One ball struck him in the shoulder.

The rest whizzed harmlessly by, and at the top of his speed he ran forward.
He was now safe from pursuit, for in the darkness of the night it would have been absolutely impossible to follow him.

In a few minutes he ceased running, for when all became quiet behind him, he could no longer tell in what direction he was advancing.

So long as he could hear the shouts of the sentries he continued his way, and then, all guidance being lost, he lay down under a hedge and waited for morning.

It was still thick and foggy; but wandering aimlessly about for some time, he succeeded at last in striking upon a road, and judging from the side upon which he had entered it in which direction Reading must lie, he took the western way and went forward.