"And now you understand my presence here, my anguish and my silence?"
"Oh! God forgive us!—God forgive us!" moaned the old man.
"You thought me dead, Samuel Parris: would that it had been so, but the unhappy cannot die when they wish."
"And thou art condemned to death! we, the wrongers and the sinful, have done this. But it is not too late, it shall not be too late."
The old man started toward the door, but Barbara laid her hand on his arm. "I have your promise, Samuel Parris."
The old man fell back against the wall as if he had been shot.
"Henceforth my fate rests in my own hands," said the lady, with gentle firmness. "If I revealed myself to you it was not to save this poor life, but because in no other way can justice be done to the living."
"But it must not be," cried the minister, wringing his hands. "Woman, woman, why did you not confide in me from the first?"
"And thus ruin him?"
"Oh, mercy! mercy! how hard it is to act rightly!" cried the old man.