Meanwhile the health of the young minister began to fail, and whenever he was troubled he pressed his hand over his heart. Roger Chillingworth, the new physician of the town, offered him his care, and the two men came to live in the same house. The old man had begun his investigation with the severe integrity of a judge, desirous only of truth. But a terrible fascination seized him and never set him free again. He dug into the poor clergyman's heart like a miner searching for gold, or rather like a sexton delving into a grave. One noonday the minister fell into a deep sleep in his chair. The physician came softly into the room, laid his hand upon his breast and thrust aside the vestment. Had a man seen old Roger Chillingworth at that moment, he would have had no need to ask how Satan comports himself when a precious human soul is lost to heaven.