Hester Prynne went one day to the mansion of GovernorBellingham, with a pair of gloves which she had fringed andembroidered to his order, and which were to be worn on somegreat occasion of state; for, though the chances of a popularelection had caused this former ruler to descend a step or twofrom the highest rank, he still held an honourable andinfluential place among the colonial magistracy.

Another and far more important reason than the delivery of apair of embroidered gloves, impelled Hester, at this time, toseek an interview with a personage of so much power and activityin the affairs of the settlement. It had reached her ears thatthere was a design on the part of some of the leadinginhabitants, cherishing the more rigid order of principles inreligion and government, to deprive her of her child. On thesupposition that Pearl, as already hinted, was of demon origin,these good people not unreasonably argued that a Christianinterest in the mother's soul required them to remove such astumbling-block from her path. If the child, on the other hand,were really capable of moral and religious growth, and possessedthe elements of ultimate salvation, then, surely, it would enjoyall the fairer prospect of these advantages by being transferredto wiser and better guardianship than Hester Prynne's. Amongthose who promoted the design, Governor Bellingham was said tobe one of the most busy. It may appear singular, and, indeed,not a little ludicrous, that an affair of this kind, which inlater days would have been referred to no higher jurisdictionthan that of the select men of the town, should then have been aquestion publicly discussed, and on which statesmen of eminencetook sides. At that epoch of pristine simplicity, however,matters of even slighter public interest, and of far lessintrinsic weight than the welfare of Hester and her child, werestrangely mixed up with the deliberations of legislators andacts of state. The period was hardly, if at all, earlier thanthat of our story, when a dispute concerning the right ofproperty in a pig not only caused a fierce and bitter contest inthe legislative body of the colony, but resulted in an importantmodification of the framework itself of the legislature.

Full of concern, therefore--but so conscious of her own rightthat it seemed scarcely an unequal match between the public onthe one side, and a lonely woman, backed by the sympathies ofnature, on the other--Hester Prynne set forth from her solitarycottage. Little Pearl, of course, was her companion. She was nowof an age to run lightly along by her mother's side, and,constantly in motion from morn till sunset, could haveaccomplished a much longer journey than that before her. Often,nevertheless, more from caprice than necessity, she demanded tobe taken up in arms; but was soon as imperious to be let downagain, and frisked onward before Hester on the grassy pathway,with many a harmless trip and tumble. We have spoken of Pearl'srich and luxuriant beauty--a beauty that shone with deep andvivid tints, a bright complexion, eyes possessing intensity bothof depth and glow, and hair already of a deep, glossy brown, andwhich, in after years, would be nearly akin to black. There wasfire in her and throughout her: she seemed the unpremeditatedoffshoot of a passionate moment. Her mother, in contriving thechild's garb, had allowed the gorgeous tendencies of herimagination their full play, arraying her in a crimson velvettunic of a peculiar cut, abundantly embroidered in fantasies andflourishes of gold thread. So much strength of colouring, whichmust have given a wan and pallid aspect to cheeks of a fainterbloom, was admirably adapted to Pearl's beauty, and made her thevery brightest little jet of flame that ever danced upon theearth.

But it was a remarkable attribute of this garb, and indeed, ofthe child's whole appearance, that it irresistibly andinevitably reminded the beholder of the token which HesterPrynne was doomed to wear upon her bosom. It was the scarletletter in another form: the scarlet letter endowed with life!The mother herself--as if the red ignominy were so deeplyscorched into her brain that all her conceptions assumed itsform--had carefully wrought out the similitude, lavishing manyhours of morbid ingenuity to create an analogy between theobject of her affection and the emblem of her guilt and torture.But, in truth, Pearl was the one as well as the other; and onlyin consequence of that identity had Hester contrived soperfectly to represent the scarlet letter in her appearance.

As the two wayfarers came within the precincts of the town, thechildren of the Puritans looked up from their play,--or whatpassed for play with those sombre little urchins--and spokegravely one to another.

"Behold, verily, there is the woman of the scarlet letter: andof a truth, moreover, there is the likeness of the scarletletter running along by her side! Come, therefore, and let usfling mud at them!"

