The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. IX (of X) - America - I
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The Best of the World's Classics, Restricted to Prose, Vol. IX (of X) - America - I
Literature -- Collections
"My little Pearl," said he, feebly--and there was a sweet and gentle
smile over his face, as of a spirit sinking into deep repose; nay, now
that the burden was removed, it seemed almost as if he would be
sportive with the child--"dear little Pearl, wilt thou kiss me now?
Thou wouldst not yonder, in the forest! But now thou wilt?"
Pearl kissed his lips. A spell was broken. The great scene of grief,
in which the wild infant bore a part, had developed all her
sympathies; and as her tears fell upon her father's cheek, they were
the pledge that she would grow up amid human joy and sorrow, nor
forever do battle with the world, but be a woman in it. Toward her
mother, too, Pearl's errand as a messenger of anguish was all
fulfilled.
"Hester," said the clergyman, "farewell!"
"Shall we not meet again?" whispered she, bending her face down close
to his. "Shall we not spend our immortal life together? Surely,
surely, we have ransomed one another with all this wo! Thou lookest
far into eternity, with those bright dying eyes! Then tell me what
thou seest?"
"Hush, Hester, hush!" said he, with tremulous solemnity. "The law we
broke!--the sin here so awfully revealed!--let these be in thy
thoughts! I fear! I fear! It may be that, when we forgot our God--when
we violated our reverence each for the other's soul--it was
thenceforth vain to hope that we could meet hereafter, in an
everlasting and pure reunion. God knows; and He is merciful! He hath
proved His mercy, most of all, in my afflictions. By giving me this
burning torture to bear upon my breast! By sending yonder dark and
terrible old man, to keep the torture always at red heat! By bringing
me hither to die this death of triumphant ignominy before the people!
Had either of these agonies been wanting, I had been lost forever!
Praised be His name! His will be done! Farewell!"
That final word came forth with the minister's expiring breath. The
multitude, silent till then, broke out in a strange, deep voice of awe
and wonder, which could not as yet find utterance save in this murmur
that rolled so heavily after the departed spirit.
After many days, when time sufficed for the people to arrange their
thoughts in reference to the foregoing scene, there was more than one
account of what had been witnessed on the scaffold.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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