Teddy caught the outlines of a tall form tearing hurriedly through the wood, as if in terror of being caught, and he bent all his energies toward overtaking him.

The gloom of the night, that had now fairly descended, and the peculiar topography of the ground, made it an exceedingly difficult matter for both to keep their feet.

The fugitive, catching in some obstruction, was thrown flat upon his face, but quickly recovered himself.

Teddy, with a shout of exultation, sprung forward, confident that he had secured their persecutor at last, but the Irishman was caught by the same obstacle and "floored" even more completely than his enemy.
"Bad luck to it!" he exclaimed, frantically scrambling to his feet, "but it has knocked me deaf and dumb.

I'll have ye, owld haythen, yit, or me name isn't Teddy McFadden, from Limerick downs." Teddy's fall had given the fugitive quite an advantage, and as he was fully as fleet of foot as the Irishman, the latter was unable to regain his lost ground.