But Pearl, who was a dauntless child, after frowning, stampingher foot, and shaking her little hand with a variety ofthreatening gestures, suddenly made a rush at the knot of herenemies, and put them all to flight. She resembled, in herfierce pursuit of them, an infant pestilence--the scarlet fever,or some such half-fledged angel of judgment--whose mission wasto punish the sins of the rising generation. She screamed andshouted, too, with a terrific volume of sound, which, doubtless,caused the hearts of the fugitives to quake within them. Thevictory accomplished, Pearl returned quietly to her mother, andlooked up, smiling, into her face.

Without further adventure, they reached the dwelling of GovernorBellingham. This was a large wooden house, built in a fashion ofwhich there are specimens still extant in the streets of ourolder towns now moss-grown, crumbling to decay, and melancholyat heart with the many sorrowful or joyful occurrences,remembered or forgotten, that have happened and passed awaywithin their dusky chambers. Then, however, there was thefreshness of the passing year on its exterior, and thecheerfulness, gleaming forth from the sunny windows, of a humanhabitation, into which death had never entered. It had, indeed,a very cheery aspect, the walls being overspread with a kind ofstucco, in which fragments of broken glass were plentifullyintermixed; so that, when the sunshine fell aslant-wise over thefront of the edifice, it glittered and sparkled as if diamondshad been flung against it by the double handful. The brilliancymight have be fitted Aladdin's palace rather than the mansion ofa grave old Puritan ruler. It was further decorated with strangeand seemingly cabalistic figures and diagrams, suitable to thequaint taste of the age which had been drawn in the stucco, whennewly laid on, and had now grown hard and durable, for theadmiration of after times.

Pearl, looking at this bright wonder of a house began to caperand dance, and imperatively required that the whole breadth ofsunshine should be stripped off its front, and given her to playwith.

"No, my little Pearl!" said her mother; "thou must gather thineown sunshine. I have none to give thee!"

They approached the door, which was of an arched form, andflanked on each side by a narrow tower or projection of theedifice, in both of which were lattice-windows, the woodenshutters to close over them at need. Lifting the iron hammerthat hung at the portal, Hester Prynne gave a summons, which wasanswered by one of the Governor's bond servant--a free-bornEnglishman, but now a seven years' slave. During that term hewas to be the property of his master, and as much a commodity ofbargain and sale as an ox, or a joint-stool. The serf wore thecustomary garb of serving-men at that period, and long before,in the old hereditary halls of England.

"Is the worshipful Governor Bellingham within?" inquired Hester.

"Yea, forsooth," replied the bond-servant, staring withwide-open eyes at the scarlet letter, which, being a new-comerin the country, he had never before seen. "Yea, his honourableworship is within. But he hath a godly minister or two with him,and likewise a leech. Ye may not see his worship now."

"Nevertheless, I will enter," answered Hester Prynne; and thebond-servant, perhaps judging from the decision of her air, andthe glittering symbol in her bosom, that she was a great lady inthe land, offered no opposition.

So the mother and little Pearl were admitted into the hall ofentrance. With many variations, suggested by the nature of hisbuilding materials, diversity of climate, and a different modeof social life, Governor Bellingham had planned his newhabitation after the residences of gentlemen of fair estate inhis native land. Here, then, was a wide and reasonably loftyhall, extending through the whole depth of the house, andforming a medium of general communication, more or lessdirectly, with all the other apartments. At one extremity, thisspacious room was lighted by the windows of the two towers,which formed a small recess on either side of the portal. At theother end, though partly muffled by a curtain, it was morepowerfully illuminated by one of those embowed hall windowswhich we read of in old books, and which was provided with adeep and cushioned seat. Here, on the cushion, lay a folio tome,probably of the Chronicles of England, or other such substantialliterature; even as, in our own days, we scatter gilded volumeson the centre table, to be turned over by the casual guest. Thefurniture of the hall consisted of some ponderous chairs, thebacks of which were elaborately carved with wreaths of oakenflowers; and likewise a table in the same taste, the whole beingof the Elizabethan age, or perhaps earlier, and heirlooms,transferred hither from the Governor's paternal home. On thetable--in token that the sentiment of old English hospitalityhad not been left behind--stood a large pewter tankard, at thebottom of which, had Hester or Pearl peeped into it, they mighthave seen the frothy remnant of a recent draught of ale.

