He ran along the back of the wall, feeling for a projection, a tree, anything which would enable him to climb it.
The wall was smooth, and though the branches of trees swung and creaked above his head, their stems grew in the garden upon the other side.

He was pouring with sweat, his breath whistled, in his ears he had the sound of innumerable armies marching across the earth, but he stumbled on.

And at last, though his right side brushed against the wall, he none the less struck against it also with his chest.

He was too dazed for the moment to understand what had happened; all the breath he had left was knocked clean out of his body; he dropped in a huddle on the ground.
In a little he recovered his breath; he listened and could no longer hear any sound of voices; he began to consider.

He reached a hand out in front of him and touched the wall; he reached out a hand to the right of him and touched the wall again.