With this feeling in his bosom, Munro was yet unapprized of
its existence. It is not with the man, so long hurried forward by his
impulses as at last to become their creature, to analyze either their
character or his own. Vice, though itself a monster, is yet the slave of
a thousand influences, not absolutely vicious in themselves; and their
desires it not uncommonly performs when blindfolded. It carries the
knife, it strikes the blow, but is not always the chooser of its own
victim.
But, fortunately for Ralph Colleton, whatever and how many or how few
were the impelling motives leading to this determination, Munro had
decided upon the preservation of his life; and, with that energy of
will, which, in a rash office, or one violative of the laws, he had
always heretofore displayed, he permitted no time to escape him
unemployed for the contemplated purpose. His mind immediately addressed
itself to its chosen duty, and, in one disguise or another, and those
perpetually changing, he perambulated the village, making his
arrangements for the desired object.
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