 its gripe, and never set him free
again, until he had done all its bidding. He now dug into the poor clergyman's
heart, like a miner searching for gold; or, rather, like a sexton delving into a
grave, possibly in quest of a jewel that had been buried on the dead man's
bosom, but likely to find nothing save mortality and corruption. Alas for his
own soul, if these were what he sought!
    Sometimes, a light glimmered out of the physician's eyes, burning blue and
ominous, like the reflection of a furnace, or, let us say, like one of those
gleams of ghastly fire that darted from Bunyan's awful door-way in the
hill-side, and quivered on the pilgrim's face. The soil where this dark miner
was working had perchance shown indications that encouraged him.
    »This man,« said he, at one such moment, to himself, »pure as they deem him,
- all spiritual as he seems, - hath inherited a strong animal nature from his
father or his mother. Let us dig a little farther in the direction of this
vein!«
    Then, after long search into the minister's dim interior, and turning over
many precious materials, in the shape of high aspirations for the welfare of his
race, warm love of souls, pure sentiments, natural piety, strengthened by
thought and study, and illuminated by revelation, - all of which invaluable gold
was perhaps no better than rubbish to the seeker, - he would turn back,
discouraged, and begin his quest towards another point. He groped along as
stealthily, with as cautious a tread, and as wary an outlook, as a thief
entering a chamber where a man lies only half asleep, - or, it may be, broad
awake, - with purpose to steal the very treasure which this man guards as the
apple of his eye. In spite of his premeditated carefulness, the floor would now
and then creak; his garments would rustle; the shadow of his presence, in a
forbidden proximity, would be thrown across his victim. In other words, Mr.
Dimmesdale, whose sensibility of nerve often produced the effect of spiritual
intuition, would become vaguely aware that something inimical to his peace had
thrust itself into relation with him. But old Roger Chillingworth, too, had
perceptions that were almost intuitive; and when the minister threw his startled
eyes towards him, there the physician sat; his kind, watchful, sympathizing, but
never intrusive friend.
    Yet Mr. Dimmesdale would perhaps have