On the wall hung a row of portraits, representing theforefathers of the Bellingham lineage, some with armour on theirbreasts, and others with stately ruffs and robes of peace. Allwere characterised by the sternness and severity which oldportraits so invariably put on, as if they were the ghosts,rather than the pictures, of departed worthies, and were gazingwith harsh and intolerant criticism at the pursuits andenjoyments of living men.

At about the centre of the oaken panels that lined the hall wassuspended a suit of mail, not, like the pictures, an ancestralrelic, but of the most modern date; for it had been manufacturedby a skilful armourer in London, the same year in which GovernorBellingham came over to New England. There was a steelhead-piece, a cuirass, a gorget and greaves, with a pair ofgauntlets and a sword hanging beneath; all, and especially thehelmet and breastplate, so highly burnished as to glow withwhite radiance, and scatter an illumination everywhere aboutupon the floor. This bright panoply was not meant for mere idleshow, but had been worn by the Governor on many a solemn musterand training field, and had glittered, moreover, at the head ofa regiment in the Pequod war. For, though bred a lawyer, andaccustomed to speak of Bacon, Coke, Noye, and Finch, as hisprofessional associates, the exigencies of this new country hadtransformed Governor Bellingham into a soldier, as well as astatesman and ruler.

Little Pearl, who was as greatly pleased with the gleamingarmour as she had been with the glittering frontispiece of thehouse, spent some time looking into the polished mirror of thebreastplate.

"Mother," cried she, "I see you here. Look! Look!"

Hester looked by way of humouring the child; and she saw that,owing to the peculiar effect of this convex mirror, the scarletletter was represented in exaggerated and gigantic proportions,so as to be greatly the most prominent feature of herappearance. In truth, she seemed absolutely hidden behind it.Pearl pointed upwards also, at a similar picture in thehead-piece; smiling at her mother, with the elfish intelligencethat was so familiar an expression on her small physiognomy.That look of naughty merriment was likewise reflected in themirror, with so much breadth and intensity of effect, that itmade Hester Prynne feel as if it could not be the image of herown child, but of an imp who was seeking to mould itself intoPearl's shape.

"Come along, Pearl," said she, drawing her away, "Come and lookinto this fair garden. It may be we shall see flowers there;more beautiful ones than we find in the woods."

Pearl accordingly ran to the bow-window, at the further end ofthe hall, and looked along the vista of a garden walk, carpetedwith closely-shaven grass, and bordered with some rude andimmature attempt at shrubbery. But the proprietor appearedalready to have relinquished as hopeless, the effort toperpetuate on this side of the Atlantic, in a hard soil, andamid the close struggle for subsistence, the native Englishtaste for ornamental gardening. Cabbages grew in plain sight;and a pumpkin-vine, rooted at some distance, had run across theintervening space, and deposited one of its gigantic productsdirectly beneath the hall window, as if to warn the Governorthat this great lump of vegetable gold was as rich an ornamentas New England earth would offer him. There were a fewrose-bushes, however, and a number of apple-trees, probably thedescendants of those planted by the Reverend Mr. Blackstone, thefirst settler of the peninsula; that half mythological personagewho rides through our early annals, seated on the back of abull.

Pearl, seeing the rose-bushes, began to cry for a red rose, andwould not be pacified.

"Hush, child--hush!" said her mother, earnestly. "Do not cry,dear little Pearl! I hear voices in the garden. The Governor iscoming, and gentlemen along with him."

In fact, adown the vista of the garden avenue, a number ofpersons were seen approaching towards the house. Pearl, in utterscorn of her mother's attempt to quiet her, gave an eldritchscream, and then became silent, not from any notion ofobedience, but because the quick and mobile curiosity of herdisposition was excited by the appearance of those newpersonages.