He cast the memories from him as the vehicle rolled on, for he found not only that they were painful, but that other thoughts of the imperious present must have way; and that though he trusted by a new crime to remove some part of the danger of his situation, yet that it was necessary to contemplate his position in every point of view, in order to guard against all that might happen. But here, perhaps, his feelings were even less enviable than those from which he turned. Personal danger, not abstract and distinct, but accompanied by shame, and scorn, and detection, was the first image that presented itself to his mind. To meet the hatred and contempt of the whole world, to be exposed in a court of justice, and on a public scaffold to be pointed and hooted at by the rude populace--to be called the fratricide, the murderer--to undergo the horrors of imprisonment, suspense, trial, condemnation, and execution--and to plunge, loaded with a brother's blood and many another sin, into the wide, dim, terrible hereafter--such were the only objects of his anticipation, if his present schemes should fail. Nor was it at all strange that he should feel them now much more poignantly than at the time which immediately followed his brother's death, though, perhaps, the years which had elapsed might have rendered his safety less in danger now than then. But at that period he had little time to reflect; and his whole mind had been occupied in acting. He had seen and felt the immediate peril, and had apprehended many a vague horror; but imagination had not had time to act--she had not had time to call up and particularize, as she had since done with terrible minuteness, all the awful and agonizing scenes that await the detected murderer.