However, that's neither here nor there.

What I want to ask you is whether you've ever heard anything in this quarter of a man called Heatherstone, the same who used to be colonel of the 41st Bengalis?
They told me at Wigtown that he lived somewhere down this way." "He lives in that large house over yonder," said I, pointing to Cloomber Tower.

"You'll find the avenue gate a little way down the road, but the general isn't over fond of visitors." The last part of my speech was lost upon Corporal Rufus Smith; for the instant that I pointed out the gate he set off hopping down the road.
His mode of progression was the most singular I have ever seen, for He would only put his right foot to the ground once in every half-dozen strides, while he worked so hard and attained such a momentum with the other limb that he got over the ground at an astonishing speed.
I was so surprised that I stood in the roadway gazing after this hulking figure until the thought suddenly struck me that some serious result might come from a meeting between a man of such blunt speech and the choleric, hot-headed general.

I therefore followed him as he hopped along like some great, clumsy bird, and overtook him at the avenue gate, where he stood grasping the ironwork and peering through at the dark carriage-drive beyond.
"He's a sly old jackal," he said, looking round at me and nodding his head in the direction of the Hall.

"He's a deep old dog.