Past one turning, two turnings, three turnings, four turnings, he trailed me with him, a limp and slow and reluctant figure.
At the fourth turning, I suddenly broke from his hand and tore down the street like a maddened stag.

He was unprepared, he was heavy, and it was dark.

I ran and ran and ran, and in five minutes' running, found I was gaining.

In half an hour I was out in the fields under the holy and blessed stars, where I tore off my accursed shawl and bonnet and buried them in clean earth." The old gentleman had finished his story and leant back in his chair.
Both the matter and the manner of his narration had, as time went on, impressed me favourably.

He was an old duffer and pedant, but behind these things he was a country-bred man and gentleman, and had showed courage and a sporting instinct in the hour of desperation.