Jem had thought over his affairs, which was an effort for him, but he always thought in one direction.

His thoughts never went backwards and forwards as mine did.

If he had made up his mind, there was no more prospect of his changing it than if he had been my father.

And if the happy terms between them were broken, and Jem's career checked when he was doing so well!--the scales that weighed my own future were becoming very uneven now.
I clasped my hands and thought.

If I ran away, the money would be there for Jem's debts, and his errors would look pale in the light of my audacity, and he would be dearer than ever at home, whilst for me were freedom, independence (for I had not a doubt of earning bread-and-cheese, if only as a working man): perhaps a better understanding with my father when I had been able to prove my courage and industry, or even when he got the temperate and dutiful letter I meant to post to him when I was fairly off; and beyond all, the desire of my eyes, the sight of the world.
Should I stay now?
And for what?
To see old Jem at logger-heads with my father, and perhaps demoralized by an inferior school?
To turn my own back and shut my eyes for ever on all that the wide seas embrace; my highest goal to be to grow as rich as Uncle Henry or richer, and perhaps as mean or meaner?
Should I choose for life a life I hated, and set seals to my choice by drinking silver-top with the Jew-clerk ?--No, Moses, no! * * * * * I got up soon after dawn and was in the garden at sunrise the morning that I ran away.