise and godly man he was!

There was a sadness too, not in the words themselves but in the way he spoke them. A sadness of someone who is about to die. Yes, their priest, whom they loved, and who loved them, had the sound of a man who would not be in this world for much longer.

And Mr Dimmesdale? It was his proudest moment.

Now the band began to play again, and the soldiers got ready to lead everyone to the town hall. The people stepped back to make room for the Governor, the magistrates, the officers of the town, and the priests. They shouted and waved, but the noise began to die away as the crowd saw their young priest, Mr Dimmesdale.

How weak and pale he looked, suddenly! Where was the proud man who had marched to the church earlier; the man who had spoken with such passion in the meeting-house? His face was the face of a man already half-dead.

One of the other priests, old Mr Wilson, stepped forward to offer his help, but Mr Dimmesdale waved him away. They were near the scaffold now, and there stood Hester Prynne, holding little Pearl's hand. And there was the scarlet letter on her bosom. Arthur Dimmesdale stopped, unable to go on. And then he turned to the scaffold and held out his arms.

Hester,' he said, 'come here! Come, my little Pearl!'

His face had the look of a man, both sad and joyful, who has finally won a battle inside himself.

The child ran to him and threw her arms around his knees. Hester Prynne, moving slowly like a woman in a dream, also came near, but paused before she reached him. At that moment, Roger Chillingworth pushed through the crowd and caught hold of the priest's arm.

Stop!' he whispered to Mr Dimmesdale. 'What are you doing? Wave back that woman! Push away that child! All will be well. Do not do this! I can still save you!'

You are too late!' answered the priest. 'With God's help, I shall escape you now!' He put out his hand to Hester.

Hester Prynne! God has made me strong enough, at this last moment, to do the thing that I failed to do seven years ago. Come now, and be strong with me. Come and stand with me on the scaffold!'

There was great excitement in the crowd, but the priests and magistrates could not believe what they were seeing, and they remained silent. They saw the young priest with Hester's arm around him, and his hand holding little Pearl's hand. The three of them climbed the steps of the scaffold, and were followed by old Roger Chillingworth.

Is this the only place that you could find to escape from me?' whispered Chillingworth. 'The scaffold!'

It is God who led me here!' said Mr Dimmesdale, 'and I thank Him for it.' But he trembled as he turned to Hester. 'Is this not better than what we planned in the forest?'

I don't know!' she replied hurriedly. 'Better? We may both die, and little Pearl may die with us!'

God will decide, but He is merciful,' said the priest. 'Let me do now what God has told me to do. I am a dying man, Hester. Let me accept my shame before I die.'

He turned and looked down at the crowd.

People of New England!' he cried. 'You who have loved me! Look at me now, as I stand here with this woman. For seven long years you have called her a sinner and hated her. You have seen the scarlet letter on her bosom, and have crossed the street to avoid her. But there has been someone living among you whose sin and shame you have not known!' He stepped forward, away from Hester and the child. 'God knew him! The Devil knew him! And now, at the hour of his death, you shall know him! He stands in front of you! Look again at Hester's scarlet letter. With all its mysterious horror, it is only a shadow of what is on my own bosom! Look! Look! See for yourselves!'

And he pulled open his shirt for them to see his chest!

Cries of horror came from the crowd. For a moment, the priest stood proudly—a man who has won a battle over his own pain and fear. Then he fell to the ground.

Hester lifted him, and held his head against her bosom. Chillingworth knelt down beside him, an empty, dull look on his face.

You have escaped me!' Chillingworth repeated again and again. 'You have escaped me!'

May God forgive you,' the young priest said to him. 'You, too, have sinned deeply.' He turned his dying eyes towards Hester and the child. 'My little Pearl!' he said, his voice almost a whisper. 'Will you kiss me now?'

Pearl kissed him, and her tears fell on her father's face.

Hester!' said the priest. 'Goodbye!'

Won't we meet again?' she whispered, her face close to his. 'Won't we meet in heaven, and be together for ever?'

Hester, Hester, I don't know,' he said. 'But God is merciful! He has proved his mercy. He gave me this burning pain to suffer on my bosom! He sent me that dark and terrible old man, to keep the pain always red-hot! He has brought me here, to die a death of shame, in front of the people! Without all this, I would be lost for ever! For this I thank Him. I thank God! Goodbye...!'

The final word came with the priest's dying breath.