He was getting into a fever of impatience and anxiety, when, about five o'clock, he saw a figure coming down the hillside from the right.
It was too far away to recognize with certainty, but, by the rapid pace at which he descended the hill, he had little doubt that it was Harry, and he at once started, at the top of his speed, to meet him.
The doubt was soon changed into a certainty.

When, a few hundred yards up the hill, he met his friend, both were almost breathless.
Harry was the first to gasp out: "Has my father arrived ?" "Not yet." Harry threw himself down on the short grass, with an exclamation of thankfulness.
"I have run nearly every foot of the way," he said, as soon as he got his breath a little.

"I had awful difficulty in getting out.
One of the constables kept in the same room with me, and followed me wherever I went.

They evidently thought I might hear from my father, or try to send him a message.

At last, I got desperate, and ran upstairs to that room next mine, and closed and locked the door after me.