CHAPTER XX.
HOW CERTAIN CHARACTERS FOUND THEMSELVES, AT DEAD OF NIGHT, UPON THE FIVE LANES ROAD.
Panting, slipping, with aching sides, but terror at his heels, Sam Buzza tore up the hill.

Lights danced before him, imaginary voices shouted after; but he never glanced behind.

The portmanteau was monstrously heavy, and more than once he almost dropped it; but it was tightly packed, apparently, for nothing shook inside it.
Only the handles creaked in his grasp.
He gained the top, shifted the load to his left hand, and raced down the other side of the hill.

How he reached the bottom he cannot clearly call to mind; but he dug his heels well into the turf, and arrived without a fall.

At the foot of the slope a wire fence had to be crossed; next the railway line, then, across the embankment, another fence, which kept a shred of his clothing.