The Broad Highway

Jeremy growled, held up the bottle to the failing light of

evening, measured its contents with his thumb, and extended it

unwillingly towards his comrade's ready hand; but it never got

there, for, at that instant, the chaise lurched violently--there

was a cry, a splintering of glass, a crash, and I was lying, half

stunned, in a ditch, listening to the chorus of oaths and cries

that rose from the cloud of dust where the frightened horses

reared and plunged.

How long I remained thus I cannot say, but, all at once, I found

myself upon my feet, running down the road, for, hazy though my

mind yet was, I could think only of escape, of liberty, and

freedom--at any price--at any cost. So I ran on down the road,

somewhat unsteadily as yet, because my fall had been a heavy one,

and my brain still reeled. I heard a shout behind me--the sharp

crack of a pistol, and a bullet sang over my head; and then I

knew they were after me, for I could hear the patter of their

feet upon the hard road.

Now, as I ran, my brain cleared, but this only served me to

appreciate the difficulty of eluding men so seasoned and hardy as

my pursuers; moreover, the handcuffs galled my wrists, and the

short connecting chain hampered my movements considerably, and I

saw that, upon this straight level, I must soon be run down, or

shot from behind.

Glancing back, I beheld them some hundred yards, or so, away,

elbows in, heads up, running with that long, free stride that

speaks of endurance. I increased the pace, the ground flew

beneath me, but, when I glanced again, though the man Bob had

dropped back, the saturnine Jeremy ran on, no nearer, but no

farther than before.

Now, as I went, I presently espied that for which I had looked

--a gate set in the midst of the hedge, but it was closed, and

never did a gate, before or since, appear quite so high and

insurmountable; but, with the desperation of despair, I turned,

ran at it, and sprang, swinging my arms above my head as I did

so. My foot grazed the top bar--down I came, slipped, stumbled,

regained my balance, and ran on over the springy turf. I heard a

crash behind me, an oath, a second pistol barked, and immediately

it seemed that a hot iron seared my forearm, and glancing down, I

saw the skin cut and bleeding, but, finding it no worse, breathed

a sigh of thankfulness, and ran on.

By that leap I had probably gained some twenty yards; I would

nurse my strength, therefore. If I could once gain the woods!

How far off were they?--half-a-mile, a mile?--well, I could run

that easily, thanks to my hardy life. Stay! what was that sound

behind me--the fall of flying feet, or the throbbing of my own

heart? I turned my head; the man Jeremy was within twelve yards

of me--lean and spare, his head thrust forward, he ran with the

long, easy stride of a greyhound.