The Blithedale Romance - Page 139/170

"Come," said he, waving his hand towards her. "You are safe!"

She threw off the veil, and stood before that multitude of people pale,

tremulous, shrinking, as if only then had she discovered that a

thousand eyes were gazing at her. Poor maiden! How strangely had she

been betrayed! Blazoned abroad as a wonder of the world, and

performing what were adjudged as miracles,--in the faith of many, a

seeress and a prophetess; in the harsher judgment of others, a

mountebank,--she had kept, as I religiously believe, her virgin reserve

and sanctity of soul throughout it all. Within that encircling veil,

though an evil hand had flung it over her, there was as deep a

seclusion as if this forsaken girl had, all the while, been sitting

under the shadow of Eliot's pulpit, in the Blithedale woods, at the

feet of him who now summoned her to the shelter of his arms. And the

true heart-throb of a woman's affection was too powerful for the

jugglery that had hitherto environed her. She uttered a shriek, and

fled to Hollingsworth, like one escaping from her deadliest enemy, and

was safe forever.