“There is no risk; for I shall kill the man. I shall live and he shall die.”
“Cannot you see? There is the White House! Adams went from the Vice-Presidency to the Presidency; Jefferson went from the Vice-Presidency to the Presidency; you will do the same. It’s as though the White House were already yours. And you would throw it away for a shot at this broken, beaten, disregarded man! For let me tell you, sir; kill Hamilton and you kill your chance of being President. No one may hope to go into the White House on the back of a duel.”
About Aaron’s mouth twinkles a pale smile. It lights up his face with a cold dimness, as a will-o’-the-wisp lights up the midnight blackness of a wood.
“You have a memory only for what I lose. You forget what I gain.”
“What you gain?”
“Ay, friend, what I gain. I shall gain vengeance; and I would sooner be revenged than be President.”
“Now this is midsummer madness!” wails Van Ness. “To throw away a career such as yours is simple frenzy!”
“I do not throw away a career; I begin one.”
Van Ness stares; Aaron goes slowly on, as though he desires every word to make an impression.
“Listen, my friend; I’ve been preparing. Last week I closed out all my houses and lands! to John Jacob Astor for one hundred and forty thousand dollars. The one lone thing I own is Richmond Hill—the roof we sit beneath. I’d have sold this, but I did not care to attract attention. There would have come questions which I’m not ready to answer.”