I confess that my conscience reproached me when I thought of the letter in my pocket, and of the deception towards my wife, of which I was guilty. Her father, mother and sisters would wonder, and be permitted to wonder, for weeks if not for months, that they did not hear from her. It was cruel for me to deceive Lilian, and to subject her family to all the anxiety to which I thus doomed them, but I believed that it was a stern necessity, and I silenced the upbraidings of the inward monitor. With thirty thousand dollars of stolen money in my pocket, it may be supposed that I did not trouble myself much upon such an insignificant matter as the peace of my wife’s friends.
We went on board of the steamer and I found our state-room. Being one of the last engaged, it was not the best on board, though it was a very comfortable one. Lilian was delighted with it, and declared that she should be as happy as a queen in it. I was afraid she was mistaken. She had never traveled any except on our bridal tour, and I expected she would be sea-sick all the way. But now she was excited by the prospect before her, and by the busy scene which surrounded us. The steamer was crowded with those who were going, and with their friends who had come to see them off. There was no one to say adieu to Lilian or to me.
If, of the multitude on the wharf, there was any one who felt an interest in me, it could only be a detective. I was a fugitive, and I felt like one. While Lilian was full of life and animated by the scene, I could not help feeling depressed. I was bidding farewell to my native land, perhaps forever. It might never be safe for me to return. I could not get rid of a certain sense of insecurity. It seemed to me, after I saw the men casting off the huge hawsers that held the ship to the pier, that those infernal detectives must come on board and hurry me back to a prison cell in the city from which I had fled.
Any flurry in the crowd, the arrival of a belated passenger, gave me a pang of anxiety which I cannot describe. It was only when the huge steamer was clear of the dock, and the great wheels began to turn, that I dared to breathe in a natural manner. Even then I was thrown into a fresh agony, when a steam-tug came out to us to put the mails on board. I was sure, until it was alongside, that it had been specially chartered by the detectives to arrest me. I was determined to jump overboard and perish in the waves, in sight of my wife, rather than be borne back to a long term of imprisonment in a dungeon. It was better to die than confront my friends in Boston.