Carried away by the grotesque horror of this picture, the minister, unawares, and to his own infinite alarm, burst into a great peal of laughter. It was immediately responded to by a light, airy, childish laugh, in which, with a thrill of the heart⁠—but he knew not whether of exquisite pain, or pleasure as acute⁠—he recognized the tones of little Pearl.

“Pearl! Little Pearl!” cried he after a moment’s pause; then, suppressing his voice⁠—“Hester! Hester Prynne! Are you there?”

“Yes; it is Hester Prynne!” she replied, in a tone of surprise; and the minister heard her footsteps approaching from the sidewalk, along which she had been passing. “It is I, and my little Pearl.”

“Whence come you, Hester?” asked the minister. “What sent you hither?”

“I have been watching at a deathbed,” answered Hester Prynne;⁠—“at Governor Winthrop’s deathbed, and have taken his measure for a robe, and am now going homeward to my dwelling.”