That mode of escape was still free. Even at this moment, there
yet remained time sufficient for a successful flight, and, therefore, for
the following revolution in the romance of his own abominable life. He had
in his pockets above a hundred pounds of booty; means, therefore, for a
full disguise. This very night, if he will shave off his yellow hair, and
blacken his eyebrows, buying, when morning light returns, a dark-colored
wig, and clothes such as may co-operate in personating the character of a
grave professional man, he may elude all suspicions of impertinent
policemen; may sail by any one of a hundred vessels bound for any port
along the huge line of sea-board (stretching through twenty-four hundred
miles) of the American United States; may enjoy fifty years for leisurely
repentance; and may even die in the odor of sanctity. On the other hand,
if he prefer active life, it is not impossible that, with _his_ subtlety,
hardihood, and unscrupulousness, in a land where the simple process of
naturalization converts the alien at once into a child of the family, he
might rise to the president's chair; might have a statue at his death; and
afterwards a life in three volumes quarto, with no hint glancing towards
No. 29 Ratcliffe Highway. But all depends on the next ninety seconds.
Within that time there is a sharp turn to be taken; there is a wrong turn,
and a right turn.
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