Алая буква
A Forest Walk
Theroad,afterthetwowayfarershadcrossedfromthePeninsulatothemainland,wasnootherthanafoot-path.Itstraggledonwardintothemysteryoftheprimevalforest.Thishemmeditinsonarrowly,andstoodsoblackanddenseoneitherside,anddisclosedsuchimperfectglimpsesoftheskyabove,that,toHester’smind,itimagednotamissthemoralwildernessinwhichshehadsolongbeenwandering.Thedaywaschillandsombre.Overheadwasagrayexpanseofcloud,slightlystirred,however,byabreeze;sothatagleamofflickeringsunshinemightnowandthenbeseenatitssolitaryplayalongthepath.Thisflittingcheerfulnesswasalwaysatthefurtherextremityofsomelongvistathroughtheforest.Thesportivesunlight—feeblysportive,atbest,inthepredominantpensivenessofthedayandscene—withdrewitselfastheycamenigh,andleftthespotswhereithaddancedthedrearier,becausetheyhadhopedtofindthembright.
"Mother,"saidlittlePearl,"thesunshinedoesnotloveyou.Itrunsawayandhidesitself,becauseitisafraidofsomethingonyourbosom.Now,see!Thereitis,playingagoodwayoff.Standyouhere,andletmerunandcatchit.Iambutachild.Itwillnotfleefromme—forIwearnothingonmybosomyet!"
"Noreverwill,mychild,Ihope,"saidHester.
"Andwhynot,mother?"askedPearl,stoppingshort,justatthebeginningofherrace."WillnotitcomeofitsownaccordwhenIamawomangrown?"
"Runaway,child,"answeredhermother,"andcatchthesunshine.
