appearance and
conduct of himself and his son.
But he bore it unprotesting--or, rather, he scarcely noticed it; for all
his thoughts were now entirely taken up by one important subject--the
time and manner of his escape.
Thanks to Dick's thoughtless liberality, he had now ample funds to carry
him safely home. It was hardly likely that any more unexpected claims
could be brought against him now, particularly as he had no intention
of publishing his return to solvency. He might reasonably consider
himself in a position to make his escape at the very first favourable
opportunity.
When would that opportunity present itself? It must come soon. He could
not wait long for it. Any hour might yet see him pounced upon and
flogged heartily for some utterly unknown and unsuspected transgression;
or the golden key which would unlock his prison bars might be lost in
some unlucky moment; for his long series of reverses had made him loth
to trust to Fortune, even when she seemed to look smilingly once more
upon him.
Fortune's countenance is apt to be so alarmingly mobile with some
unfortunates.
But in spite of the new facilities given him for escape, and his strong
motives for taking advantage of them, he soon found to his utter dismay
that he shrank from committing himself to so daring and dangerous a
course, just as much as when he had tried to make a confidant of the
Doctor.
For, after all, could he be sure of himself? Would his ill-luck suffer
him to seize the one propitious moment, or would that fatal
self-distrust and doubt that had paralysed him for the past week seize
him again just at the crisis?
Suppose he did venture to take the first irrevocable step, could he rely
on himself to go through the rest of his hazardous enterprise? Was he
cool and wary enough? He dared not expect an uninterrupted run. Had he
ruses and expedients at command on any sudden check?
If he could not answer all these doubts favourably, was it not sheer
madness to take to flight at all?
He felt a dismal conviction that his success would have to depend, not
on his own cunning, but on the forbearance or blindness of others. The
slightest _contretemps_ must infallibly upset him altogether.
The fact was, he had all his life been engaged in the less eventful and
contentious branches of commerce. His will had seldom had to come in
contact with others, and when it did so, he had found means, being of a
prudent and cautious temperament,
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