The Minister’s Vigil

           Walkingintheshadowofadream,asitwere,andperhapsactuallyundertheinfluenceofaspeciesofsomnambulism,Mr.Dimmesdalereachedthespotwhere,nowsolongsince,HesterPrynnehadlivedthroughherfirsthoursofpublicignominy.Thesameplatformorscaffold,blackandweather-stainedwiththestormorsunshineofsevenlongyears,andfoot-worn,too,withthetreadofmanyculpritswhohadsinceascendedit,remainedstandingbeneaththebalconyofthemeeting-house.Theministerwentupthesteps.

           ItwasanobscurenightinearlyMay.Anunweariedpallofcloudmuffledthewholeexpanseofskyfromzenithtohorizon.Ifthesamemultitudewhichhadstoodaseye-witnesseswhileHesterPrynnesustainedherpunishmentcouldnowhavebeensummonedforth,theywouldhavediscernednofaceabovetheplatformnorhardlytheoutlineofahumanshape,inthedarkgreyofthemidnight.Butthetownwasallasleep.Therewasnoperilofdiscovery.Theministermightstandthere,ifitsopleasedhim,untilmorningshouldreddenintheeast,withoutotherriskthanthatthedankandchillnightairwouldcreepintohisframe,andstiffenhisjointswithrheumatism,andcloghisthroatwithcatarrhandcough;therebydefraudingtheexpectantaudienceofto-morrow’sprayerandsermon.Noeyecouldseehim,savethatever-wakefulonewhichhadseenhiminhiscloset,wieldingthebloodyscourge.