"Answer me truly--as you would to your own heart, Adam. If by some miracle you could be transported safely to a far-off land, would you not feel more secure there than here?"
"Yes. And for Rose's sake I would go if I could; she is just as apprehensive here as you. But I can't. When Smith says I must not attempt to get away, he is right. I feel that he is. The man's interest lies in my safety, and I believe he thinks my safety lies in my remaining here."
"Just so," said Karl. "Smith is the stumbling-block."
"Well, he holds the reins, you see. It is no use trying to fight against his opinion: besides, I think he is right. However that may be, I can't afford to come to a rupture with him. Good heavens, Karl! fancy his sending me back in irons to Portland! That will never be, however," added Sir Adam more calmly, "for I would not be taken alive. I or my capturers should fall."
He put his hand inside his white waistcoat, and showed the end of a pistol. One he kept close to him night and day, always loaded, always ready. Karl's arguments failed him, one by one. As he was helpless to combat the decisions of his wife, so was he helpless here.
And so the interview ended in nothing, just as others had ended.
A black cloud, threatening thunder, had come over the summer's night when Karl went out. It did not seem to him half so dark as the trouble at his own heart. He would have given his life freely, to purchase security for his brother.