I saw its huge buildings, its church towers, its grain elevators.
Only four or five miles ahead, Niagara river opened to the northward.
Under these new conditions which way should I turn? When we passed in
front of the destroyers, or perhaps between them, should I not throw
myself into the waters I was a good swimmer, and such a chance might
never occur again. The captain could not stop to recapture me. By
diving could I not easily escape, even from a bullet? I should surely
be seen by one or other of the pursuers. Perhaps, even, their
commanders had been warned of my presence on board the "Terror."
Would not a boat be sent to rescue me?
Evidently my chance of success would be even greater, if the "Terror"
entered the narrow waters of Niagara River. At Navy Island I would be
able to set foot on territory that I knew well. But to suppose that
our captain would rush into this river where he might be swept over
the great cataract! That seemed impossible! I resolved to await the
destroyers' closest approach and at the last moment I would decide.
Yet my resolution to escape was but half-hearted. I could not resign
myself thus to lose all chance of following up this mystery. My
instincts as a police official revolted. I had but to reach out my
hand in order to seize this man who had been outlawed! Should I let
him escape me! No! I would not save myself! Yet, on the other hand,
what fate awaited me, and where would I be carried by the "Terror,"
if I remained on board?
It was a quarter past six.
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