Then Roger
rescued her shoe, and I set her aloft on my shoulder, to her great
contentment, and she was laughing merrily when we reached the
turnpike, and gave her into the hands of her distracted mother.
Remembering this, I raced on at my best speed, resolved, if only I
arrived in time, to turn this little incident to account.
It did but add to my anxiety that the highroad was nowhere visible
to me as I ran, so that I could not measure my progress with that
of the coach, but was forced to go on at the same break-neck pace,
not daring to moderate it in any degree. And I could almost have
cried with vexation when that plaguey stitch in the side seized me,
and I had to stand a while to recover my breath. Then I raced on
again, desperately anxious to make up for the lost time. My work
upon the Hall estate, and my exercise with Roger, had kept my body
in good condition: yet to run for four miles or more at a stretch
with the mind in a ferment would tax any man, and by the time I
came in sight of the turnpike I was fairly overdone, dripping with
sweat--'twas a sunny day in July--and trembling in every limb.
And then I heard, or fancied I heard, the rattle of the coach on my
left, and I picked up my heels and scampered along the last
half-mile at a pace which, in other circumstances, I should have
deemed impossible, the loose stones flying from beneath my feet.
I emerged upon the highroad, threw a glance over my left shoulder,
and gave a great gasp of relief when I spied the coach plunging
down the road, but nearly a mile distant.
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